Once You're Gone

BFF's with Trace or what?

Alexandra Fisher

          The next day was uneventful. I had seen my friends, spent a little time with Logan, and secretly eaten gummy bears every now and then behind my teachers’ backs. The only thing that had set my mind onto ninja mode was the frequent glances Trace sent my way during the classes I shared with him. I mentally shuddered.

          I was currently running ten laps for gym class, well, attempting to. I had never been very athletic myself, and my eating habits didn’t help my health either. The only ‘sport’, if it could be called that way, I practiced was dancing, but since I wasn’t the choreographer anymore—

          “Aaaaaaaye, chica.” Ronnie chirped, jogging up beside me. Knowing her, I could tell she was already on her seventh lap. As for me, I was barely reaching my third lap, and I was already panting like a smoking hyena.

          Hmm, I wonder if hyenas can smoke.

          “Hi.” I panted, still jogging. It wasn’t like I could have said anything more elaborated; my body would have collapsed due to lack of air.

          We kept on running in silence. Ronnie had probably remembered how much of an athlete I was not.

          “Anywhorez,” she started after a while, showing no signs of tiredness whatsoever, “gotta rocket. Laterz, wifey!” And then she was gone.

          I watched her tied-up, dark brown hair bob on her back with every stride she took. One of the things I liked the most about Ronnie was the fact that she and I were so alike yet so different. For example, we both were straight-A students and had earned a scholarship from the institution. But, on the other hand, she had an unbelievable physical condition, whereas I could lifelessly drop to the ground after 45 seconds of performing jumping jacks.

          Now, Ronnie wasn’t athletic because she wanted to. She was pretty much forced by her parents and the doctors. She was diagnosed with asthma at a very young age, and the main responsible was her mother, a diehard smoker. From what Ronnie had told me, the doctors had said that she needed to strengthen her respiratory system by performing certain breathing exercises and practicing certain sports. So, yeah, the girl had an unreal body all the guys drooled over.

          Alex, don’t be jelly.

          “You’re working it, girl.” A mouth moved against my ear.

           My heart nearly jumped out of my ribcage, and, still jogging, I turned to see the person who had abruptly interrupted my thoughts. “Shane.” I panted, a hand clutched to my chest.

          “In the flesh, love.” His attractive, British accent was the only thing that filled my ears… well, besides our strides and my endless panting.

          His flirting was making me uncomfortable so I tried jogging past him, failing miserably. I decided on discreetly telling him off instead. “Isn’t that Jenny?” I asked, pointing to the brunette that was running a good twenty meters ahead of us. “Gotta love her hair.” I added and gave him a pointed look, panting at the end. Maybe flattering her girlfriend was going to remind him that he had one.

         “Her hair doesn’t even compare to yours.” He smirked.

         Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Don’t— GAH!

         I looked away from him, already feeling my body temperature rising in my cheeks.

          “Oh, you’re blushing!” He exclaimed in his deep, British voice. “I find that a major turn on.” He whispered in my ear, winking. It was unbelievable how he wasn’t the least bit tired from talking—or flirting, in his case—and running at the same time.