Blind Ambition | ✓

09 | Run, Dallas, Run

"What's your over/under for laps? 50?" He grinned.

"I'll take the over." I shrugged. "What's your over/under? The minimum?" I jabbed him back.

"Probably."

Everything about Chris Thompson was effortless, almost to a fault. For someone who was a future Division I wide receiver at a Power 5 school, Chris was never a gym class hero. That mantle had been mine since the seventh grade.

"Alright," Mr. Baxter sighed out as he returned to our group on the sideline. "Line up and get ready."

Just as I glanced over at Kaia from the corner of my eye, she did the same. Glancing turned into eyes narrowed, searing, white hot glaring, until the beep signaling the start propelled us forward.

I jogged at first, my strides long enough to get me 20 yards well before the seven second interval. I kicked around the little orange cone with my sneaker as I waited for the next beep.

As time went on, and the time between the beeps dwindled, so did the students running it.

In true Chris fashion, he did the minimum without breaking a sweat and plopped down on the sideline, arms back and head up to the sky.

I easily hit 50 laps, giving Chris a sly grin as he shook his head at me.

The beeping was at about 6 seconds intervals, and I was just about ready to stop when I saw a flash of Kaia's crisp white sneakers against the dark green of the turf. It beeped again. She kept going. So did I.

I was a runner by nature. I was good at it. After all, that's the embodiment of dual threat quarterback - the ability to throw, scramble, and run run run. But something about seeing Kaia and the subtle smugness on her as she dashed beside fueled me with an aggression I didn't normally apply to gym class. So I threw it into overdrive.

"Not winded yet?" She asked casually.

"No," I shook my head. "You?"

Beep.

Turf pellets kicked up behind us as we quickened our pace to the cones.

"Really?" She asked. "Because I can smell the carbon dioxide on your breath from here."

Beep.

"Yeah take a deep breath, cause it's the closest you'll ever get," I grinned back at her.

Beep.

By that point, some sort of crowd had formed. I darted past blurry faces under the glare of the afternoon sun.

"Alright guys, I think you've proven your point." I could hear Mr. Baxter, but the blood pumping through my ears made him sound far, far away.

Beep.

Five second intervals. Sweat dripped in my eyes, and the afternoon sun burned the back of my neck. I needed oxygen and a cold shower, but I needed to beat Kaia more.

Beep.

Four seconds. Sprinting. Sweating. Searing. Stop me.

"Give up," I groaned at her.

Beep.

"You give up first," she shot back.

Beep.

"In your fucking dreams, Greene."

Beep.

"I only see you in my nightmares, Gunther."