Red String of Fate

Running in Circles

When they reached the track, they found both classes prepping for the agonizing run. Pierre also started stretching out, and Henry found himself eyeing Pierre's muscles again. The older teen wasn't 'totally ripped,' as some guys might say, he just had some nice definition in all the right places. He flushed and looked down at his feet. Now would probably be a good time for him to start doing some stretches as well. He bent down and touched his toes, holding the stretch for a few seconds before bending down farther and placing his palms flat on the ground. He may not have been as toned as Pierre, but he was probably way more flexible than him.

Since he was so focused on not looking at the Frenchman, he didn't notice that Pierre's gaze was flickering over to him. Pierre was watching Henry stretch out of the corner of his eye. Not knowing that Henry had just made this silent observation just moments ago, Pierre admitted to himself that Henry was definitely more flexible than he was. Henry straightened back up and lowered himself into some fairly low splits. Pierre winced a little, watching him sink lower and lower. He could practically feel the uncomfortable pull in his own muscles. But he had to admit, it was pretty amazing to see just how flexible Henry was...

A sharp whistle from one of the coaches caught everyone's attention, and Hanson called all the boys to the starting line. "Now remember," Hanson said, "four laps around this track is a mile. Try to pace yourselves, don't go full out on the first corner. Save that for the final leg." Jones pulled out his stopwatch, his thumb on the start button. Pierre bumped Henry's shoulder, and the two boys gave each other quick smiles. "On my whistle, start running," Hanson ordered. "Get ready. 3...2...1..." He gave a long blast on his whistle, and the boys all took off as Jones pressed 'Start' on his stopwatch.

Henry had nearly broken into a full-out sprint, but was surprised to see Pierre had simply started jogging leisurely along the track. He didn't appear to be in any hurry, despite the fact that people were passing him. Henry dropped back so they could run together. Pierre gave him a dazzling smile. "How nice of you to join me," he teased, his accent slightly thicker. Henry pulled a face and kept jogging, trying to match Pierre's easy pace. They ran in silence, Pierre making the torturous run look almost effortless. Henry did his best to keep up, trying to match Pierre's long-legged strides.

As they started their second lap, Pierre started to pick up the pace. Henry followed his lead, breathing hard. He could hear Pierre's breath coming a little rougher as well, the only signal that this wasn't as easy as he was making it look. They were getting passed on both sides, but Pierre just kept on going. "Not fair..." Henry gasped out quickly. "You...make this...look easy." The Frenchman let out a short burst of laughter, but that was all he could afford. He pushed himself more, and Henry struggled to keep pace with him. Pierre glanced back at him and slowed down a bit so they could stay together.

Henry was grateful for his presence, but as they started their third lap he waved the Frenchman onward. Pierre reluctantly went on ahead, and Henry slowed down so he could catch his breath. Pierre's pace quickened, and Henry couldn't help but admire how graceful he was as he ran. What I wouldn't give to be able to run like that, he thought to himself. Then maybe I'd enjoy this class a little more.

"On your right, McCrae!"

Henry glanced over in the direction of the chipper voice, and saw Donovan O'Dell running up next to him. The senior had short brown hair and sparkling grey eyes, and he was sporting a very broad Cheshire Cat grin. "Should I be worried about that look?" Henry teased the senior, his own toothy smile matching that of the older boy. "You look like the cat that ate the canary."