Seeing Clearly

Chapter Seven

“Worthington, my grandmother could lap you. Pick it up!”

Aidan exchanged a look of exasperation with Chuck Worthington as he jogged past him. Coach Hill was a lap ahead of the team; he insisted on running with them every day. If a fifty two year old can lap you girls, you really needed to work out more, he’d taunt.

Beads of sweat ran down Aidan’s neck as he started his second to last lap. Paul was a few feet in front of him, rounding the corner. Aidan picked up the pace and sprinted past him. A few seconds later, the sound of fast approaching footsteps filled the air, Paul gaining, closing the space between them.

“Last one to the finish line has to sit next to Clara in Careers tomorrow,” Aiden called.

Paul whooped and then the two boys took off at full speed.  Paul inched closer and closer to Aidan as the boys ran the last lap. Aidan ignored the familiar burning in his lungs, as competiveness took over and adrenaline kicked in. The pair took turns pulling ahead, overlapping cheering and whistling teammates. Aidan overheard two strikers place bets on the winner of the race.

Listening to the rhythm of his pounding feet against the tarmac, and his breath coming out in short sporadic bursts, Aidan grinned as the white FINISH came into view. His legs ached, but still Aidan felt the overshadowing satisfaction of knowing he was seconds away from enjoying a decent next period class. Suddenly Paul flew past him. It was a narrow victory for sure, but a victory nonetheless. Paul threw his hands up in the air, smiling widely- too winded to gloat. He continued to jog down the track, slowing to a stop.

Aidan laughed good-naturedly and patted Paul on the back as he ran by. He shook his head and wiped a hand across his forehead. “Damn.” Paul fell to his knees laughing hysterically. Aidan playfully kicked his leg, shifting over so the players still running could have the first lane. An angry, long whistle interrupted their fun.

 “Klemins! Leeman! If you two have so much free time on your hands, how about you run another lap?”

“Sorry coach,” the two boys replied. Aidan helped Paul to his feet, shielding his eyes from the smouldering sun. “A breeze would be nice,” he commented dryly looking up at the cloudless sky. Paul snorted, following Aidan’s lead down the track.

Two laps, a scrimmage and one hour later, the entire team gathered in the change room. Aidan shed his practice gear, and pulling on jeans, lost himself in the sounds surrounding him. Lockers slammed and laughter echoed around the room as everybody discussed the tough practice and Coach Hill’s ever balding head. Why he insists on keeping that one little patch at the front is beyond me. I mean, give it up dude you’re-

“Hey Klemins. Word on the street is your neighbour’s the new chick.”

Aidan pulled his black T-shirt over his head, glancing up see Jake Smith studying him. He shrugged. “You mean Alaya? Yeah,” he answered tentatively, wondering what Smith had to say.

Jake whistled. “Lucky bastard. She’s hot.”

A few of the others guys called out their thoughts of her before Greg Cartman spoke up.  “Sucks that she’s blind, but it is easier to have a little fun since she can’t see what... or who she’s doing”

Greg’s friends hooted loudly at the comment and Aidan raised an eyebrow at the boy. Jake and Paul both snorted; the former muttering something that sounded suspiciously like chauvinistic jackass as he threw his soccer cleats in a gym bag.

Aidan found himself, not for the first time, wanting to punch Greg in the jaw. He watched the dark haired boy zip his bag shut and saunter to the door; his cronies followed him out.

“Let’s go ladies,” coach called sarcastically from somewhere behind the door. “Last one locks up.” The boys obediently picked up the pace, shoving strewn equipment into their backpacks. Reece Parker nodded his head in Aidan’s direction as he passed. Aidan raised his hand in return. “How was Chicago?”he asked.

Reece lived down the street from Aidan and was notoriously shyer than Paul, even around the people he knew. Reece tilted his head to the side, seemingly deep in though. “Shopping,” he said finally. “Lots and lots of shopping.”

Aidan laughed. Like him, Reece lived with his mom and sister; as a consequence, the boys were forced to endure many painful trips to the mall.

 “Been there, done that.”

Reece gave Aidan a knowing smile, waved quickly to Paul and left without another word. Paul’s watched the boy leave, a frown on his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say more than ten words in one sitting; and I’ve known his for years!”

Grinning, Aidan shook his head as he slammed his locker shut. “Reece has always been like that; a man of few words.”

Paul shrugged. “You need a ride home?” he asked.

 “Nah, I can walk the five minutes.”

 “Well consider yourself lucky Klemins. I have to pick up Sarah from ballet.”

“I have to go home to a sister who rambles on and on about Truman’s cute ass,” Aidan shot back.

“Touché.”

“It’s a hard knock life, for us” Aidan chanted under his breath.

“Amen to that amigo,” Paul said before pulling a set of keys from his coat pocket and shouldering open the door. “See you next practice for day two of hell,” he called over his shoulder, heading to the parking lot. Paul’s beat up old Chevy was his pride and joy. He had saved up for it himself, and spent practically every waking minute messing around with the engine.

Aidan grabbed the keys from their spot on the bench, flicked off the lights, and walked out into the heat of the afternoon. It was a nice day really; if you weren’t running that is. The door shut behind him. Aidan started towards Finley, considering various ways in which to torment Truman when a honk made him nearly jump out of his skin. A glossy silver Mercedes pulled up beside him, the driver obscured behind dark tinted windows. Too slowly, the owner rolled down the passenger window. Well what do you know.

None other than Clara Riverfell sat posed behind the wheel. Huge bug-eye sunglasses covered her eyes (as well as half of her face) and black roots peeked out from the crown of her blonde head. Even from his spot on the sidewalk Aidan could point out where she’d caked on too much makeup. Clara, seeing him staring, winked.

“Need a ride, hot stuff?”