Poppy Jameson has lived her life as an average. An average student. An average daughter. She isn't the favourite child, or the best student, and she has never been in a relationship. She doesn't want to fit in, but she doesn't want to stand out. She...
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lewis
Coach had us do the bleep test to wake us up. Normally I didn't mind PE, but PE first thing on a dreary November morning was the last thing I needed. I hadn't slept well the night before, my thoughts racing around my head all night. And when I had eventually fallen asleep, my dreams had been vividly embarrassing.
I dug my feet into the pavement and ran. Most of the guys had dropped out a couple bleeps ago. The guys that were left were those on the football team, who were often subjected to this form of torture during practice.
I reached the marker with seconds to spare, and prepared myself to sprint again.
I inhaled sharply and forced myself forward. My chest was burning and my calves were on fire, but I pushed myself further.
Coaches whistle blew in intervals until I was the only person left running. I didn't look up long enough to see my classmates watching me. The only thing on my mind was beating my record, which I had already done.
I was inches away from the marker when the whistle blew.
"Fletcher!" Coach sang. "Nice job!"
I collapsed onto the pavement and prayed for death. Paul tossed me my water bottle and sat beside me, while everybody got their breath back.
"That was insane," he chimed.
I pushed my sweaty hair from my face and drank thirstily from the bottle. "Thanks," I gasped.
Coach was collecting the markers from the playground as we all spread ourselves out on the pavement. We had at least five minutes to kill before he clapped his hands and led us out onto the damp field to play five-a-side.
Over the saturated field, I spotted a flash of blonde.
"That's her," I said, nudging Paul. I had told him all about the tutoring session, and as it turned out, Paul had never seen Poppy before either.
He had scrolled through the same Facebook photos that I had, and come back with the same answer. "Nope, no idea who she is."
Paul sat up straight and strained his eyes to see. She was in the same ripped black jeans she had worn yesterday, but today they were paired with a long-sleeved black t-shirt that she had tucked in and tightened with a belt.
Next to her was a girl I recognised but couldn't name. Her friend was dressed in the same black jeans, but she was wearing a bright white hoodie.
The two of them were talking enthusiastically, their hands moving about in front of them as they conversed. They were lost in their own worlds, unaware that they were on school grounds as they screeched with laughter and skipped down the driveway towards the main building.
"Can't say I recognise her, even a little," Paul commented. "And with that hair, you would've thought she'd stand out like a spotlight. Her friend though, I think I had English with her last year. Faye something."
