The Track Star and The Cheerleader

Chapter 1: Moving In

Beca sighed as she placed the last box into the back of the Uhaul. She huffed a loose strand of hair out of her face and stared at the stacks of brown boxes and wrapped furniture. She never imagined she would be moving away just as her Junior year was starting. The horrible reality of it all was still surreal.

Beca's father was a Chemistry teacher who was offered a better teaching position at Barden High School. It was a great paying job at a great school. The problem? It wasn't Beca's high school. In fact, it was a high school many miles away from the home she practically grew up in. She hadn't lived in the area her entire life, but when she and her father moved into the house when she was nine years old, this neighborhood became all that she knew. It was this place that got her started in her current passion.
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Over the years, Beca had made quite a name for herself as the "High School Track Star." She trained hard and won most of the races she competed in. It was great being the big fish in the her small pond.

Beca picked up the knack for it when she was ten years old and got into heated argument with her father. She couldn't stand being in the house with him and for some reason had the sudden urge to just run.

So she did.

Her heart pounded in her chest and her heated cheeks cooled as the wind gently blew on her face. She ignored the tears rolling down her cheeks and let her legs take her where ever they wanted. She eventually ended up at a nearby park and spent a few hours curled up on a bench. She felt sadness but also relief. The time alone turned out to be refreshing and helpful. It was just her and her thoughts.

Beca was so tired of feeling hurt by the people that were closest to her. It happened many times before and never seemed to stop. She came to the conclusion that she no longer wanted to feel pain or sadness. Especially from people she had attached herself to. She decided it would be best to just keep people at arms length from then on.

After the park, Beca decided to run back home. She didn't know why, but she felt a sense of freedom when she ran. And from that day on, every time she felt overwhelmed about something, she ran.
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Beca felt a strong hand wrap around her shoulder,

"Alright kiddo. Is that everything?"

She didn't make eye contact with her father and kept staring at the boxes, "Yeah," she replied flatly, "That's it."

Her father took note of her grim response and shook her shoulder in comfort,

"Hey, this is gonna be great. Before you know it, you'll be just as popular there as you are here." His attempt to cheer her up failed miserably. It wasn't about being popular. This place meant a lot to Beca and formed her into the person she was today.

Her father sealed the truck and got into the driver's seat. Beca followed soon after and slumped into the passenger seat next to him. He started the truck and smiled, putting his hand on her knee before driving off,

"Everything will work out just fine. I promise."

Beca didn't move but glared at him through the corner of her eye,

"Don't make promises you can't keep." She crossed her arms and looked back out the window. Her father's smile reluctantly fell. He decided to give up for now, but didn't entirely lose hope for his daughter. He drove the truck out of the driveway and Beca wistfully watched as her home grew smaller and smaller behind her; ultimately disappearing completely. Beca knew the drive would take a while, so she put her headphones on and doze off to the music.
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"Beca." Her father gently shook her shoulder, "Wake up, honey. We're here."