brothers.

43~ The Track Team

Bonus upload for my big 21 :)

WARNING: Contains scenes of severe bullying and abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Tryout day had arrived. Today was the 100-meter and 200-meter dashes; nothing I couldn't handle. Tomorrow was 400 meters. On Wednesday I was doing the 800-meter run.

Coming out of the girls' locker room, I straightened the hem of my shirt and took a deep breath. I wore a comfy, black T-shirt, black leggings, and my white sneakers. My hair was tied up into a high ponytail, like Barbie.

We all went out to the running track. The air was quite chilly, but the sun was strong enough to keep us warm. Coach North and Coach Hyde were waiting for us with a few other teachers, the latter being in charge of the boys' team.

I looked over at the other team. I saw Rick among them, doing a few basic stretches. To my surprise, he caught my eye and waved to me, grabbing the attention of the other boys trying out. I hesitantly waved back, noticing another boy looking at me. He seemed familiar...

He watched me with a creepy smile, his gray eyes glinting. He pushed back his blond hair and stretched his well-built arms, showing off his physique. He finally turned away when he approached Coach Hyde, greeting him like an old friend.

I knew him... but where had I seen him?

Coach North blew his whistle, its' high-pitched sound jumpstarting my heart. My hands shot up to my ears. "All right, girls, get in line, distance at arm's length!" He clapped his hands.

I took a deep breath, trying to control my already-shaking limbs. We got in line and stretched out our arms to distance ourselves. I looked down the line, recognizing Roberta Crawley. She noticed me and smiled, waving.

"Welcome to track and field tryouts, girls," said the coach. The other coach's voice echoed from the other side. "Most of you have already been on this team in previous years, so you should know what to expect. New ones, I expect you to give your best during this tryout." He blew his whistle again. I plugged my fingers in my ears, swallowing hard. "Let's get to work!"

We all answered different questions about our experience in running and athletics with the coach and assistants. Afterwards, we did a bunch of stretches. Some of them made my legs sting a bit, and I could feel the bandages riding up, but it wasn't anything too bad.

Coach North had us do a few sprints before the actual 100-meter run. So far, I was doing good. A few of the other girls— mostly freshmen— didn't seem like the running type. The coaches separated us in groups of eight, calling us one by one.

"Diana Field?"

My stomach squeezed.

Seeing my reaction, the assistant pointed at the sixth group. "You're with them."

My mouth flapped. That wasn't my name.

Coach North went over to her, whispering and pointing at the chart. She nodded and erased something, then wrote something over. "I'm sorry, Ms. Fi- um, Watson, that was my mistake," she said.

"It's okay," I managed to say.

Hearing whispering around me, I noticed a lot of the other girls looking at me. Even some of the boys had heard, including Rick and that creepy guy.

This just got a whole lot worse.

Once everyone got into their groups, Coach North called us over, blowing his high-pitched whistle again.

Did it have to be that loud?

"Line up and dash. 100 meters. Minimum is 15-16 seconds. On your marks..."