My Imaginary Boyfriend

My Imaginary Boyfriend *Opponent

"This is short," I mutter to myself.

"Because it's shorts," Kamille says patiently.

"It's a short shorts," I complain.

She shrugs. "There's nothing we can do about that."

"I know," I mumble.

Today's Thursday so we have PE as the last period. We take it once a week and this is the first meeting for this school year. I hope we won't do anything. I hope it's just an orientation.

Before, we used to wear jogging pants. I don't know what's gotten to the principal's mind to change it to shorts. I tug mine down a bit because I'm not comfortable wearing shorts. Anything, as long as it's short. I feel exposed. I feel naked without things covering my legs. Weird, I know.

Some girls make their shorts shorter by pulling them high above their waist. You can almost see their underwear. What kind of girls will do that? I guess they want to get the attention of boys.

Yeah, boys. This school is insane. They now mixed the girls with the boys in PE class. How can they be so ignorant?

"Annalise? Earth to Annalise?"

"Ow," I say, snapping out of my reverie.

"You did not hear anything I said in the past couple of minutes, did you?" Kamille says, studying my face.

My mouth forms into a sheepish smile. "Sorry," I mumble, ducking my head in embarrassment.

"Is something wrong?" she asks in a concern voice.

"Nothing," I say.

She sighs. "I know I should be used to having your thoughts in the cloud," she says wearily, "I guess not."

"I can't help it," I admit, frowning slightly.

"I know," she says, patting my hand, "and I understand. I'm just wondering what's inside that head of yours."

"A lot of things," I say with a shrug.

Kamille is about to ask what kind of things when our coach in PE blows his whistle.

I stand up from the bleachers reluctantly. Kamille nudges me on the elbow when I walk slowly towards where the class is.

"If you continue to be like this," she says in a teasing voice, "I'll think that you're just cheerful in the presence of Caleb."

At that, I walk quickly, dragging my feet beneath me. Kamille chuckles behind me, which I pretend not to, hear.

The class forms a big circle. The coach, which is Mr. Asher, sits in the center.

"How can I talk to you if you're standing like that?" he asks in a booming voice. "Sit down!"

We all sit quickly, afraid to do something that might get coach angry. From what I hear about him, he can be strict if he wants. I wonder why he's still teaching PE, he's already the coach of the basketball team.

"It's so hot," Kamille whispers.

"Tell me about it," I mutter. It's crowded too!

I'm sitting Indian style, so my left leg touches with some guy. Trying not to be obvious, I pull my legs towards me and wrap my arms around them.

The guy's mouth turns downward. He's cute, but—

A tap in my shoulder breaks me from my line of thoughts. Turning my head, a startle gasp escapes from my lips when I see Alex behind me, smiling amusedly.