Living with the Millers

Chapter 11 - Girls Will be Girls

*unedited*

Gym class started out uneventfully.  We were instructed to stretch, then run a mile around the track.  I could tell our teacher, Coach Williams, was not that enthusiastic about her job.  She was a middle age, slightly overweight, shorter woman with graying hair and wrinkles around her permeant frown.  She's the type of person I would avoid out in public because she just looked mean. 

In Alaska, my gym teacher had never made us run laps.  I would always beg her to let us run the whole period, but she would dismiss my requests because 'the majority of the student body did not have the same passion for running as I did.'  Almost all of the running I did was in my free time, so when we were told to just run, I could feel the excitement coursing through my veins.

"Come on Shiloh," Ry whined, pulling at my arm. "Can't we just say we have our periods and sit on the benches?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to run," I laughed at her, tying my hair into a loose pony tail. "Come on, running is fun."

"Were you born this way, or did you crawl up from hell?" She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Fine, but if I die, I'm coming back to haunt your ass."

The mile seemed to fly by; warm, Tennessee wind brushing against my face, and the fresh, county air flowing easily through my lungs.  When I was done, I was barely breathing heavy, and was about to start again before Coach called me over.  "New girl," She called, beckoning with one hand. "Go inside and start stretching."

"Really?" I muttered to myself, but never the less hurried inside and crossed one arm over the other to loosen up.

"You're pretty fast," Ben remarked, coming to a stop next to me. "I would've passed you, but I kinda liked the view from behind."

Up until that point, I had forgotten Benjamin was even in my gym class.  As soon as the words left his mouth I could feel heat rushing across my face as I turned a dark crimson.  Instead of responding, I looked down at my feet and continued to stretch.  Eventually, he stopped staring and walked away, allowing my racing heart a reprieve. 

"Can I work on weights today, Coach?" I heard him ask.  I was still looking at the ground.  There was a small weight station in one corner of the beat up gym, only consisting of one small weight rack and a bench press that didn't look anywhere near safe. 

"Take Jones with you as a spotter," Coach huffed, crossing her arms.  She seemed to not like Ben either, and I was beginning to wonder if this was a common thing throughout the community.  His smart mouth and sarcastic attitude probably got him in trouble more often than not.

When I was done stretching my arms, I sat down on the ground and started to work on my legs.  From there, I could see students still running through the open gym door.  Slowly, people were finishing and coming to join me on the floor.  I noticed one girl head to the weights instead of coming to stretch, but I decided to ignore it.  Probably one of Ben's groupies.

"That was torture," Rylin gasped, practically passing out as she laid down on the floor.  She looked like the had run a marathon, not a mile.  She was covered in sweat and her hair was a tangled, dripping mess. "You think that's fun?  That settles it, you crawled up from hell."

"Thanks," I chuckled, shaking my head.  Pulling one arm across my chest, I let my muscles slowly relax.  My eyes wandered over to the weights area, even though I willed myself not to look.  The boy, who I assumed was 'Jones,' was taking his turn on the bench press, lifting - from my judgment - too many weights for his scrawny body.  The girl was fawning over Ben, just as I had suspected, as he leaned against the wall.  She put one arm on his chest as she batted her eyelashes, pretending to laugh at something he said.  I could tell it was fake from the way she threw her head back; way too dramatic to be real.  Besides, Ben wasn't that funny.