Maya's pov
When my alarm went off, I hit snooze and groaned. Looking through my curtains, I saw that the sun wasn't even up yet. I knew that I had to train a lot if I wanted to get to the Olympics, but there was part of me that wished that I could just live a normal life, like everyone else my age.
After a few moments, I heard my bedroom door being pushed open forcefully, and I knew exactly who it was.
"Maya, what do you think you're doing?" he shouted, and I rolled my eyes slightly, but not enough so that he could see me doing it.
"I thought I was sleeping," I muttered.
"You don't have time for anymore sleep, you have practice before school. You have five seconds to get out of bed," he shouted, but I just pulled the duvet over my head sleepily. I'd had practice last night, and when I didn't beat my own time, I'd been forced to walk home. Because of that, it had been late when I got in, and I had missed dinner, and got very little sleep.
All of a sudden, I felt cold water falling over me. I sat up suddenly, screaming because of how cold it was. Slightly angry now, I pushed my dripping hair out of my face and glared at my dad. I was soaked, and so was my bed.
"What did you have to do that for?" I snapped.
"I warned you. Now you have five minutes to get ready for practice," he said, shrugging like it was no big deal.
Sighing, I got up and got dressed into my practice clothes. I then pulled my hair back into two french braids and washed my face. There was no point in putting any makeup on, it would only be ruined by the time I'd finished.
I grabbed my school bag, and put in some clothes to change in to. I knew that I probably wouldn't have time to come home and get it before school, so I just took it with me.
I walked into the kitchen and saw Mom and Mason sat at the table. Mason was still in his PJ's, and he was eating pancakes with chocolate spread on them. I couldn't help but feel jealous of him, even though I knew that I shouldn't. He can eat what he wants when he wants, whereas I have to be on a strict diet because of my running. Mason does track too, but not as competitively as I do.
I was about to get some oatmeal for breakfast when dad came in.
"Come on, no time for breakfast, let's go," he said, clapping his hands together. I flinched slightly at the sound of it, but put down the bowl and followed him out.
"Bye Mom, bye Mason, love you," I said as I left.
At track practice, I came first again, but just like last night, I was a second or two off beating my own score. I was about to get in the car, when my dad reached across and slammed the door shut in front of me.
"You know the deal, I only drive you if you come first, and beat your time, you didn't beat your time, so you can walk," he said, and I looked at him in disbelief.
"But I'll be late for school!" I argued.
"Well you should've thought have thought of that then," he snapped, before driving off, leaving me standing in the parking lot.
If I had just been walking from home, I would've been fine, but the tracks are further away from the school. I sighed, and picked up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. Checking the time, I saw that I only had 8 minutes before I needed to be at school, so I decided to run.
7 minutes later, I was stood outside the school gates, with one minute to spare. Just in time.
