Awkward

/FOR NOW/

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It isn't a race, but Roman pushes past the person in third before the end of the warm up run, making it to the side of pitch, where the two earlier boys are still catching their breath.

"Three.. kilometres," pants Girogio. "How am I supposed to have energy to play after this?"

"Mr. Anderson? That guy is crazy," Roman pants.

The other two look at Roman like he's a paranormal apparition as a fourth boy arrives.
"Turner? Did you take a shortcut?" one asks.

Roman shrugs.

"Well, you finished.. whew, you finished early... man, well done," says Girogio, giving Roman a thumbs up.

Mr Anderson walks up to the early boys. "Walk around, walk around! Don't stop moving! And go stretch in the middle of the pitch!" A special glance follows Roman as he jogs with everyone else in kit to the centre.

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The girls watch the boys and the boys watch the girls. It's just the way it works.

If the girls have a big basketball, volleyball, hockey, netball, football—whatever match, all us guys go watch and it's the same on their end.
The only thing is, these are just the after-school trials for the March 11s tournament so the only girls watching are watching their boyfriends.

Some guys' parents have even left their cars and come to watch and wait here.
But forget parents, girls. Mikaela is here- but not for me, obviously.

Mr Anderson throws a ball at the few of us stretching.
"When you're done, form a circle and pass the ball to each other until everyone's back."

We're passing amongst ourselves for a while as everyone finishes the warm up run. I keep making the mistake of peeking at Mikaela and it's both a blessing and a curse that she isn't peeking at me back. Remember when I was talking about blowing an arm off? It was Mikaela. Mikaela is that arm that got blown off. It's like.. traumatic that I can touch the empty socket and feel where it used to be and still—

"TURNER, FOCUS!"

I fumble my own feet and the pass rolls past me so I have to go fetch the ball.

When the circle of boys is complete, Mr Chambers appears, does a warm up lap, asks for the ball and enters the middle of the circle.

"I'm passing to anyone at random so if you get the ball, pass it back," he says.
And we do that little exercise until he says, "Roman, come into the middle of the circle."

Once I jog in, he walks out, passes it to Fergus and says, "Whoever lets Roman get the ball goes for another 'warm up'." And everybody groans. Which is how I know that I'll be running around aimlessly for a long time.

I'm chasing the fleeting ball around for what feels like seven minutes, getting dribbled and tricked until I'm quick enough to snap the ball away from one guy, keeping it long enough for Mr. Chambers to say, "DeMarcus. Go for a 'warm up'."

I don't hate DeMarcus.

But something about me feels triumphant when I look up and see his stupefied expression. Although, it's short lived. He smiles like he's happy for me and that puts me off when he jogs away.

Don't go easy on me. I wouldn't do the same.

"Roman, you're out of the middle. Ben, you're it."

As I walk to join the boys making the circle, naturally, I glance at Mikaela and this time, she's looking at me.

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