Photosynthesis

chapter 1 (sam)

It was almost summer, and yet, Sam's fingers were cold as ice.

His feet fell upon the track with an exhaustion that had been built up for the past three laps. His breath came out in small pants, white clouds of condensation forming in midair and being left behind as he pushed on.

My stomach hurts again.

"11:04, Olsen. 11:12, Patel. 11:15, Jung..." The teacher's voice trailed off as he gave a cursory glance at the tally marks on Sam's hands. "Only three laps, Jung?" His voice dripped with barely concealed disdain. "You need to do better than that."

The two girls in front of him looked back. The blond one snickered ever so slightly, then her smirk dropped when she realized Mr. Davis was looking right at her.

She parted her mouth, as if to offer some excuse, or an apology, but the teacher's gaze skirted right over her to the kids finished with their mile on the sidelines. "I want to see less talking, more stretching," he called. Mutters of "Yes, Mr. Davis" followed Sam as he continued jogging down the track.

The other girl looked at him, her dark-eyed gaze unfathomable. She didn't laugh, at least, so that was something.

Was there really only a quarter mile left? It seemed so much longer than that - the red road of rubber and latex particles stretching on and on, the faint sound of birds chirping and students chatting, the smirk of the blond girl that grew impossibly wide and taunting even as it fell behind him.

The school bell rang in the distance. Sam winced, picking up the pace and hoping that he wouldn't be late to class. Walking in all sweaty, face bright red, just as Mrs. Cleve is taking attendance... He cringed just thinking about it.

The familiar scar burned like a firebrand on Sam's torso, growing hotter and hotter with every step he took. He felt like he was burning up from the inside, flames rising up to lick at his cheeks, the gaping pit of his stomach splitting open as he noticed the others watching him with disdainful expressions, cracked lips parting to take in one final breath-

"And that's time," Mr. Davis said, marking off something on his clipboard. "14 minutes and 42 seconds, Jung. Class dismissed." There was a rumble of displeasure from the waiting crowd on the bleachers as they took off for the locker rooms, multiple kids throwing glares at him as they passed by.

Sam collapsed on the grass of the football field, panting heavily. Even though the day was overcast and grey, the sun shone weakly through the clouds. He shut his eyes.

In the distance, there was the sound of students already changed and heading to their next class. And above that, the pounding of blood rushing through his burning hot veins.

Sam knew he should get up, but he was just. So. Tired. If I can stay here for the rest of the day, then I would.

He dug his fingers into the grass just a bit more. Compared to the abandoned nature reserve near his house, it was short and trimmed back neatly, even entirely throughout, but he preferred it otherwise - wild and untamed, long enough that you could crouch down and feel wrapped in its embrace.

"Jung. Get up." A voice seemed to come from far off. Someone tapped him brusquely on the shoulder. "Jung."

Sam opened his eyes to see the squinted ones of Mr. Davis, looking at him like he was some sort of nasty bug on a kitchen counter, or a particularly sticky wad of gum stuck to his new sneakers. "If you don't want detention after school, I suggest you hurry up and change quickly before you're late for class."

"Okay," he muttered, struggling to his feet.

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

There was an acrid taste at the back of his throat. "I said yes, Mr. Davis," Sam repeated in a louder tone. "Have a good day."