Eight

Cold

     "It's a beautiful day! Run when you're supposed to run, walk when you're supposed to walk!" my gym teacher belts out in the pouring rain. A couple guys point this out to him in a rather smarty pants-ish manner, but he just blows the whistle in their faces, signaling the beginning of the dreaded 'run-walk'.

     I begin to trudge down the track, my shoes already soaked with rain, and wish with all my heart that I could be in bed right now, curled up in a warm (and very dry) ball. But then, before I know it, I'm imagining myself curled up under the covers with the lights off, and Jamie marching into my room, flipping the light on and pulling the covers off of me with some teasing remark about my lazy habits. I smile to remember how I always pretended to be fed up, even though I secretly enjoyed her reminding me that it was a lovely day. (And not with the sarcasm of a junior high gym teacher trying to make kids run in the rain, either.) What if she won't be there to do that for me anymore? And all because of a silly argument.

     And what am I going to do about Miss E now? I thought she was nice, and I thought I could handle being in her class. But she somehow seems scarier now. Just to remember the way she was glaring sends chills up my spine. And now I might need to face her alone, without the support of my best friend.

     I shiver as the gym teacher blows the almighty whistle again, and everyone reluctantly begins to run. I, too, start to stumble along, going as fast as my sadness and shock will allow me to. It isn't long before Billy catches up to me, breathing rather heavily, considering we've just started running. Just my luck, that he'd be in my gym class, too.

     "Hey babe, how's it going? You working up a sweat yet? I know I am."

     "How? It's like forty degrees out here."

     "Whoa, whoa. No need to get snappy at me. The Hub has feelings too, you know."

     "Leave me alone, Billy, I'm really not in the mood right now." Not that I'm ever in the mood to talk to him.

     "Not in the mood? C'mon, you just need a little cheering, *pant*, up. I know a really good, *gasp*, joke! Wanna hear it?"

     I let out a huff and speed up until I'm practically sprinting to get away from him.

     "Hey! Slow down, will you?!"

     I chuckle victoriously as I turn to see that I'm about fifteen yards ahead of him already.

     As I'm laughing at Billy, and not paying attention to my surroundings (and forgetting that the track goes in a circle), I run straight off the asphalt instead of turning, and come face to face with a very hard, very unmoving tree.

. . .

The next thing I know, I'm lying on a cot as a hand slowly moves a light across my field of vision, and a woman's voice asks me if I feel dizzy or nauseous at all.

"Nauseated," another voice says from the cot next to mine, followed by a cough that clearly isn't a sick cough, but rather a shut-up-and-listen-to-me cough.

The nurse turns around. "What?"

"It's a common grammatical mistake. People say nauseous when they really mean to say nauseated. Nauseous, in fact, is a term used to describe one who gives others nausea, or makes them nauseated."

Oh my God, who is this robot person?!

"June," the nurse says, "lie back down, or else your nose might start bleeding again." She turns back to me and feels my forehead.

"I'm fine, really," I insist. "...What happened?"

"According to your gym teacher, you hit your head on a tree and fell unconscious. Are you sure you don't feel nauseous?"