Running The Miles

Chapter 1

         It was the first day of highschool. And it was also the day for football tryouts. I've been playing for four years now, so I'm used to the stares as i walk up to the table where you sign your name. Fifteen other people -most likely boys- have already signed their names, stating how long they've played. I've been playing longer than all of them. No surprise.

        It's my second year of highschool, but I'm new to this district. I get people who occassionally ask what my name is, where i came from, the usual bit. 

        When i start to walk away from the table, i hear the low laughter of a group of boys as i walk past them. They walk to the table and sign their names too. It seems that they've read my name and my information, and have now turned around to stare at me as i walk away to my first period. 

        The day goes by like the average school day. Blurred images of several papers that need to be signed by your parents, get to know you sheets, and so on. The only thing that I've had my mind on the entire day was the football tryouts that were today.

        Yes, their tryouts are extremely early, like the first day of school early, but it said in the form that it was to prepare the newcomers, and to give everyone an early start, allowing them to get back into routine with enough time. I never stop playing football, the extra time is not needed. 

        When the final bell rings, and the class is dismissed, i gather my belongings, and head to the bathroom to change into my football undergarment, which is my camo pants, my grey t-shirt, my football cleats, and i tie my hair into a messy pony tail. When I'm done, I grab my sports gear, leave my things in the locker room, and i head out to the field, where everyone has started already.

        I'm just walking out of the back door to the field when everyonelooks at me. I'm far away, but the coach looks up, and he just does a single chuckle, then looks back down at his clipboard with the list of the names.

        But the boys continue to stare at me, and i stare back at them. Murmurs run through everyone, judging my being a girl. I really hope that these dudes aren't on steroids, and that i dont make a fool of myself.

        "Well, a girl signing up for football, this is a first," says the coach, checking names down for who's present. "What's your name?" he asks. The boys stare at me, waiting.

        "Nicole," i say. He chacks my name down, and then moves on to the next name. When everyone is called, and the try-outs proceed, the stares continue relentlessly. 

        First up was the weight pushers. We had to move eighty-pound weights across the field by pushing it. We did one-hundred pounds at my old school, wimps.

        And that's when the stares turned into awed expressions, when I pushed the weight all the way down the field faster, and in less time than everyone else. The coach seemed impressed. "Nice work," said the coach, skeptical of my awesomeness. Everyone else was just downright amazed.

        Onto the next stage.