"WELL, THAT'S A great way to start the morning," Alex mutters to herself, peering at the sticky tape bundled notebook dangling from her fingers.
Half of the items in her locker were coated in about seven hundred layers of sticky tape, and the other half were glued to their shelves.
"I take it Riley didn't take the water balloon prank too well."
Turning to meet the hazel eyes and messy hair of Dean, Alex smiles sardonically.
He takes the notebook from her, and whistles lowly.
"Don't worry," Alex smiles at him, taking the book back and tossing it back into her locker, "We were just getting started."
"That's my girl. Now let's get to PE before we get detention."
~*~
"Three laps around the field. Let's go, people, get moving!" Coach Phillips blows her whistle as the group of teenagers hastily assembles themselves along the start of the track eight minutes into the period.
Beginning a slow jog, Alex tightens her ponytail and tries not to think about the next two laps and three quarters that she'll have to endure.
"Having fun?" Dean sidles up to her, easily matching her pace.
"So much," Alex rolls her eyes, focusing on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, "Can't you tell that I just love running?"
"Totally," Dean chuckles a tad breathlessly.
Dean stays at her side for the remainder of the laps, even going so far as to encourage Alex to keep going for the last difficult two hundred meter stretch. It surprises her —almost as much as the fact that she managed to finish without walking—because he is definitely the kind of guy to lead the laps and beat everyone by a mile.
Breathing heavily with her hands behind her head, Alex faces Dean with a scowl, "How the heck do you look so unruffled after that? We just ran a mile!"
"Actually, that was just a one thousand, two hundred, not quite a mile."
"Just twelve hundred meters straight of running, no big deal."
Chuckling lightly, Dean takes a swig from his water bottle.
"Divide into teams," Coach Phillips calls after a few minutes of sweet freedom, "We're playing soccer today, lads."
"Oh shit."
"Hey!" Dean faces the flushed girl with a hand over his chest, "You wound me."
"Not like that, you buffoon," She thwacks him with the back of her hand, "I'm just terrible at it."
"Trent, you're bibs," Phillips tosses the bundle of luminous green to the grimacing boy.
"Yay, we get to be highlighters," Liam Trent remarks as he snatches them out of the air and begins to untangle them.
"Deacon, you're non-bibs," Phillips continues, "Choose your teams."
Trent immediately calls for Dean, and he saunters over to quietly converse as Deacon calls his first member, a tall ginger that Alex can't seem to remember the name of for some reason.
YOU ARE READING
Out To Get Her
Teen Fiction[First place winner of The Cosmoetic Awards Teen Fiction category!] All Alexis Taylor wanted was to get though her senior year unscathed and under the radar. Few knew she existed, and she liked it that way. But all her plans turned to rubble the mom...
