Planet B

Double Chocolate Chip is The Only Right Answer

Newton's Second Law:

Force equals mass times acceleration. F=ma.

________

I think my liver is gonna explode.

No, really. I'm not joking.

You think I'm joking.

You asshole.

No, I'm not. Because as of right now, my entire abdomen feels like someone just rearranged all my organs several times over and then left me there to unwind my small intestine from my kidneys.

Is that anatomically correct?

I don't care. Who cares? My liver is gonna explode, I don't have time for nitpicking human biology details.

We were currently suffering in the beautiful glow that was Monday morning conditioning. Core conditioning, that is. Conditioning of the weakest part of my body that should really be stronger considering I play pitch but I never relied much more on my muscle than I did my whip-fast impulse. I called it adaptation.

I did fine without a good core. Let me be without a good core. This is a free country. I have a right to a weak core. That was in there, right? All people reserve the unalienable right to completely suck at sit-ups.

If not, Thomas Jefferson has failed this country for the hundredth time since he wrote that damn thing.

"Briar," Coach said sternly.

"Yes?" I said, slightly muffled.

She sighed. "Get up. You're gonna swallow a worm."

"Good."

Coach grabbed me by the back of my shirt and hauled me to my feet, sighing heavily.

"I see we have a weak core on our hands," she said, looking me up and down.

The team snickered, to my chagrin. I huffed.

"Thanks, Coach," I muttered.

"No problem. Now quit moping and get to the sit ups."

"I know how to sit up just fine, I don't need to practice it," I objected.

She stared, then sighed heavily. "I don't get paid enough for this," she muttered. "Come on, I won't ask again. Get a partner and get in line."

"Aren't you in one of the higher income tax b--"

"Get a partner, Black."

I slumped, but followed her directions anyway, muttering a few choice words under my breath. Early morning fog provided us all with a scenic view of APU's light disk rink, cold and barren and, for once, relatively quiet. Mondays weren't all bad, considering my only classes occurred near afternoon, but rather than sleeping in, the price of elite light disk status brought me here. What have I done to deserve this?

Don't answer that.

The rest of the Hunters were doing far better than me. But it wasn't so much the ache in my core or the gloomy morning that was plaguing me as much as it was the faint scent of strawberry banana humiliation that carried itself everywhere Heather or Raj went. Everyone else had either gotten the memo, or took the atmosphere's hint, and conditioning had been horribly silent since it started.

Until now, of course.

Cole and Theo had partnered up, and Kate had taken Heather. Because I had great luck, obviously. Which left one person to be my option.