Higher, Faster, Stronger

A general piece of advice when you're mulling things over in the shower, eventually the water will get cold. Freezing cold, as it were. So as I went over my day, colder and colder water began to pour out of the nozzle. Once my mind woke up, I noticed the temperature of the water.

And shrieked loud enough to wake the neighbors. And I've got this one neighbor; she can sleep through a hurricane. I woke her up.

Mom came bursting into the bathroom just after I secured the towel around me.

"What happened!? Are you alright sweetie?" she asked.

"Um…my mind went on shutdown and the water got cold…" I muttered sheepishly.

She let out a big breath and sighed.

"Sweetie, just because you spend your time with men doesn't mean you should start acting like one…" she closed the door and left.

"Thanks a lot Mom!" I yelled over my shoulder.

I shook my head and continued to dry off. I was starting to get a headache from all the excitement. Ok, so it wasn't exciting, more like I was freaked out beyond belief. I wasn't the only one. Nate told me that Derek rarely acted like that. I didn't really have problems believing it. I almost never saw him lose his temper.

I on the other hand, in comparison, lost it every 5 minutes.

After getting dressed in my pj's I turned on my computer and switched on my instant messaging service. Not even Nate was on; his message said he was eating. Ramen no doubt.

That kid's as predictable as a bad horror movie.

After a 10 minute conversation with Hannah about the next day, (Friday thank God!), I hit the hay.
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Have you ever watched cartoons and the main character says,' what could possibly go wrong?', and in fact a whole slew of things actually does? This was one of those days.

You see, the funny thing is, no matter how much crap you can cram in your brain, it sometimes forgets the little things.

Like setting your alarm clock for instance.

See, I'm normally in school at 8, in class by 8:15. My alarm normally wakes me up at 7:15. I have a whole schedule planned out. Not today apparently. My mother's alarm however woke me up, at 7:55.

7:55!!?!? NUTS!!!

It would take me 5 minutes to get all of my football and school stuff up, a minute to dress, a minute to each eat, brush my hair, brush my teeth and 5 minutes to get to school.

I dashed into first period with literally 12 seconds to spare. It's lucky that I'm used to running with heavy things (my backpack) and used to running in general.

Thompson looked at me like I was crazy, as my chest kept heaving up and down. I was winded and still tired. Hungry too. I forgot any lunch I might have had.

Our teacher walked into the room and announced, "Take out your pens. It's test time."

I froze. Test? Oh God. There was a test today. And I forgot to study…

This was the start of a very long day.
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I had to say, this was my worst day at this school yet. A test I didn't study for, multiple bruises in dodge ball, a video of childbirth in Anatomy and Physiology, no lunch ( Hannah lent me 2 dollars to get a water and bag of chips), and for some reason, all my least favorite people joined a coalition today to tick me off. I kept thinking thank goodness for the weekend.

The weekend came after practice. It was the day after a game so I hoped coach wouldn't kill us too badly.

I was wrong. I'm starting to see a pattern here…

All drills.

All day.

I buried my face in my hands and wanted to cry.

Not to mention a cold front blew through and it was freezing. Because we weren't doing contact drills, and to 'toughen' us up, we weren't practicing with pads. Basically, he'd freeze us to make us tougher, even if our legs froze and snapped off in the process.

Too bad his philosophy was about as sound as a ninety year old's bladder after tea time.

So there we stood, outside in sweatpants and long sleeve shirts and gloves, freezing.

No one was immune. Even people like Neil were looking peaky.

One towards the end of practice, he lined us all up and started running us on the width of the field. Back and forth. He'd blow the whistle and we were off again. He was cutting off time the longer we ran. Referred to as 'Knockout' affectionately, because if you didn't make the whistle, you were out and he set you on the benches. Then you'd do more drills.

My salvation came in the form of a girl who was standing on the sidelines. She had on a light lavender dress that cut off at her shoulders, held up by fishnets. She had blond hair, like Nate, but held up in 2 spiky pigtails in the back. She talked to the coach for a minute and when we got back to his side of the field, he stopped us.

"Hall!" he jerked over his shoulder toward the girl, "Nurses office."

I knew I'd sent all my forms in. Something was up.

She frowned, out in the cold.

"Want to go to the locker room?" I nodded yes.

We walked the short distance and step into the warmth of the girl's locker room. The cheerleaders were in the gym. My cheeks were flushed with cold and my fingers were tingly. We sat down.

"The name's Terry, reporter for the school newspaper. I was hoping to get an interview for a piece I want to do about you."

I frowned. She had balls alright.

"You lie to my coach and pull me out of practice." I waggled two fingers in front of her. "Give me another reason not to like you."

She wasn't fazed. "It's warmer in here anyway."

"It's nice. Thanks but no thanks. I'm…flattered you considered me, but I don't want to make more waves than I have to." I got up to go.

"Whether you want to or not, you already did. You don't get it, do you? This is big news! This is a big pull for female rights! It'll inspire thousands! You have to do it!"

"I don't have to do anything!" I snapped, now steamed. "I came out for this team because I like football and there was no girl's team. I don't know what you've heard because it's wrong. Move and let me get back to practice."

This Terry wasn't one to be intimidated by sheer size, she was tall and healthy looking to me. I brushed passed her, however, like a thin piece of paper. I let the cold air hit my face as I angrily returned to practice. By the time I got there, there was only 5 minutes left and everyone was starting to disband. Not even bothering to change out of my cold clothes, I ran, grabbed my crap and ran to my car. I got home in record time and switched on my computer, steaming.

Thank goodness for geniuses. I instant messaged Steve.

FootballFlower: (me) Hey, you there?

TroublesomeEinstein: Yup. What's up?

FootballFlower: I need you to do a check on a girl named Terry. She said she worked for the paper. And I know you keep profiles of everyone on your computer, with personal notes.

TroublesomeEinstein: Ok, but why?

FootballFlower: Just do it, ok? I'll tell you later.

TroublesomeEinstein: Fine. I'll have it for you in the morning. It'll be in your email. I've got a lot of work to do.

FootballFlower: You don't do work though.

TroublesomeEinstein: There's a term paper that needs doing. See you later.

And he signed off. Steve was more reliable than the school's own records. When he wasn't sleeping, he was cloud watching. And when he wasn't cloud watching, he was observing people.

I groaned. As if I didn't have enough to deal with. School, sleep, an annoying alarm clock, Derek… I couldn't figure out if he hated me or not. I'm pretty sure he did 'cause if was anything other than that, he gave no implications. Throw me a bone? Denied!

My mind turned back to Terry: she had a crooked sort of smile that could impale you at ten yards, and she was confident of herself.

And just when I though all this was starting to die down.

On this scale there were the right wing male chauvinists and the left wing nutso feminists. I'd had my share of the right wing nut jobs. Now, I suppose it was time for the left wing to try to clean my clock.

It was 5:30 and the day had me whipped.
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I woke up early. Hey, I went to bed early! I switched on my computer automatically and went to my inbox. Steve had indeed sent the email. It's message:

Theresa Santana: Moved here from Saratoga Beach in freshman year. Currently a senior. Major writer and supporter of the school newspaper. Her works have been published in local magazines and papers and even a bigger ranking magazine. She has a journalism scholarship to the college of her choice... She's very persistent in finding her story. Nothing short of bombs makes her stay away. Considers herself feminist. Was nearly kicked off the paper for writing an article denouncing chauvinism.

Is that enough info?

I smiled; he had come through for me. Then I frowned because nothing short of a nuclear holocaust could dissuade this girl from thinking there is no story when she thinks there's one.

I did what any self respecting girl would in my situation (completely overwhelmed): I sat at home all day and gorged myself.

At about noon, the phone rang. Mom was out so I got it.

"Hello?"

"Is this Sarah Hall? It's Terry Santana. We met in the locker room yesterday."

"You have a lot of nerve calling me here. You also have ten seconds to give me a good reason why I shouldn't hang up on you."

"Because this is real news and I'd love to have your perspective. I'll end up writing the article anyway. And there are a thousand people I could ask about you."

"Then go ask them."

"Including," she continued, "Your friends Hannah Hogan and Nathan Woods."

My blood ran cold.

"You're going to blackmail my friends into finding an imaginary scoop for a story that has little basis in fact?" I hollowly laughed.

"I'm not blackmailing them," her voice said. "I'm simply asking them for their opinions. That's not against the law."

"No, but harassment is. There is no story here."

She laughed, almost manically. "Oh but you're wrong. There is something more than what meets the eye. How did a girl get on the boy's football team? Why are you doing this? Those types of questions are what drive me."

I rolled my eyes.

"As fascinating as it is to hear what it is that motivates you to get up in the morning," my sarcasm sounded, "I don't owe anyone an explanation. Off the record, no, I'm not normally this uncaring. But you're poking into my business. I have my reasons. And the world doesn't need to read about them. Leave my friends alone. Bye."

I hung up the phone quickly.

It rang a minute later.

I picked up the receiver and yelled, "What!?"

Izzy's voice sounded over the phone.

"Geez, what died in your shower this morning?"

I turned off the TV and explained the situation with Terry.

She whistled low. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. But I'm out of ice cream."