Higher, Faster, Stronger

Heart of Metal

Externally my body temperature according to my forehead was 98.6 degrees, my palms were cool and my face wasn't flushed. Internally I was fuming. Who did she think she was? I mean, common logic dictates you back off if someone tells you it's not right. She assumes too much. What's the saying, "When you assume, you become a pain in mine?" Something like that.

Anyway, my reasons are my own why I play. Ok fine, it's true that just like it but it's the only thing that I have left of my dad. I always played in his memory. I just generally don't tell many people that. I mean, I don't want to hand out tissues every time I tell a story about my past. Commence with the waterworks? No thank you.

I decided to call each one of my friends separately. Hannah understood and said she'd refuse comment. Neil said if Terry bothered either of us, (especially Hannah), he'd kill her. Nate was a little harder to get through to. He believed in direct confrontation but it doesn't always work the way it should. His cell phone was off but I found him online.

RamenNut: (Nate): I don't get it. Why wouldn't you want her to interview you? She'd back off.

FootballFlower: I already told you. She's not going to distort my story and subsequent life into something it's not. I'm not a 'standard for girl's rights' to quote, I'm just a chick who can through better than most guys.

RamenNut: snickers Don't tell Kael that. He thinks because he's on the special teams that he's god or something.

FootballFlower: Kael's only our back up kicker, why does he think he can throw? He must have a superiority complex. He's compensating for his lack of spine and definite lack of package.

RamenNut: I didn't need to hear that. Read that. Whatever!

FootballFlower: Sorry I just poisoned your mind. Hold on, the phone's ringing.

RamenNut: ok.

FootballFlower: Gah! I'm going to kill her!! She's practically become my stalker! Multiple phone calls and such. It's driving me nuts! Next thing you know she'll be following me to practice.

RamenNut: Ouch. If she tries to ask me anything I'll just walk away.

FootballFlower: Thanks, Nate.

RamenNut: I'm sorry Sarah, I'm going to get off now, and my stomach feels like it's going to heave…

FootballFlower: Ewww…lay off the ramen and go to sleep.

RamenNut: Yeah, yeah. Sayonara.

And I left it at that. Sunday came and went before I knew it and it was Monday soon.

She even left a note in my locker, saying she'd give me a preview of the article when the time was right. I'd never noticed before but she even ended up being in two of my classes. Chalk it up to ignorance or just plain stupidity on my part but heck; I didn't associate with her normally, so why should I care?

Ok scratch that, I care now, but only cause I have to!

And as it turns out, she was compiling her piece. She was single handedly whipping the school back into a frenzy that had only recently died down.

Rumors floated that she took polls of the representative student body of what they thought of me and she asked some to record their comments. I got a slew of opinions to choose from apparently. She even left updates in my locker. It's like a serial killer leaving bits and pieces of their last victim in your mailbox as a reminder. How could I forget? She only hounded me every ten seconds.

Straight out of math at the end of the day I went back to my locker and started banging my head against it. Hello Mister Shiny Locker, meet my Head! And subsequent brain damage. Or was it dain bramage? I didn't even know at this point.

"Ow. Ow. Ow." I kept hitting myself.

"If you have to do that, use your helmet." I heard a voice from behind me. It was the Thompson. He looked like he was on his way to his locker. Suddenly I had an idea.

"By the way, Nate is out with the stomach flu. Could you help me with something?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not babysitting the idiot." I shook my head.

"No, nothing like that. If a girl named Terry starts asking question to the guys on the team could you get rid of her please?"

"Can't you get rid of her yourself?"

"Would I be asking you if I could?"

He frowned and sighed.

"Fine, but don't get me involved in your soap opera."

"Understood."

This was probably the longest conversation we've ever had. It got easier to talk to him ever since he practically killed someone for groping me.

We both started to walk together to practice. I pulled out my mp3 player and started it when it was apparent he wasn't going to say anything.

Exiting the school doors, I turned to him and asked, "What's your favorite type of music?"

He raised his eyebrows again but answered eventually, "Metal usually, or rock. Something angry. It helps me concentrate."

We walked in silence the rest of the way. Or at least until the lockers split.

"What's yours?" he asked. I pulled the headphones out.

"My what?"

He frowned, looking annoyed, like he had to explain it to a child.

"Favorite music."

"Oh! That's easy. Techno with some europop."

"Hn."

"That was the longest civil conversation we've ever had."

"Hn."

We walked to our respective locker rooms and the time; I didn't know anyone was following us.

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After Friday's killer practice Coach set us to the field because we had a game tomorrow. We were facing Cloud-a fast team with some good players. There always were. The last thing we needed was any sort of mental disruption.

Got to tell you, at practice, a person can revert back to beast form. Don't think-just go. Breathe. Hit. Stop. Block. Run. That type of thing. Because if you start thinking then your aim will be off, especially in drills. Going on instincts is good most times. We're taught to read what we're facing as best as we can as humans. Got to trust what we think we know, right?

Alternating groups of us were running plays on half of the field each. Steve was there, dressed in heavier clothes than normal, and had a clipboard in his hand, scrutinizing and writing. He whistled loudly. It was our signal-Terry watch.

Now, if Coach had been there, he wouldn't have taken anything from her. She pulled me out of practice once for nothing.

Derek was running the plays like a drill sergeant.

She gracefully stepped onto the field with a notebook in hand, with a camera around her neck and a scarf as well.

I felt like a leopard staring down an equally big Bengal tiger. Cheetah vs. Lion, that type of thing.

Her head kept oscillating, with good reason. In uniform it's hard to pick me out. She could have been on a boy hunt….yeah right. And I bleed chocolate if that was her reason. However, she set herself on the benches.

After for more plays on each part, and a few snapshots from the stands, Derek got irritated. Which is pretty easy. He blew the whistle round his neck.

"You, in the stands. Get down here. Now."

He left no room for argument. Trying to make him change his mind was futile. Meanwhile, everyone's favorite bundle of joy lifted herself from her seat and nearly skipped down to where we were standing. I was situated toward the middle, with a few people strategically blocking me. To be fair, it was unintentional. I just stood near Neil and Keegan.

"You're disrupting my practice. Get out." He spoke coldly.

"It's a free country. Besides I'm just doing a school piece." She snorted. "Your practice? You're not the coach, only the team captain." She had a condescending look on her face and her infamous smirk, if you imagine it. It didn't think facial muscles could distort that way. Huh. You learn something new every day I suppose.

Smoothly Derek cut in. "You're not smart at all are you. In the absence of the coach, I'm in charge. And unless you're part of this team, who books the field exclusively from school's end to 4:30, get out."

Her ship was running a ground on the rocks. And she knew it.

"You allow him to be here," she stated, gesturing to Steve.

Well no crap he's here.

"He's our statistician and playmaker. Get out."

"She's here!" she said, waving a hand over us. I took off my helmet and nudged some people to let me through. She was targeting me. She was challenging me.

"She," he hissed, "is a legitimate member of this team. I will forcibly remove you if I have to."

"I'm here. What do you want?"

"You already know," she answered.

"Never challenge my position here again." Losing more ground….Ohhh it's Napoleon in Russia all over again.

"Removing me would be harassment."

"Oh, and the category of stalking falls with hugs from mom and lollipops?" I sneered. "And blackmail is cherry coated sundaes. Sure. Write what you want. It won't be the truth."

"Let's see what the readers believe." With a final challenging smile, she turned into a gust of wind and walked with a supermodel stance back toward the parking lot. Probably the only reason she did it was because she had many guys unconsciously staring at her butt in a dress.

A loud whistle interrupted their staring. It was Derek.

"4 laps before we go. Now."

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Nate wasn't in the next day either. His stomach flu was getting worse. But it was Iz that ran up to me and broke the news. She was carrying a newspaper. A school newspaper.

"Sweetie, you're never going to believe this…" she trailed off. When I didn't answer, she continued. "It's been distributed all around the school. I can't get it back."

She paused to catch her breath and stared at me.

"Sweetie?"

I was busy staring at the headline: Icy Captain Gets Fullback Shakedown.

There, on the front page was a picture of Derek and me walking to practice. The under heading of the article was: The True Reason for a Girl on the Boy's Team.

It went kind of like this:

Warm front coming in with the arrival of the new female fullback Sarah Hall on the boys football team. And the latest news is she's cuddling up to the cold as ice captain, Derek Thompson. They were seen getting cozy together headed to practice. Members of the student population were shocked. When interviewed they sounded off on this:

"Woah! Hall's hooking up with Thompson? Never thought I'd see the day!"

"We new from the start she was just there for boys."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"We like totally hate her now! We used to think she was ok, but oh my god. How shallow!"

These two sparked interest after Sarah Hall was let onto the boy's football team, despite the gender differences. While she declined comment she told me, "There wasn't a girl's team. And I just like to play!" Surely not, is the sky puce? There was no real reason for her to be there in the first place. Both Derek Thompson and Sarah Hall declined comment. Her recent performances in games haven't been spectacular, which leaves this reporter wondering, when is she going to leave?

By Theresa Santana, School Reporter.


Someone's going to pay.
♠ ♠ ♠
ugh so much stuff to do
WHY AM I GETTING A COLD NOW OF ALL TIMES
er...I love you :D