Higher, Faster, Stronger

My stomach was in absolute knots. I was nearly screaming with rage. First period I had gym and I walked there with a look of absolute anger. Still there are stupid people in the world. But it's Murphy's Law right? Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong". Hanlon's Razor seems to work too: "Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity." Except she knew what she was doing was going to irritate me. Terry's no moron. Finagle's Law works as well: "Anything that can go wrong, will—at the worst possible moment". Amen to that.

I just kind of knew this wasn't going to be my day. I felt sick, whether by rage or the weather or something! I felt sick.

How could someone stoop so low and be so bitter?

Not even stopping at my locker, I just ran to the girl's locker room. Some members of my class were there. Some were giving me pointed looks. Some were whispering at me. As I focused on my lock on the locker, I murmured, "If you want to say something to me, say it to my face."

The entire room got quiet. A pin dropped could have sounded like cannon fire. Grabbing my clothes I threw back the curtain of the changing stall. I dropped my things and threw back my hair into a ponytail.

It was weight room today. Weight Room is filled with all sorts of things related to its name, plus treadmills and other stuff. You might remember, it's where I met Nate. They also have a punching bag and some yoga equipment.

It smells like boy's BO in there mixed with girl's perfume a bit. Don't ask me how those scents mix, they just do. I stretched my arms and took a defensive stance against the punching bag and just started wailing at it.

Right, right, left.

Some of the girls seemed a little afraid to be around me trying to kill a punching bag so they left me alone. Whatever, it's their prerogative. Oh nuts. I have a game today. I wasn't in the mood for sports today. I wasn't in the mood for jack squat today but maybe a hot bath or something. And gorging on food.

A girl named Meagan held my punching bag steady for a moment before I looked up at her. I'm not really sure what face I had on. Some refer to it as stony in appearance, kind of a just-there look.

I looked up expectantly. She looked hesitant.

"What?" Ok fine, it wasn't really polite but in a show of hands, who feels like being polite when pissed off?

"You're not really going out with him are you?" she asked softly.

"No. I'm not."

"Sorry if this made a bad impression on the school though. I admire what you're doing though." She held out her hand for me to shake. I didn't hold on long, cause of sweaty boxing hands. I nodded my thanks.

Still, one act of kindness wasn't enough to make up for the sniggers and stares. One girl came up to me before lunch and blatantly told me to my face, "What could he ever see in you?"

I snapped.

I grabbed her throat and pushed her up to the nearby lockers.

"Get this straight," I hissed. "That article didn't have a word of truth in it! I'm not dating him. Get that through your thick skull!"

I let go and stalked off. I knew my actions had consequences and I was fully prepared to defend myself if need be. The day dragged on and I didn't get suspended. I'm banking on the chance that she had too much pride to turn me in. Or she was afraid of me.

Even worse, every time I saw Derek in the hall or in one of my classes he ignored me. It just made me feel worse inside that someone I considered a friend would do that. I was lonely without my surrogate brother Nate. Hannah just didn't have the same energy as sweet as she was.

The only upside was some of my friends on the team. Most of them gave me a smile sympathetic smile if they saw me. I'd nod back in return.

Neil and Iz tried to form a barrier around me when they saw me or had classes with me.

Neil did manage to make me laugh once though.

"I'm fullback half the time. And contrary to popular belief, I'm not female and nor do I have any desire to date pasty face ice weasels."

I couldn't stop laughing at this. It was hard enough to see their "man talk" on the field but I couldn't image them hugging or anything like it. Ok, I could, because that would be hot but you get the point.

Fast forward to game time.

Coach took one look at me and told me to sit on the bench.

"You don't look well and besides, I want to try out some of the rookies." I knew I should be insulted but it was just one more thorn being inserted into my butt. I was too incensed by everything else to even try. My practical side kept arguing that it was a free pass. My irritated side pointed out it was closer to a hot shower and a tub of caramel fudge ice cream.

"Can I actually go home? I don't really feel too well." He nodded and gestured to the locker room. I wondered why he was being so nice. Normally you'd need a better excuse than that. But as I walked toward the bleachers I saw a copy of a newspaper under his playbook. I didn't even have to check to know which one it was. Steve was sitting nearby and he had heard what we'd said. I just asked him to tell Neil, ok?

I hit the locker room just as the cheerleaders were going out. It was a pain to suit up and then take the pads off but heck, I was going home. I had a curt tap on my shoulder when I turned around and there was Iz.

"Stop it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're wallowing in self loathing. That's not the Sarah I know. Now stop. Things are bad but they could be much worse."

"Yeah, but self loathing is what females to best. Men scratch and spit and we hate ourselves."

"Sweetie, don't worry it'll blow over soon."

"Iz," I said, sitting on the bench. "I'm so sick of this. Every day I hear whispers and comments about something about me. Can't they find a new scapegoat?"

"Well, no offense, hun, but you made a big impression. And yes, people are stupid. But you, my dear, have to ignore that. It'll make you a better person in the future. So stop hating yourself and go home. I assume that's where you're going any way." She peered at my face.

"You don't look so good."

"I know, I know. I'm going home."

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I hit the send button on my phone which connected me to Derek's house. I was at home under a comforter in the living room with my mom reading in the corner. When he didn't pick up, I got the message to leave a message.

"Hey Derek? It's Sarah. I'm sorry for involving you in this whole mess, ok? I didn't know she was going to do that. So again, I'm sorry. Bye."

I hung up and looked at Mom, who was looking at me.

"Bad day? Boy trouble?"

"You don't know the half of it." I blurted out the rest of the story. At the end of it, she came over to my coach and sat.

"Isabelle's right, dear. You can't dwell on it, or it will drive you insane ok? So tomorrow's a new day. Just don't listen to morons. That's how I landed your father, dear."

"Mom!" I was kind of laughing at this point.

"I'll make you some tea. You don't look well, are you sure you're ok?"

"Personally, it could be a bug or it could be stress. I can't tell the difference these days."

"Green tea ok?"

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Ok. Coach was right. Izzy was right. And of course, Mom was right. I knew I was sick the next day with something. I kept getting sweaty and dizzy and I didn't have much of an appetite. But if I skipped it would seem even worse for my cause.

I went in despite objection.

The only comments I got were from everyone telling me I looked like crap. Thank you so much.

Even Derek. "Go home. You're sick."

I got that in passing but I was seriously considering taking him up on his offer. I was sweaty, achy and I didn't want to keep anything in my stomach. Hannah kept telling me I looked the color of skim milk. Iz made a point of telling me to stop being a 'masochist' and go home. Neil told me I was a sucker for pain, and I wearily pointed out that Iz told me that already.

Anyway, I didn't even know how I made it all the way to football practice. My breathing was all off. By the time stretching was done, I was cold and sweaty and I felt like I was going to heave at any moment. There was no doubt where I had gotten it: a school is a Petri dish of bacteria.

Oh crap. It was coming up.

"I don't feel well coach. I think I have what Nate does." Before he could say a word, I sprinted back to the gym and found a waste bin to throw up in. I still felt really weak, as if I weighed like a feather and a breeze were going to knock me over. I had to tell the coach I was sick, so I headed out again. Ok. Headed may not be the right word. Staggered more like. I felt drunk almost. Tipsy. Before I even made it, I found myself face up on the ground. The sun was bright that day, and that's all I really remember.

I was sweaty, all clammy and hardly remember Neil and Derek supporting me back into the boy's locker room. It was an emergency.

"Report back to coach on her condition." Thompson's voice left no room for discussion.

I stared at his black eyes for a second and promptly passed out.

They called Iz in to take off my pads. I was cold (probably the virus, so I wore a long sleeve shirt and long pants) that day.

The virus was taking a toll on me as I mostly slept and kept passing in and out of consciousness. It felt like I got hit by a Mack Truck. I hardly felt Derek lifting me to his car. I didn't even know he took me to a hospital. When I woke up, there were two people in the room. Mom and…Derek? Why was I in a bed?

"I feel like I've been gargling with battery acid." I murmured. Mom looked up from her book and I felt a pair of hawk eyes pierce me from the corner.

"Sweetheart, next time you're listening to me when I tell you that you're sick." She tried to sound firm but didn't quite make it. I moved to get up but she pushed me down again.

"Don't even think about it. You'll pull out your IV."

Huh. So I was on an IV.

"You, dear, have a bad bout of stomach flu. Here's your water though." It was what I'd been reaching for.

Suddenly, her cell went off her purse.

"Excuse me, honey, I need to take this." She opened it with a flip and exited the room.

I peered over in the corner. "You didn't have to stay." He just shrugged.

"No, really. Thanks."

"Leaving a sick player on the field is one of the worst things you can do."

"You could have brought me home. Or brought the school nurse."

He made a face at me. "I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her. And no, you needed medical attention."

My eyes went wide. "Where's the bucket?" I asked in horror.

He raced over and handed to me, as I yet again started emptying the contents of my besieged stomach.

"Oh charming." I muttered.

"Do batteries taste good?" he asked sarcastically.

"I'd appreciate the joke more I wasn't in agony." I spit out a kernel in wonder. When was the last time I'd had popcorn? We waited for 2 awkward minutes before he spoke again.

"I need to go though." He said.

"Ok. Bye." The door closed as his back kept walking out.

OH dang! I forgot to apologize for the whole Terry thing!

Oh well. I'd do it tomorrow I guess. Mom came back in with a smile on her face. "You're set to go home. He's prescribing some medication and gave me a list of things to calm a stomach down. He said no school for at least a day. Or until you stop puking." She looked over at my basket. "Which, by the look of things will be a while."

I laid my head back on the pillow. So much for the whole "tomorrow" thing. Nuts.