Life Of Two Best Friends: High School CHPT 8

Life Of Two Best Friends CHPT 7


I wanted to talk to Jenny after classes but my day kind of snowballed. Classes were non stop; the teachers seemed to actually want to teach today. Don’t get me wrong, I know not all teachers are the same; however, the teachers at our school seem to be over trying to get through to some of us.

Anyways, at lunch I thought maybe I would find her, but she was at counseling; I guess she decided she needed it or Mrs. Bailey insisted. Which of course caused the whispering to begin. The rumors started out as Jenny was confessed to and she beat the guy up. Turned to Jenny was confessed to, and I out of jealously fought the guy. Then it completely changed into John was beating me to a pulp and Jenny came to save me. I went from not being there, to jealous, to a wimp. Yeah, I really do hate high school rumors, but the rumors were not going to lessen Jenny’s emotions. Before I could maybe help her, it was practice time and I had to stay away.

Practice was normal. Coach discovered I used the pass and he told everyone of my wonderful decision. They were all dying from yesterday, and now they had to do more because of me. Thanks Coach. Not like today should be any easier.

As I said practice was normal. We swam. We died. We swam. We died. Repeat as many times as you think is enough, and then times by a hundred and you got us. However, my mind wasn’t in the pool, it was on Jenny and how her day went. I can imagine not well. I’ll try and find her after practice if possible.

“Okay everyone that’s it. I saw the practice you did yesterday; I don’t want to completely kill you, and besides you will be feeing it tomorrow,” Coach said with that satisfied smirk. “I liked the set though, you can expect to do it in the future,” Coach said gleefully.

Great. Thanks Coach.’ I think to myself as I look around at the exhausted glares.

“Get out of here,” Coach says and everyone pulls themselves out of the pool. As I climb out, “George, come here a minute.”

What else is new. Coach probably wants to critic my running ability or take away all the prideful words he said this morning.

“Where is your head at? I know is not here. Mental is a huge part of swimming. You just swam like a struggling dog,” Coach suddenly switched to his frustrated, pissed tone.

“Sorry Coach. I’ll be better tomorrow,” I said half believing myself.

“Nope. I’ve already let your parents know,” Coach said as he finishes a text and slips his phone away. “You will be staying late. You will do a new set, and you will continue until I believe you are giving it your all. Giving me a pathetic workout does nothing for you or me. I need one hundred percent effort. Let’s go.”

Pointless to argue, I jump into the pool to begin my stupid punishment for being a high school teenager athlete.

This is my first time where I want to hit or push Coach into the pool. Coach stopped me and made me start over about three or four times, before I finished the first half. He kept saying I was distracted and I needed to give it my all. I understood what he wants me to do but I’m a teenager guy who is worried about his girl…or maybe girl. I started the second part, and Coach threatened to make me start all over. So I did what he wanted; I became a swimming robot. My mind was all about the
water. Done. I must admit it was probably the best workout I had done all season, but I wasn’t about to tell Captain Cranky Pants Coach that.

“That was better. Good hustle George,” Coach said as he sipped his coffee. “I’m tough on you because I want you to succeed. I want you to be the best you can be. Now, I want this George,” he said gesturing to exhausted me, “to be at practice from now on. Got that?”

‘Yes Coach,” I answered barely breathing.

“Good. Now go change and go home. See you tomorrow,” Coach said as he left the deck.

In so much pain, I made it to the locker room. It was quiet. I showered enough to be clean and then I changed. I grabbed my belongings and headed out. I probably looked like a zombie as I headed to my car; I defiantly felt half dead. It was already dark outside, but I still saw her. There stood Jenny leaning against my car door. She was
alone, which seemed dangerous to me; she looked lifeless again.

“Jenny?” I said weakly since I was in lots of pain.

Her head slowly turned to me. She was crying and whimpering to herself.

I walked up to her, “I sorry to ask you this again, but are you okay?”

“No. I’m not okay,” She said as she stepped forward and hugged me. “But with you I’m better.”

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