Catch Christopher

I yelped, covering my head with my hands as my shoulders rose to my ears. Water dripped from my bangs onto my nose and cheeks.

The air smelled wet and of peppermint.

An eerie gloom gathered around the field in the form of fog.

"Coach, are we going in?" someone shouted.

"Yeah, coach, we can't run in this."

"Are you men and women, or mice?" Coach roared over the rain, tipping his burgundy cap lower on his head.

There was collective grumbling as we all made our way to the track.

Christopher touched my arm lightly. "Catch me if you can, Frosty." He grinned and took off.

I watched him, his fluid body moving in perfect strides.

As I watched Chace run, it was like his feet barely skimmed the ground. Wiping the hair off my face, I started to run.

One foot in front of the other. I could do this.

This time I knew it. I sensed the changes.

When I'd run in the past, my body would tense, my knees would freeze, and, according to Cindy, it looked like I had a board shoved up my derriere.

It felt