Track Champion

The First of Four Parts. In a short amount of words, the summary is: A girl dreams of winning the Spring Race against her long-winning rival.

The blood in my ears was pounding as I surged forward towards the lovely blue ribbon that could be mine. My legs had worked tirelessly for thirteen miles and the sweat flew from my body like a springy water fountain. I was a sprinkler of tireless joy. I was waiting, just waiting, for the announcer above to scream out the winner: my name.

Have…To…Win…

But no. I was in the lead for less than four seconds before my rival, Raphael, raced in front of me. He was grinning with pride, his legs like a machine. Going, going, going, gone! I heaved a sigh of discreet disappointment. Eyes gleaming with pools of tears, I heard the horrible sound of, “Winner: Raphael!”

Not to sound selfish, though. I’ve never won a race. I’ve never had a sacred moment to shine in the spotlight, the sound of my name echoing from the wooden stands. The audience clapping for me, not Raphael. Not only does Raphael win all the races, but he gloats after. Pride shone in his handsome emerald eyes. I do think he’s kind of cute

My dream is to beat him. The only way to achieve it, was to seize the winnings of the next race, then to the nationals. Only the top six racers make it to the nationals, and I want to be the first of those six.

Raphael grinned smugly, then I knew he was conceited. “Nice job, Raphael.” I told him softly, embarrassment coloring my face. His quick reflexes caused him to whip around and smile at me. “Did I sense a brief congratulations?” he asked smugly, grinning from ear to ear. Sneering, I almost leaned into his face and growled, “Not in your life.” But, being nice, I didn’t. So, instead, I switched my sneer into a shy smile. “Yeah, nice job.” and a wave of satisfaction splashed on his pale tan face. Then, he whisked himself away to be the receiver of all the good news.

 

I saw Raphael the next day in the hall, being his usual conceited self. Shy, I turned to see my best friend Rhea kicking her sticker covered locker closed. It was our last year of Junior High. Being a eighth grader meant to rule the school, but it also meant hard choices and difficult subjects. By the expression that remained on Rhea’s face, I inferred that Rhea was not happy.

I glimmer of amusement flickered like candlelight on my face.

Then, when Rhea saw me, a salty wave of relief crashed on top of her. Grinning, she rushed over. “Thought you were out.” she explained excitedly. “Today’s the Science test, and I wouldn’t have anyone to help me study at Skills.”

I chuckled playfully. It means the world to Rhea when I study with her and help her get good grades. She played field hockey, and she doesn’t get much time to study. We’re grateful that we have Skills at the beginning and end of the day. Each time we study, she gives me twenty five cents. In about sixteen years, I’ll be rich!

By lunch time, the Science test was over and done with. Chewing my protein bar, I sat down at a thick wooden table with assorted benches neatly connected by black bars. The ceiling was dotted with shinning lights, and the floor was splattered with wooden tables, gray plastic trashcans, and colorful eighth grader that were munching afternoon snacks. The lunchroom is a busy room.

I saw Rhea coming to the table. Her face and colored with a confused and puzzled look. Her eyes were twisted into a crooked glare at something beside me. Thinking it was a banana peel with eyes, (What? You can’t tell with Rhea) I turned to see what Rhea was so puzzled about. Sitting next to me, munching alone quietly, was Raphael.

Angrily, I exploded on him. “Hey! Just ’cause I told you ’Good Job’ yesterday, doesn’t mean you could sit with me at lunch!”

Grinning, he twisted his neck until his emerald eyes were fixed on me. When our eyes locked, a smooth sensation came over me. Then, my shield went up. “Move.” I growled. I don’t mean to be hostile, but I don’t like this kid. He always catches up to me, everyday he has something to brag about…I guess I’m just jealous. Smiling, he said, “Sit with me on the bus, Diana?” then, he slipped away from the table leaving me stunned and unable to answer.

 

The bus ride home was noisy and not enjoyable. My head was buzzing when Raphael slid next to me. “Hi.” he greeted shyly.

Who was this and what did he do with Raphael? The new kid began blushing uncontrollably, and I remembered that’s how Raphael acted when he liked a girl. My eyes widened as I quickly changed seats.

 

Six days later, the racing field was ready. I had arrived four minutes early for two reasons: one, so I could beat Raphael there. Two: I wanted to buy sweatbands.

Mom had given me twenty dollars to buy sweatbands for my sister and I. Ana, who was six, and I were racing against each other, but Ana only raced because I did it. She followed me around, and did what I did. That’s little sisters for you!

When I saw the sweatbands, I almost fell over in surprise. Nine dollars apiece! Slowly forking over the money to the bald man with a tremendously large mustache, grief suddenly crowded my eyes. I remembered buying sweatbands with Grandma, before she died. When I walked over to stretch, I whispered to myself, “Grandma, this is for you.”

Tossing my receipt that had the sweatbands listed on it with my school clothes, my sharp eyes spied Ana talking to Rhea’s niece. How, you ask? Rhea’s mom was married twice, and had other kids. Her oldest had kids. Then, her step brother’s kids became Rhea’s niece. Ana and Rhea’s niece, Kristen, were good friends. And Kristen also raced. Leaning into a calf-muscle stretch, I smiled. I had tried to deceive Ana by telling her that Kristen wasn’t going to be there. No way you could fool neither Ana or me!

I forgot to say that in the last six days, I had finished the fall race! Ana, Raphael, Kristen, and I had all made. Of course, Raphael had won. Just when I was remembering the thoughts of the last race, a diesel truck pulled into the parking lot, almost colliding with a yield sign. Oh great. I thought. It’s Raphael.

 

Raphael had gotten out of the truck yelling his belief to his father that being early meant winnings would come on silent wings. His tremendously loud voice had interrupted the leisure time before the race. It was done, anyway. The six racers lined up before the finish line.

The Ref had explained to us that we would run for one mile in a circle to the finish line. We didn’t have much time, so she cut it short.

Eyes gleaming, I heard the familiar gunshot echo through the air. The crowd screamed when the racers took off. My wings took flight as I ran down the track, the wind like a angry lion roaring in my ears. I caught Raphael one foot in front of me, Ana a few feet behind, closely followed by Kristen. The other racers followed Kristen like puppies.

Grinning, I used all my energy the yank my striking frame forward. Sweat flew into my eyes as I watched Raphael get away from me. The thought of the announcer yelling my name echoed in my mind, and I raced forward.

I could feel the other racers’ glare bore into my back. I ignored and kept the thought burning in my mind.

Winner: Diana!

 

I flew forward, using any strength left to push forward. I passed Raphael! The finish line was in sight, this time a shinning blue ribbon. Eyes full of tears, I shoved forward, right into the finish line!

Before the other racers finished and carried me away somewhere, I heard the amazing and joyful sound of “Winner: Diana!”

Finally, tears sprang from my joyous heart and out my joyous eyes full of happiness.

 

 

Author's Note

I very much enjoyed writing this...

Reviews

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

I greatly recommend entering this contest: http://www.writerscafe.org/contests/Prose-and-
Poetic-Athletics/50031/

[mirui]

This is a great story about track. This is also very inspirational for me because i run it. keep writing and hope you can make more track stories.