It was a hot day. It was very early in my first cross country season, I want to say it was only our second section meet. All day I felt the awkwardness of my warmups that we were forced to wear during the school day causing me to sweat like a hooker in church. Why do my school colors have to be black?
I get on the bus after school, along with the rest of my team, and we begin our journey to the school we are running against. The only thing really on my mind is just hoping the other team doesn't have 5 boys, because I really want my team to win, but I was feeling like crap. Between my body feeling like an oven and having a head ache, my heart was also dented from yet another girl fiasco. Oh well, life goes on. At the time, it was eating away at me.
So I get off the bus, and at this point I really don't want to be there. I'm just pissed off. I start walking over to some bench to sit on, and some fruit cake in a green XC uniform walks up to me and stands there. I look up and my eyes meet his.
"Hi, welcome to Adamstown," he said as he reached is arm out for a handshake.
"Uh... thanks," I said. I just looked down again at my iPod screen, ignoring his hand. Intimidated by this display of unbreakable focus on my part, he began to walk away.
We walked the course, my mind still on the girl. At this point, I really just wanted to fake an injury or something so I could sleep on the bus and be home sooner. But no, my team had a race to win, and I was our 5th boy. Walking the course almost brought me to the boiling point however. Why the **** do I really need to walk every tedious step of this course? It's not like I'll have no one to follow. And if I'm so far behind that there is no one to follow, I'll just wing it.
By the time I was at the line, I was ignoring everyone, even the words of encouragement from the girls team (and her ). The gun went off and I took off. I was pissed so I just went out, knowing very well I would die. Who cares, it's just XC.
As usual, the race was felt like it was taking an eternity, when suddenly, the kid in the green from early starts to run along side me.
"What's the big idea not returning my handshake huh? You think you are a cool guy or something?" he said, very loudly.
"Uh.... yeah, I guess so," I replied. This made him furious. Suddenly, I look over and there is a team-mate of his behind us. He falls back to his team-mate for a second and whispers something. I knew something was about to go down.
Immediately, the three of us start picking up the pace. I knew I couldn't hang on to this pace any longer, but I was outnumbered. So when we came to a hill, I just dropped to the ground. I rolled over and picked my feet up. It worked perfectly. Both of the two knuckleheads tripped over me and went tumbling down the hill.
I walked over to them. One of them had actually hit is head off a rock and was out cold. I couldn't believe it! I had just pulled off some ancient warrior type **** on them and now only my original foe remained.
"You really want some, kid?" he asked as he got up.
"Not really, but you look like you do." With that, I lunged at him and tacklked him to the ground. I kept swinging and swinging and all my hits were connecting. I then got off of him and gave him a few kicks to the side and to his hip. When I connected with his hip, he started screaming loudly. I just took off and planned to finish the race and deny everything.
My finish ensured a victory for me team, but then the two boys came over with their coach and asked to speak with my coach. I came over too.
"This kid fought us on the course!" he accused.
"I have no idea what he's talking about," I said. I definitely should be an actor, Denzel would have been jealous of that line.
"Yes you did you liar, why else would I be all bruised up?"
"Father issues? I don't know, it's not my problem," I said. I just had to hang on for a little longer and soon the coaches would loose interest in this game of he said he said.
"I just got back from being injured, but you still hit me on the hip!" he wailed.
"He did what?" my coach asked.
"He hit me on the hip," the kid explained.
"So?" my coach asked.
"What do you mean so? I have a bad hip and your kid just hit me on the hip!" The kid was getting angry.
"I still don't see what the big deal is," my coach explained. "Hit me on the hip means page me."
"What?" The kid was confused.
My coach smiled as he tried to explain. "Hit me on the hip means page me
Angel dust is sherm, if you got AIDS, you got the germ
If a chick gave you a disease, then you got burned
Max mean to relax, guns and pistols is gats
Condoms is hats, critters is cracks
The food you eat is your grub
A victim's a mark
A sweat box is a small club, your tick is your heart
Your apartment is your pad
Your old man is your dad
The studio is the lab and heated is mad
I know you like the way I'm freakin' it
I talk with slang and I'ma never stop speakin' it"
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