When stretching was done, we formed a semicircle around the coach. He stood at the front, clipboard in hand. He scribbled something in pen then sighed before tucking the clipboard under his arm.
“Right, so I’m Coach Wells,” he sighed. It was if he was completely bored. “We’re doing the run today. For you first-years. It’s twenty laps around the track in under fourty-five minutes.”
Twenty laps? Ten miles? In under fourty-five minutes???
I felt my stomach bile rise up to my throat.
I ran in high school.
I was a decent short distance runner. The mile was my bread and butter. I’d never run more than five miles let alone ten. I looked around to see if anyone else looked panicked. No one seemed phased. I turned back to Coach. He caught my eye and saw the panic on my face.
“Now, if you don’t get twenty,” he said. “Ya won’t get kicked out. But you will have to take supplementary training until you can pass. The ideal is twenty but if you can get fifteen, you won’t have to do supplementary training. Shoot for twenty. Be fine with above fifteen. Got it?”
Everyone around me nodded. Fifteen. I could do fifteen laps. That was seven and a half miles. Only two and a half more than my max. Entirely achievable.
Coach had everyone line up on the track. It was wide enough that we were in lines of three. In front of me was a woman with white-blonde hair and shiny purple eyes. In front of her was a woman I hadn’t met yet. The blonde-haired woman slowly turned around and gave me a half smile before whispering a good luck under her breath. With that, Coach’s whistle went off and we were off.
Everyone in front of me took off at breakneck pace. I stuttered to start, shocked by the fact that someone had actually been nice to me. I tried to keep up but felt my lungs straining so I returned to the same rhythm I’d learned in high school.
Right, left, right, left.
It was easy falling back into the mechanics of running. It had been my escape in high school. In track, there was no orphans or parentless kids. It was you and the red track. You were measured by how fast you could go. And I could go fast.
I was peeling around my tenth lap as coach yelled ten minutes left. I pushed my legs harder. Five laps in ten minutes. It wasn’t undoable. I felt my legs beginning to die as I went harder and harder. I hit the corner of my fourteenth lap and broke into a sprint. I had no clue how much time was left but I knew I had to prove myself.
I flew by the crowd of finished wolves, pumping my arms and legs harder. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck as I repeated my mantra.
Prove it. Prove it. Prove to them you are worthy of being here!
I crossed the midway point of the lap when my soul was crushed. Coach’s whistle blew across the track and burned into my ears.
“Time up!” he shouted. “Smith!” he called my human last name and I stopped, keeled over, choking on my lungs. “You’re in supplementary!”
I walked back across the track and stood next to the woman with the white-blonde hair. She gave me a small, sad smile.
“That was really impressive,” she said quietly. “Normally wolfless don’t make it past ten laps.”
“Thanks,” I choked out. “Did anyone else miss it?”
She bit her lip and it immediately answered my question. Great. I groaned and slumped down to the ground.
A foot kicked at my heel and swiped it out from under me, causing me to topple over. I glared up at my assailant. It was, of course, Maximus.
“Only one this year to not finish the run,” he taunted. “And she’s wolfless. You can’t tell me it isn’t because of that.”
I pushed myself up and stood with my chest proud. “I’m wolfless but I still was close enough to almost beat your stupid run.”
“Almost,” Maximus repeated me with a smug smirk. “As in didn’t.” He chuckled and turned away from me.
“God,” I hissed. “I hate him.”
“He certainly doesn’t like you,” The blonde girl mused.
I groaned and ran a hand over my face. “Thanks,” I said. Maybe it’s because he knows you’re the Luna heir? The tiny voice in the back of my head said.
