Page 42 of Fractured Fates
“The ‘new’ label or the ‘pig’ one?” He grins at me, although I can tell it’s good natured.
“The pig one’s never going to go, is it?”
He shakes his head. “And my ‘new’ boy label lasted until the next new kid showed up and that was you.” His grin widens. “I am officially no longer the new kid.”
“Congratulations … erm …?”
“Andrew.”
“Rhi,” I tell him. “So do you prefer it here or over in your old school?”
“Actually here. They teach much more practical stuff. We were never really allowed to test our abilities and skills in my old school. Here it’s encouraged.”
For the first time today, a sense of excitement sparks in my stomach. That’s what I want. To test my capabilities. If I’m going to be stuck here, I at least want to find out what I can do.
“I like the sound of that.”
From out of nowhere, the librarian’s voice reaches us. “Quiet, please. This is a library.”
Andrew rolls his eyes and leans closer to whisper. “Nice to meet you, Rhi. See you around.”
Then he gets up and disappears around a bookshelf.
Did I just make a second friend?
I grin to myself and sink back into the chair. Maybe school isn’t so bad after all.
14
Rhi
It is bad.It’s really bad. Because the punishment coach Hank decides to dole out is nothing short of torture. I think he looked at me and found my ultimate physical weakness. Laps of the grounds, sit-ups, press-ups, even burpees. They might hurt like hell but I can give them a try. This. This is dead-on impossible.
Of course, I didn’t realize this at first. He led me over to a rope hanging in the gymnasium and pointed to the ceiling.
“Climb that and ring the bell at the top, then you can leave.”
I thought I’d be back in my dorm after ten minutes. After all, rope climbing would be like tree climbing, right? No problem.
Uh uh. Big problem. Big, big problem.
I can’t do it for shit. I coil my hands around the rough rope and haul myself up, but I only get about a foot off the ground before I slide back down, the fibers burning my palms and my thighs. I try again, gripping harder with my feet and my hands. It makes not a jot of difference. I try jumping for the rope and pulling myself up. But with an agonizing squeal, I just have further to slide back down. I look around the gym searching for help.
Where is the coach? He could have given me some hints on how to do this. There must be a technique I’m not getting right.
I try once more, my arms and legs screaming with pain. They give way and I tumble to the floor, landing splat on my stomach in the most undignified manner possible.
Laughter fills the gym and I lift my head to find both the bouncing bunnies and a group of jocks strolling past.
Fucking great.
“Look,” Summer calls out to her cronies, “it’s pig girl. Is she rooting around for truffles? Oh no, she’s trying to climb the rope. But the poor little pig can’t do it because she has trotters instead of hands.”
Everyone laughs.
I want to retort back but I’m too damn out of breath. She swings her pony tail at me and jogs off with the rest of the cheerleading squad to the corner where they promptly start forming pyramids.
The jocks head off to the opposite corner of the gym where a circuit has been set up. I catch Spencer’s eye as he files past.
