Ken started to walk to the middle of the field but paused when he realised that Max had not been shot.

Max paused as did the coach who remained running in place right next to him.

Gilbert: Since you're new, I've decided to make things interesting for ya.

Max: Huh?

Gilbert: I want you to continue running this track. And if I overtake you even once, you're done.

Max: But...

The coach, without further elaboration, continued his run.

There Max remained. Shocked and confused. He did not believe his luck. His legs were in so much pain that he could barely feel them. Just what was he supposed to do?

Ken: Hey, Max. Move!

The coach was already on his way to him.

Ken: Trust me, you don't wanna get caught.

Max looked at Ken in disbelief. He couldn't, could he?

Max started with a weak jog as Ken settled in the centre to do his push-ups next to the girls.

Tiffany was doing ok, but Rose was doing horribly.

Rose: K.. Ken?

Tiffany: Keep your mouth shut. Don't waste your energy. Ken?

Ken: Likely Vince's doing.

Tiffany: And...

Ken: He's probably screwed.

Max bit his tongue as he continued. Could it really be that bad if he failed?

What could possibly be worse than what he was feeling then? His legs felt like noodles, his mouth was dry, and his feet were on fire.

8th lap.

The intrusive thoughts got worse. Why should he be doing this? More and more students were being caught. One by the other.

There were only a handful of students left running, and Max felt that he was at his absolute limit. The coach was gaining on him, and his legs were on fire. Just how bad could it really be?

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It was then that Luke and Vince passed him again.

Vince: Good luck, loser!

Vince smacked the top of his head, and Max almost fell.

Luke: Hey!

Vince: (sarcastically) Sorry!

Luke stopped, and Vince continued.

Max remained with his hands on his knees, panting.

Luke: Look, Max, I know we're not really close friends, but I can tell you from experience, it'll hurt a lot worse if you get caught.

Max: Huh?

Luke: Trust me, you don't want to get caught.

Max: (panting) Easy for you to say, you're... you're...

Luke: I wasn't always this strong. So get up and move.

Max hesitated.

Luke: He'll be here soon. Get up, or else.

Luke started to jog in place.

Luke: Hey, come on. I thought you were a fighter.

Max looked at Luke for a moment. He looked serious. Luke started to jog off while Max started to follow after him.

Whatever it was, Luke was trying to keep him from it, so it must be really bad, he thought.

But there was yet another reason he chose to keep on running.

He got up and started running again.

Luke: That's more like it.

Luke turned and ran to catch up with Vince, who was waiting for Luke several metres away.

Vince: You done peptalking the scrub.

Luke: Yeah, yeah. I'm done.

The pair stared down the finish line. It was their final lap after all.

Vince: Wanna go all in?

Luke: Yeah.

Vince: Hmph.

The pair started and ran at their top speed to the end of the pitch.

Vince won just barely.

Vince: Booyah.

Luke: Man!

Vince: Haha!

Luke: Good job, good job. I'll get you next time.

The pair laughed before Max rushed right past them both.

Vince noticed Max glaring right at him as he passed them.

Vince: Tch. That guy.....

Moments later, the coach passed them as well.

At that moment, it was Max, a few other jocks and the coach on the field. Max had two and a half more laps to run, and his feet were killing him. He almost tripped multiple times, but he was motivated. Motivated to stick it to Vince.

9th lap.

The coach was only moments away from him.

Ken and Tiffany kept their eyes on him as he continued.

Tiffany: You think he can do it?

Ken: We'll see. He is full of surprises.

Tiffany: (thinking: Just what on earth did you tell him, Luke?)

10th lap.

Endorphins were in Max's body, giving him the break from pain he needed to keep himself running faster.

He knew full well he would be in hell if the coach caught him. But even more, he had another reason.

The coach unloaded his paintball gun.

He was mere seconds behind Max.

Max forced himself to just keep going irregardless. He was halfway there. The pain was kicking in quickly. He and the coach were the only ones left on the pitch.

His throat was completely dry, and his feet were in pain he could not believe.

Three-quarters way.

Luke: Come on, Max. Move!

The students on the seats, as well as the ones doing pushups, watched him intently. Could he actually do it?

The coach put his paintball gun out. It was just about at his back. Mere moments away from it.

Max pushed himself once more. Vince and Luke were at the very end. Both waiting.

The white line was within reach. But at that point, the coach had stuck the gun to his back.

Gilbert: Hey, get a move on or...

Max simply dropped on the ground like a fly, much to the coach's confusion.

He hadn't been paying attention to the field. Max had just crossed the finish line.

And there he remained, on his knees, panting, looking defiantly at Vince, his real target.

Gilbert: Well, now. You actually did it.