Thank god they built showers near the girls' locker room. It took me only three minutes to remove the sticky sauce from my hair. Not to mention the black greasy juice that made my face looked like disgusting chocolate. But it felt good to wash all that stuff off me.

Boy, I couldn't stop eating the chicken, pork chops, and burgers. None of them forced my tummy to throw up on the lunch table. Somehow I became addicted to animal flesh while veggies and fruits made me sick. Did I eat something that totally mutated my diet?

I should check the nurse to examine me, but I got no time for that. My P. E class was already starting outside, and Coach Hogan hated late students. If you're late, he will order you to do one hundred push-ups or one hundred laps around the field. That was how hardcore he was.

I turned off the shower nasal and stepped out with a towel, drying myself off. There were no other girls inside the locker room. Probably they were all outside already.

Damn, I gotta move outside now!

With a white shirt and skinny blue shorts on, I raced through the hallway, meeting the others on the football field. We lined up when Coach Hogan blew his whistle.

“Alright, you little snappers!” he shouted like a lion. “Today you will run a mile!”

“But I can’t do that!” a fat kid shouted.

“My feet will get snores!” a tall girl shouted.

I giggled.

Talk about total lame-Os! Running a one-quarter-mile track was a piece of cake for me. With years of cardio and cheerleading practice, I could run for like forever.

“Stop weeping like crybabies!” Coach Hogan shouted. “Life will be hard on you if you don’t stay in shape. Remember, fatties lose and drools! If you don’t want to be a fatty, then burn the calories now!”

We followed the coach toward the track around the field. Hogan held up his clipboard and stared at it. “I wrote a list of who will go next by each turn. You will run around here as I time you. Run as fast as you can. It doesn’t matter how fast you move, but if you move too slow, I will consider you a fatso.”

I snorted out a giggle.

Coach Hogan glared a sharp look at me. “I’m serious! I want you to run as fast as you can! Got it?”

The other students nodded with frowns on their faces. I was the only one smiling with my full confidence. Like why should I act pathetic like them too? I'm a cheerleader. Heeheehee.

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Patrick went first. He walked to the track and faced the path.

Hogan clicked his stopwatch. "Go!"

Patrick took off, but he didn't run too long. Halfway around, he wobbled while sweating like a pig. He kept breathing hard, as if he was going to have a heart attack.

Wow, if he totally died on the field, it would be his own fault. Eating too many donuts wasn't the best protein to keep you running, fatso.

He collapsed to the ground before he reached Hogan.

Then our coach checked his stopwatch. “You’re a fatty, Patrick! Get back with the group."

Geez, the coach was totally mean. Maybe he thought being aggressive motivated us to work harder to improve our physical fitness routine. But calling Patrick a fatty only encouraged him to sit on the bench and cry like a baby, as if his life was totally over. Yeah, he was pathetic, but at least give him some slack if you wanted him to get healthy!

"Chelsea, you are up!" Hogan shouted.

Uh, Chelsea totally made me jealous. She has long legs that could make a gazelle feel ashamed of itself. She was athletic like me, but she was no cheerleader. I wouldn't be surprised if running around the neighborhood was her hobby.

She stepped onto the track and sprinted around the track. My god, she was fast. Like if there a truck was chasing her, she could outrun it.

I admitted her improved stamina totally impressed me. Still, I could totally outmaneuver her ass.

Heeheehee.

Chelsea stopped near Hogan as he clicked his stopwatch.

“Way to go, Chelsea," he said, grinning like he found the perfect runner in his class. "You did better than fatso Patrick.”

Patrick sobbed.

Jesus Christ, Hogan! This wasn’t a freaking boot camp!

“Okay, Jessica! You are up next!” Coach Hogan shouted.

I grinned while stepping to the track, rubbing my hands, and kneeled with one knee up to run. I raced a couple of track meets before I took up cheerleading. I should totally be in good shape for this.

"Go!" Hogan shouted.

I sprinted the moment he shouted at me to go. While running, everything around me seemed to blur into stretching colors. My hands touched the ground, although my feet kept charging. None of my muscles burned or even a drop of sweat fell off my face. But the air sure blew through my face like I was running through a wind tunnel.

After I stopped near the coach, I got up and brushed myself off. “Pfff! How did I do?”

Coach Hogan’s mouth was hanging wide open. Even the others stared at me as if I was a freaking ghost.

“Hello!” I shouted.

Hogan shook his head. “Oh-sorry! I forgot to stop the time. Can you please do your run again?”

Really? How annoying, but one more lap won’t kill me.

I rolled my eyes and returned to my sprinting position.

“Go!” Hogan shouted.

Like last time, I sprinted around the track before I immediately noticed I was back standing next to the coach.

God, that was fast!

It was like I jumped through time without even realizing it.

“Wow, Jessica!” Hogan shouted after he stopped his stopwatch. “You ran faster than the Road Runner from Looney Tunes!”

I wasn’t sure if I should be scared or proud of myself.