"Look at him." The drool was practically rolling down her chin, slapping to the ground with the lower half of her mouth. I honestly didn't get it. As I hurried to pack away the sweaty, blue uniform that branded me into the pack that was the girls' Soccer team, I tried to pick apart what made Liam Booker desirable. Liam from my perspective was neither athletic nor intelligent, and his responses in class were meant in snide jests.
Gagging at the musky smell of the locker room, that made the air heavy with the taste of sweat. I swung the packed bag onto my tired limbs, which burned in complaint at the weight. Annabel who was still gawking at her phone and the un-alluring picture of a half dressed, pale, Liam, briefly looked up at me waving a hand in a motion to say good bye.
Already, hours into the first day of the school year, and I can predict that the rest of the year will be uneventful. I managed to still hold the same secure position on the team that I gained last year, this time I even managed to score better than average in the stamina section of try out. The bloated coach, gurgling his appreciation that I didn't fall into a state of lethargy as he crunched down on his second doughnut. The jam squirted out in all directions, the sugar smearing across the stretched features as I ran my seventh lap. No, there was no need to battle for the position of striker. I, Amy Raudenfield, had that in the bag! So, perhaps, that was why I was humming softly, a stupid song I had heard briefly in my Mom's car that morning? After all, through clear evaluation it wasn't the future of what the year at Hester High held for me or the mass text with attachment image of the wrongfully deemed 'hottest' boy. Either way, that soft hum entered my first encounter with Karma Ashcroft.
"Beyonce, right? It sounds like Beyonce. I am Karma, I'm new, well not new exactly, but I just moved here. Am I talking really fast? I tend to do that when I'm nervous. –Not that you make me nervous, I just don't know anyone, and not having friends make me nervous?" The girl in front of me gasped at the end of her sentence, sucking in oxygen with a desperate need. I was relatively stunned, one hand on the cold metal of my locker, the rest of my body angled towards the enthusiastic character. The first thing about Karma, was the way her body seemed to be buzzing with energy and in my tired state; I rejected it. Completely. Eventually, and ever so slowly, my eyes fluttered uncertain, at how to politely respond to a person who seemed to be jumping from one foot to the other in eager anticipation for me to speak. Yet, as my brain began to form a sentence, required to break the awkward tension that was becoming heavy in the air, the eccentric red haired girl spoke again. "Who's that?" Her head swung to greet the figure's rear end, as anger rippled through my system like a tidal wave. The locker door, that had been stationary during the encounter, flung open as my nails scraped against the metal. After I had thrown my soiled soccer uniform into the depth of the blue locker. My eyes met Karma's, and they must have been ridden with hatred as I growled those two words at Karma. "Liam Booker."
She took a rather large step back, I took a rather venomous step forward.
Smacking my lips in displeasure, I walked straight passed her. Our shoulders briefly brushing against one another, allowing me to engulf her gentle aroma. It smelled like summer, mixed with rich spices that made you think of fruit cake and hot chocolate. At least that was what it made me think of. The positive things in my life, like the feeling of the sun on my face and the taste of my favourite food. Those moments I cherished beyond all entered my mind at the simple scent. "Hey, wait!" Karma yelped from behind, the noise of her feet becoming louder as she followed me. I could have out sprinted her, after all, I was the one with the best stamina. However, I didn't, and this wouldn't be a great story if I did.