ONE SHOT. Two part.
Adult content coming soon. Characters belong to Grey's Anatomy and the writers, for the most part.
Callie's POV
Sitting in the back of the bus traveling hours across states kinda gets old. Don't get me wrong, I love the sport. I just don't love the traveling and the no sleep that comes along with it. I have a job, I go to school, I got to practices and I go to track meets. That leaves very little room for a social life. My best friends are my teammates. We go to school together, train together and compete together. It's hard not to become friends. One such friend is Aaliyah, she got me up this morning. Hell, she's the reason I'm here today. She woke me up, brought me food and drove me to campus. We arrived a little late because of me. I'm grateful to have her and well, this team in my life. Honestly, track and field s what is paying my way through college. I sorta have to stay on this team f I would like to continue having an education at St. Agustus University.
It's only seven a.m and we've already been on the road for three hours. I am beyond tired. Everyone else is asleep. Coach and I are the only ones awake. I think it's good to stay up with the driver. It helps them stay awake. The driver staying awake keeps us alive. It's funny because keeping coach company is the assistant coach's job, even he's asleep. It's early, I get it.
Aaliyah's sound asleep on my shoulders, offering light snores. I feel bad in that every few minutes, I strike up a mini conversation with the coach. I'm trying to make sure he's up. It's for the good of the whole team. I'm sorry if I'm disturbing her sleep.
She mumbles, "Callie, knock it off." I can barely hear her but I'm pretty sure that's what she's saying.
"Knock what off?" I feign ignorance.
"Quit the talking."
"Okay, I'll move." I make an effort to get up and sit elsewhere, but she pulls me back to a seated position by my arm. Ouch. She's a thrower, like me, she is strong.
"No, just keep it down." This time she's a lot clearer. I mean I'm not sure how I'll keep down a conversation that I'm having with a person who is several seats in front of me, but I guess I'll try. Her tired brain isn't making much sense.
Well, we're here. It's a very day nice in Virginia; it took us seven hours to get here. The drive was rough but I can appreciate good weather for outdoor meets. A lot of times, it's cold. Not today, It's warm and I'm going to take advantage of the warm weather. We have a small meeting on the bus before we are allowed to disperse. We're told the times and place for our individual events and given a warm-up schedule.
Aaliyah and the rest of the throwing team join me in our warm-up routine. We do five laps around the field. Aaliyah leads the pack as she's the captain of the throwing team. Then some stretches. We don't have much time before our events begin so we forego the rest of coach's instructions. Aaliyah and I quickly head over to some officials to weigh in our implements. They have to weigh the things we're going to be throwing to make sure they are up to standards.
Men's shot put is up first. We join them by the circle to cheer them on. Alex is up first. He throws 11.36 meters. That wasn't his best throw. It was a good one nonetheless. Either way, we cheer him on. Mark is the next one that's up from our team.
"Let's go, Mark!"
"Let's get it!"
He laughs confidently before throwing a 16 point something. I didn't hear the decimal as my team's shouting blocked it out.
The track events have also started. On the track now is the women's 3,000-meter run. We've got Meredith and Lexie in that race. They're a sister duo who dominate the distance events at our school. Let's see how they match up against these girls today.
Cheering on distance runners is always hard because they lap the field so many times. Trust me encouraging them to run faster each time they get close to you is tiring in itself. On the last two laps is when I join in.
Women's discus is my favorite and all-out best event. I'm the best of the women's team at discus. All the women on my team are up before me. Usually, we're placed in a line bassed the order of our best throws of the season so far. There are only two girls behind me in line. I'm among the best here too.
My first teammate throws and she makes a personal record. I watched her practice throws and she seemed in better form. I'm so proud at this moment. In celebration, she jumps at and wraps her arms around me. Her warm sweaty body all over me. I don't care though, I'm just so happy for her. I showed her a few pointers and she's followed. When one of us wins, we all win.
Aaliyah throws just under her usual 46 meters. When it's my turn, I'm a little nervous. I have to prove that I'm at least the third best out of the twenty girls here. I start my spin but don't end up in the right postion by the end of it. I didn't land right. I didn't maximize the throw so I get a measly 29 meters. I'm not proud of me right now.
The girls who were behind me prove themselves. They throw upwards of 50 meters. I, I mean wow. I've never hit 50 meters before.
Jade, the first of my team who is up throwing again, and another personal record. Man is she killing it! I may not be doing so great but I'm still happy for my team. If Jade keeps improving she'll be on the best if not the best on our team in no time. She's only a freshman and a new thrower so yea, give her a few more years and she'dd do it. Aaliyah throws a 43 and we cheer. That's the best one of any of us so far.
Okay, it's me again. I'm up and I've got to do better. When I let go of the discus, it lands into the net. Fuck.
"Ugh, why can't I get this shit right!" is my sentiment as I leave the circle. I didn't even go to retrieve my implement. Aaliyah goes to get it instead.
I lean against the fence on the field. I wipe some sweat off my forehead. I'm just now noticing how green the grass is on this field. I focus on the ground beneath me. My friend comes and hands me my discus.
Placing her hand on my back, she says, "You can't get defeated, Callie. You're great. We all know that even the officials they know that. Take a few breaths and get back in there." She gives me a pat on the back then takes her hand off me altogether. Is there even a question as to why she's captain?
As she steps away, I stand back upright. I picture my spin in my head. I tell myself over and over to shift my weight onto my left leg and rotate right foot first.
My girls do what they came here to do and it's my turn again. I get right into the circle, start my spin and let go of the discus. I give it all the power I've got. I feel a little pull on a muscle in my shoulder as I let go of the implement. The official calls out, 52.19 meters." And I can't believe it. Surely they've gotten it wrong. I'm surrounded by a small crowd of about twenty people. All the throwers are hugging me right now. We're all in shock and celebration. The pain in my shoulder has set in. They've also indirectly and unintentionally been beating on my shoulder. I only got second place today, I wonder what they would do if I got first.
After all the celebration I announce, "So I'm gonna go see the trainers, I think I pulled something." Some girls offer to come with me but I remind them that they have other events to do.
The male trainer gets to massaging my shoulder. He pushes deep into the tissue there and I audibly wince a little. He eases up the pressure.
"How'd you do today?" he politely asks.
"Pretty good. I threw a 52 today. At least I didn't get hurt for nothing." I shrug a bit quickly realizing that I shouldn't have as even that hurts.
A voice pops out from the right of me. A preppy, "52 what? Meters?" comes out of whoever is over there. I raise my body a little just to see who it is. The trainer backs up to let me. The sight stumps me some so I fall back forward. I turn my face to the right.
A blonde girl is who asked. The female trainer is putting tape on her inner thigh. I think my eyes were focused there for a bit too long. I say this because her blue eyes meet and silently scold me. I soon avert my eyes, in a few seconds.
"So are you going to answer me?" She cocks her head in question.
The trainer cuts in to ask another question of his own. "Do we want me to continue the message or would you like some ice now?"
"I'll take the ice now please."
He puts some ice on my shoulder and tells me to hold it. He begins to put plastic wrap around it to hold it in place. They've just called for the women's 400 meters and the blond girl hops off the table. She thanks the trainer and heads off int he direction of the starting line. She runs so daintily, I'd like to see her in this race. The guy trainer finishes up with me advising that I throw anything else for the remainder of the meet.
Next, I'm off to tell my coach that I'm hurt. He congratulates me on the throw and says it's fine if I can't throw anything else today. He instructs me to rest my shoulder.
Well, if I can't compete I might as well be a full on cheerleader for the rest of the time.
I head over to the shot put ring, which is conveniently located right by the track. I didn't mention that earlier but it's a super important detail right now. Why? I'm not sure. Okay, that's a lie. I'm excited to see how this inquisitive blonde girl runs. Yes, the fact that she's pretty aids in my interest.
A few of my teammates have run, so cheered.
"Let's go Agustus!" was my default chant.
The starting pistol goes off and this is the race to watch. We're finally up to the fastest heat. I can't see who's in this race just yet. They're a bit too far. I do see that there is about one, maybe two Agustus girls in this race though. I'm ready to encourage them when they do run past me.
When the sprinters make the bend enough for me to see them, I not only recognize that two of us are out there, I see the blue-eyed blonde. I can't exactly see her eyes again, it's her though. I'm so sure. The long strides of her legs, her full physique on display as she pumps her arms. I'm stuck. I don't cheer for anyone. I am only watching one athlete run at this instant. She pulls out into the front of the race. I don't know who is behind her. Right now, I don't even care.
I look on as she crosses the finish line, completing a full lap around the track.
The question about how she runs. Umm, she runs beautifully. I enjoyed the experience of seeing her run. Her own beauty aside she's a tremendous athlete. Something compels me to walk over to the finish line. It wasn't very far from where I was. I hug the people I know. The people I was supposed to be watching. I bid them a "good job," pretending to know whether or not they've even done a good job. The hugs were on one side as my shoulder isn't the best shape. I guess they must have finished the race, so yeah that's a good job.
I stand there for a few minutes more. That gives the blonde time to come over to me. I lost sight of her for some times there. She points at me, "You're kind of rude." She walks away ahead of me answering. I follow up behind her.
"Hey, what do you mean?"
She stops walking and turns around, "You heard me."
I'm offended. "You don't know me." And I don't know you. All I do know is that she goes to the hosting college. She's wearing the uniform
"Whatever, you still haven't answered my question."
"Yea, it's 52 meters."
She smiles, "Yeah, I already knew that. I was making conversation or at least trying. I needed something to say."
"Huh?"
Her pouty pink lips communicate, "You looked, well, good from what I could see so I had to say something. Shooting my shot as they say, right?
Right...She's totally talking about my ass. That's all there was to see in these shorts. Or maybe whatever other exposed skin she could feast her eyes on in this uniform.I can't say I wasn't checking her out all this time. She's got great legs.
I still haven't replied to her. I'm not certain as to how to do that. Listen, I've had no real love life for at least a year and a half. It's not that I forgot how to talk to people, actually, maybe I have.
"So I can't run any more races today. Though it's embarrassing to admit, I'm having groin problems. I overheard the trainer tell you that you also can't compete any more today. I'm going back to my dorm, would you like to come?"
Again, I have no idea how to respond. She's so forward. I-. My answer to her is a shy, "yes." The last thing I want to do is seem uncool.
She gives me a second to go inform Aaliyah about what I'm about to do. Aaliyah's not into my plan. I plead my case about not having a social life and what not. I'm convincing.
Arizona has one of the volunteers to bring us to her dorm, on a golf cart. We played up our injuries enough to make the older lady feel bad enough to drive us.
... I text my friend the name of the residence hall.
There's no question that this blonde girl has talent. Wait, I still don't know her name. The nameless blonde has talent indeed. She has a single dorm. It costs to live alone so I assume either she comes from money or this is her reward for her athleticism.
She guides me through the door and into her fully furnished dorm. Her room is full of personality. There are posters hanging around, most of the same indie looking, band. The walls are white, which is standard for dorm rooms. "Do you just invite strangers back to your dorm during meets?"
"Nope. I thought I'd try with you. Besides what else were you doing?"
She sits on the loveseat in the dorm. She props her feet up.
"If you're going to be like this, I can go back out there, you know. I could go watch my team." I indicate the direction of the track with my thumb.
"I'm sorry," she groans. "This is my first time doing this and I'm all tense and in pain. Don't go."
I change my mind. "I'm sorry about you-uh" I gesture to her area of pain. Her groin.
She nods, accepting my apology.
"I know a few stretches that might be helpful. If you're comfortable."
She nods again.
I add, "get on the bed."
There's going to be a part two. There will only be two parts.
