The cool wind breezed through her hair leaving a messy I-don't-care look, she didn't care, actually she didn't notice. She was running, no it was more like jogging, Megan was a morning jogger, she liked the sound of that. For those of us who don't believe you can tire yourself out from jogging are extremely wrong, anyone from 5 feet away from her could hear her panting like dog, she didn't care, actually she didn't notice.
It had become a morning ritual, get up before having too and running away from your problems, not it was more like running your problems away. Yes, she liked the sound of that.
At this point she was lost, her thoughts non-existent, Megan was somewhere else. The music blasting from her Ipod kept her from coming back to reality. She was sweaty and by the time practice came she'd be tired, she didn't know anyone like her. No one else would volunteer to exhaust themselves before a back-breaking practice with Coach Gunnerson, no one. There was definitely no one like Megan.
It didn't bother her much as it use too, being different that is, she knew she wasn't weird she was just different, different, that's all. It wasn't like she didn't have any friends, quite the opposite; she had plenty of good friends and four who were like her family.
There was Adena, Queen of Pointless Games, the kind of games that Megan refused to play because they were just that, pointless. Everything in her life had to have a point, everything except for running that is, although she tried to tell herself it was for training. Adena would never offer to get herself dirty and sweaty by running, running just wasn't "her thing". But they still got along just fine; they were like sisters, sisters who chose each other. It was a relationship that they both cherished.
She could feel her leg muscles start to clench and grow tighter with every stride she took, she looked at her watch and determined that she'd been running for 1 hour and 5 minutes, 2 more minutes than yesterday, yes she was getting better. She was building up her endurance because in tournaments, like the Hamstead, you need your endurance.
There was Squib, a good friend but nothing more, if they were a family he would probably be her old brother, she wasn't sure why but he definitely wouldn't be the father or the younger brother, ok maybe he would be her little brother, just maybe. He was the school's troublemaker, a marked man, as Cody liked to put it, one wrong move and he was out. He too would never be caught dead running with her, he was more of a wake-up-at-the-last-minute type of guy. Definitely not like Megan.
Her stamina was lowering, she wouldn't be able to keep up this speed for much longer, her feet were growing numb and threatening to stop, but she couldn't stop now, she wouldn't dare. She was going to push her body to the max today, it was time to go into overdrive.
Cody, she was different too. She was the only student at the tennis academy who didn't play tennis, but she managed to fit in despite her rough beginning. She was one of those girls who could keep your attention for hours and get you to spill your deepest darkest secrets, the secrets you swore you'd never tell anyone, the secrets you swore too keep to yourself. She wasn't an athlete though, so she wouldn't even bother to join in on a jog, she preferred to take it slow. Definitely not like Megan.
She took another look at her watch, 20 minutes had passed and she was still running, sure she had slowed down a bit but she was still moving. She knew she'd be late for practice but today it didn't seem to bother her, she was a girl on a mission and Gunnerson would just have too except that. It wasn't as if she was in her dorm slacking off, she was outside, running. The worst he could do was make her do pushups, hardly a punishment. Then again, he might not even do that, he had come to accept her tardiness knowing she doing something valuable with her time.
Then there was Sebastien of course, he was the closest to understanding her. He made a special effort at least once a week to run with her, but after half an hour he would try to start a conversation, finding the silence a little too awkward. He also tried to get them to stop for breaks, and she would only because she liked him. Although, she'd never admit it. But he was still nothing like her.
It was coming to an end, she knew she couldn't keep running, even though she wished she could. She loved the breeze that left her hair in the I-don't-care stage, she loved the way she could make herself pant, she loved the way she could lose herself deeper and deeper with ever step she took. She love the way there was no one else like her. She was Megan, the morning jogger, running away her problems. There was definitely no one like Megan. And she liked the sound of that.