In gym we did laps around the track again, and again I started falling behind. Ludwig slowed his pace to be next to me.
"Feliciano, come on now," he said impatiently. "You can do it."
"I still . . . don't like running . . ." I gasped. I sat down on the grassy field. "Leave me behind . . . keep going . . ."
He tapped my head. "Don't be so dramatic. Get up."
"No . . ."
He grabbed my arms and quickly stood me up.
"Hey!"
"If you don't run, you'll get points taken off." He started running again, leaving me behind.
"Don't leave me," I cried, running after him until I had caught up.
"See, you can run."
"Oh . . ." I gasped, slowing down again. "So tired . . ."
"Feliciano!"
About halfway through class we stopped doing laps and were allowed to hang around and chat with people. I flopped onto the grass and stared up at the sky. Then I saw Ludwig appear over me, staring down.
"Hi," I said, gasping for air.
He sat down next to me. "You realize that we were running for only about half an hour, right?"
"But it felt like so long," I complained.
"If you exercised more, you'd be stronger," he said sternly.
"I'd rather drive places," I said.
"I got my license a while ago," he said, "but I didn't know you had yours . . ."
"I don't," I replied cheerfully. "I've taken the test about five times but I keep failing it."
". . . Why?"
"'cause I keep going over the speed limit. I'm gonna try again in a week."
He looked up and sighed.
"Hey," I said, remembering. "Did you find the girl you like yet?"
He looked down now. "No. I just . . . I haven't had any luck at all. I wish I had enough money to hire a detective."
"Ooh, that'd be cool!" I said. "Detectives are really smart! Last night Eliza and I watched Sherlock when stepfather was out! I didn't really get everything that he was saying but it sounded cool!"
He stared at me.
"What?"
In Computer Graphics, Mr. Wang told us all that for a few days we were gonna design a logo. He said that it could be for anything we wanted and then he told us to get to work, took out a book, and started reading.
"Fuckin' lazy teacher," Gil mumbled. He pulled out a copy of the tutorial book and started skimming the contents.
"I'm gonna make my own logo," Al said, pulling up Photoshop.
"Yeah, that's the assignment, idiot," Gil said, smirking.
"I mean—I'm gonna make up something to make a logo for!" Al said. "I'm, like, not gonna use something that's already a thing, like Burger Lord or Scarlet Finch!"
"Whatever," Gil said, putting down the book and opening the program.
Al scowled. "Whatever . . . your face. Feli, what're you gonna do?"
"I dunno," I said, shrugging. "We have a few days, so maybe we don't have to do it right away . . ."
"Hey, yeah!" Gil said, pushing his keyboard away.
"Awesome!" Al exclaimed, closing the program. "Let's just party back here!"
"I brought beer," Gil said cheerfully, pulling out a cardboard box from his backpack. He handed me and Al a can each.
"Isn't alcohol not allowed?" I asked.
"No, wait, this is root beer," Al said, examining his can and laughing.
Gil snickered. "Yeah, but it's still good."
"Hey!" Mr. Wang called, looking over his book. "You three, no drinks in the computer lab!"
Gil scowled and shoved the cans back in his backpack. Al and I put ours away too.
"Stupid rule," Gil muttered. "Not gonna spill it or anything."
"I guess food is out too," Al sighed.
Gil rolled his eyes. "Well, you eat so quickly I doubt he'd notice before it was gone."
Al blinked. "Quickly?"
"Never mind."