poetry

7/8

7 hurried down the hall

to the volleyball practice she

knew was starting now without her

because she had to stay after

class in physics to ask for

help on her extra credit work.

The extra points were needless

to her grade, but she wanted to

excell. Everything could be

hers if she tried hard enough – class

valedictorian, team

captain of the volleyball squad,

first trumpet in the high school

band, solo in the new choir

number – she could do it all.

She ran passed the computer room

on her way to the gym and

peeked inside, knowing exactly

who she would see inside. 8

was lounging there as usual,

watching soccer games as he

would stuff his face with those greasy

chips he somehow enjoyed while

cheering for plays that he could be

making himself at practice,

which 7 knew started about

an hour ago. She didn’t

know how he could do that to his

team and his coach and himself.

7 shook her head, speeding her

steps toward her commitment.

Even if she was tired and sore,

she said she would and she kept

her word, even if people like

8 decided to lay back

and take it easy, she wouldn’t.

Those words were her motto when

she was hurting and wanting to

give up, that idea gave her

the drive to push forward as

she always did, just like she

was then, running to her next task.

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