Tigers In Us

Blayze is pathetic when it comes to sports. At his school sports matter, not grades. This was never a problem until he is saved, from a routine fight. Then it's a problem.


4. chapter 4

When I got to school the next day I was calm.  The door open when I walked in and it jumped to me that this was weird.  Nevermind I ordered myself.

As I walked I raised my head up, I had a chance.  One of the gang member came down the hall towards me.  He was notorious for carrying knife in his back pockets.  I looked him in the eye tried to make myself definite.  His hand reached towards his pocket.  I walked towards him faster.  He tensed and moved around me.

I grinded and with a wild whoop, ran down the hall.


“I saw that,” said Kimball.

I jumped.

“The gang member,” instead Kimball.

“Ummm,” I said intelligently.

“Don’t do something like that again,” ordered Kimball.

“Are you stalking me?” I asked, silently cursing stupid fear.

“What! No, I just see things” she said.

“Ok so let’s paint,” I said willing to drop it.

“Let’s,” said Kimball walking into the room like nothing had happened.

Midway through class Kimball nudged me.

I glared at her.

“Go out into the hall and out of sight if the door’s opened,” she whispered.

I decided not to argue and did as told.

Five minutes later Kimball found me.  “Well,” I asked.

“Get on the ball of your foot,” ordered Kimball.

“Why?” I asked.

“Blazer,” she said sharply.

I did as I was asked.  I feel on the first try.  Kimball helped me up and said, “again”.

I did it.  My balance was still off.  

“This is impossible!” I exclaimed five minutes later.

Kimball did it.

I scowled and tried again.  This time when I lost balance I managed to step forward and catch myself.

Kimball clapped in what sounded sarcastic.

I looked at her.

“Now I need a piggyback ride,” she said.

I turned around.

Kimball jumped on and I almost fell.

I took a step and almost dropped to the side.

I could hear Kimball snickering.

“Bet you bad at this too,” I retorted to it.

“Was,” corrected Kimball.

I kept walking or rather stumbling.

Kimball was merciless when it came to my tiredness.  When I was panting super hard and could no longer feel my legs she jumped off.  Faster than I could blink she was in front of me.

I squatted then sat.  Kimball walked back to the Art room.

Had this just been a trick to humiliate me, or had I somehow failed?

Nether it seemed as Kimball came back a minute later with a water bottle.  I took it was drained the entire thing and stood up.

Kimball pulled a pen out of her pocket and shot it forward towards me yelling, “react”.

I froze.  The pen stopped an inch from me.

“What was that for,” I said hotly.

“Reaction time,” replied Kimball simply.

I wanted to retort an insult to the annoyingness of this but Kimball kept going barely giving me time to process.  It was extremely tiring.


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