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.

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5. chapter 5

A few days later Kimball publicly lead me out.  The class giggled when I blushed.  In the hall I said, “They think we are dating”.

“Let them,” She answered.

“Another Piggyback,” I asked.

“Yup,” she replied then added, “this time run the hallway”.

“Why?” I par complained par asked as Kimball jumped on my back.

“Just do it,” she snapped.

I did.  Nothing had ever seemed easier, but now I had the feeling there was a harder thing in store.

“My turn,” said Kimball with a grin.

I jumped on.

Kimball not only ran the hall but zig zaged it as well.

We were halfway down, when she fell, then swore.

I got off and helped her up.  

“Thanks,” she said.

We looked at each other in a awkward silence.  Heat rouse to my face, what the heck I told myself.

“So, can we get started?” I asked.

“Oh, sure,” she said, then resumed her command and ordered, “balls of your feet and jump to the side”.

I started to do defencive slides like basketball drills.

Kimball started to laugh.

I was probably doing this wrong, so I tryed standing up stragt and doing it.

“There!” exclaimed Kimball.

I gave her a blank look.

“You got it now circle me,” she said.

I shifted my shoulder forward and did it.

After a while Kimball galnced at her watch.  “Oh crud,” she she said.

“What?’’ I asked.

“It’s time to go, come on,” she said rushing off.  I hurried after her.

“What do the two of you do out there?” asked the art teacher suspiciously.

Kimball jumped to the balls of her feet and froze up.

I quickly let an answer slide out of my mouth.  “The first day when I walked out, I was drawing alone and since it’s become just us drawing, it’s nice,” I said.

“Awh the two shy artist, well I got no complaint,” said the teacher.

 

Outside Kimball said, “that was amazing”.

I nodded.  

“What’s on your mind?” inquired Kimball.

“Why...why do you help me,” I asked.

“Just,” she started then thought better of whatever she wanted to say because she added, “because”.

“I get it,” said softly.

Kimball looked at me with so much emotion clouded in her eyes, confusion, hope, joy and a tiny amount of sorrow.

We could have stood there trying to understand each other.  A horn honked somewhere.

Kimball looked away and ran towards it.  That left me here alone.  When my Dad finally got there he was full of sorrys.

“Dad!” I yelled cutting him off.

Silence.

“I get it ok, stuff happens,” I apologized.

My Dad nodded and when back to driving.

“So why are you in such a good mood?” asked Dad with a hint of tease.

“Painting is fun,” I replied.  Guilt washed over me.  How could I lie like this.  Why did emoticon have to make you want to throw up sometimes?

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