I groan as my friends and I finish up our laps. The coach is sat reading a comic book and I roll my eyes at how lazy he is for someone who's teaching us how to keep fit. I turn to Logan, who is also annoyed by it, and keep running. I'm just glad that I'm not suffering as much as the rest of our friends, who are all running along behind us with heavy breaths.

A whistle blows, and I glare at the coach. "Come on, pick up the pace! This ain't a stroll through grandma's blueberry patch!"

"Who even has a blueberry patch?" I ask, and Logan just shakes his head. We're beginning to grow tired, and I wish so badly that I didn't have to do this.

"You know what's worse than running laps?" I hear Zoey ask.

"I don't know," Chase says, "what?"

"I was hoping you could think of something."

The coach continues to harass us, "pick up the pace!" He blows his whistle again, "get up! This ain't the nap shack." I briefly turn to see Michael has collapsed on the floor, and Chase is helping him up.

We all come to a stop, and he blows his whistle again. Michael returns to the floor, and I stand as still as I can, focusing on my breaths and hoping to cool off.

"I miss the pool," I groan, thinking of the cool water and the nice coach who doesn't blow a whistle in your face when you're struggling.

"Good grief, you kids are lame! I mean, look at you, all sweaty and out of breath. Hey, you know why you don't see me all sweaty and out of breath?" He asks.

"Because you've been sitting in a chair reading a comic book?" Chase asks.

"Under an umbrella," I add, unable to keep the anger out of my voice as the full force of the sun makes me sweat through my shirt.

"All right, Matthews, Keller, you just bought yourselves and extra lap."

I huff a laugh and get right to it, but Chase tries to be clever, "can I return it?"

"No!"

I keep running, and make my way back to the group, spotting Nicole throwing up on the side of the track. The group begin running and I go over to the coach.

"What are they doing?" I ask him.

He blows his whistle in my face, "two more laps! Go!" He blows the whistle again and I begin running, anger fuelling it now.

The class ends and we change into our normal clothes, all of us heading back to school together. The others are all super sore, and I know I would be too if I wasn't used to exercising regularly.

"I'm so sore from all that running," Zoey says, taking a seat at our table.

"I feel like one giant bruise," Nicole says, and I laugh, taking a drink of my water.

"I feel okay," Chase says, and I raise an eyebrow at him, and his clear limp. "As long as I don't move or breathe," he finishes, and I laugh again. He breathes in, "yeah, ow that hurts!"

"Don't you guys play basketball?" I ask, knowing that Logan was also mostly okay after the run, and he does the same sport as Zoey and Chase.

"Ow, leg cramp, leg cramp," Nicole whines, sitting.

"Sure we do, but that was so much worse," Chase groans, and I pat his shoulder, gently.

"I cannot go back to gym class! A girl can only run and vomit so much, you know?" Nicole tells us, and I grimace.

"Why did basketball season have to end?" Dana asks. I frown.

"What?"

"Yeah, what do you mean?" Nicole asks, and we look at the others for help.

"When you're on an official PCA sports team, you don't have to take gym," Chase explains.

"Wait, I'm sorry, you're saying that I could've not been doing those classes, this whole time?" I angry take a second drink of water, my hatred for the gym teacher getting stronger.

"Yeah, speaking of, I'm surprised you're not on the swim team, Harper," Chase says.

"Well, if I'd known about the rule I would've been," I moan, and he looks smugly at me.

"Why didn't you join the team earlier?" Dana asks me, and then, "are you even a good swimmer?"

I roll my eyes, "I'm a great swimmer, I've won too many gold medals to count, but the team here was full of boys when we started, and I didn't feel that comfortable with it. I suppose I could try again, if the coach would let me."

"I wish I played a sport, so I can get out of gym," Nicole says, wistfully.

"You know what, that's not such a bad idea," Zoey says, and we look at her. "Why don't we all just join another sports team?"

"What," I ask, "you think there's some easy sport we can just master?"

"No," Nicole says, immediately, "sports hurt."

"More than laps?" I ask, and she frowns in confusion, clearly thinking about how awful today was.

"Not all of them hurt," Chase says, from the drinks cart. "I mean, we could pick some cushy sports team. Then, no more gym."

"So, no more running laps," Zoey says.

"Well, that's great for you guys, but I stink at sports!"

"Yeah, for once, she's right," Dana says.

Zoey rolls her eyes, "oh, come on, Nicole, there has to be some sport you can play."

"No, there's not, you guys just go ahead and join some team. I'll be fine, in gym class, running and puking." She grabs at her leg, "ow, my calf is throbbing!"

"Oh, come on guys, I say we find a sport that Nicole can play, then we join that team, and then no more gym!" Chase tells us, and I point at him.

"What about golf?" He looks at my serious face and menacing finger.

"What about golf?" He asks, and I slam my palms onto the table.

"Golf can't be that difficult, it's just hitting a ball with a stick. Besides, mini golf is easy enough, golf golf should be too, right?"

"No," Chase says, shaking his head, "I've seen golf golf, it's harder than it looks."

"Right, then we find a different sport," I say, determinedly. I then think this through and change my mind, "actually, I'll stick with the swim team."

"Right, let's do it now," Zoey says, and we all stand. Or at least, I do and they all groan as their muscles protest the action. "Or later."

I go to the pool while they wait out their pain, and ask the swim coach if there is still a place for me on the team. He tells me that I can start anytime this week, so I run back to my room, grab my things, and go to the practice that's happening after classes. Just like that, I don't have to do gym. When we are due to have the next gym class, I go with the others to inform our teacher of the change.

He's once again sitting under his umbrella covered chair, with a comic book in hand. He blows his whistle and shouts and the runners.

"Hey coach," Dana says, as we get near him. Zoey has a note about their discgolf team, which is apparently a thing, and I have my own from the swim coach.

"You're late," he tells us, "now get to running."

"Sorry, coach, but we just came by to tell you we won't be running laps anymore," Zoey tells him.

"What in the name of captain pike are you talking about?" The coach asks.

"Who's captain pike?" I ask, and then realise Logan isn't there, and I've just whispered to nothing.

"Well," Zoey says, cheerfully, "you happen to be looking at four new members of PCA's new official discgolf team."

"Disc golf?" He asks, reacting about the same as I had. He then burst out laughing, which I had'nt done. "Disc golf! Disc gol- that ain't a sport, huh? What do you think I am? Some kind of tuna melt?"

"No," Chase says, slowly, "but according to Dean Rivers, disc golf is now an official PCA sport."

"See, he signed the form and everything!" Zoey shows the paper she has, and I hand mine over when he's finished reading it.

He scoffs, "official pet- petata-"

"Petition?" Zoey says, confused.

"Petition," he says, snidely, "to make disc golf a ker- kerfee-"

"Certified," she helps out, again.

"Certified sport. I better go check this out with the dean myself," he says.

"I'm on the swim team now," I say, simply, pushing my note into his hand before he can leave. He huffs and pulls out his whistle.

"Come on, run, people, run!" He blows the whistle and I groan, exhausted by the conversation.

"Tuna melt?" Zoey asks, and Chase shrugs, while I can't even be bothered to respond.

The others go off to play disc golf, and I head to swim practice. I'm having to catch up, since I've only been swimming twice a week and without a coach.

"Good work, Keller," the swim coach tells me, on the way out, and I grin. The change in attitude between him and the gym coach is so worth being on a team of stupid boys. Although, I do have three other girls as my teammates.

I meet up with Logan after practice, and head to find the others at their disc golf practice. There's a lot of discs on the floor, and as we approach I see Michael collapse. "Yeah, that looks good," Logan laughs, as I had suggested the group would be fine, and I nudge him, hoping he will be more supportive to their faces.

Michael gets up and begins walking as if he's possessed. We get out of his way and watch him, strangely. "What did you do to Michael?" I ask.

"Quinn made him healthy chips to replace the ones he was addicted to but they make him dizzy," Chase explains, and I gawk at the stumbling boy. I plan to confront Quinn about this, if he doesn't.

"Hey, look, it's PCA's cute little disc golf team," Logan says, and I stare blankly at him until he stops trying to get a reaction from me.

"Not the time, Logan," Zoey says, grumpily.

"Coach says you guys will be back in gym class by the end of next week!"

"You know, it's weird, but you're not making us feel better," Chase says.

"I swear I thought he'd play nice," I tell them, getting annoyed by the bag strap digging into my shoulder.

"Yeah, why is he even here, anyway?" Nicole asks.

"So you can beg me to be on your team," he acts out, hand on his chest. He lines himself up in front of them and tosses a disc straight into the basket. "Hole in one, or in disc golf, I believe they call it an ace," he says, showing off his skill in the sport. "Well, see ya."

He begins walking away. "He actually would be a good teammate, and as annoying as he can be, he's not that bad when he's winning." I turn and leave, seeing him waiting for me a little bit away.

"They'll be fools not to have me," he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and speaking grandly.

"Yeah, yeah." We walk in silence and then I get an idea, smirking, "how about a race? First one to the fountain buys us both slushies?"

He thinks about it, "deal." We shake hands and begin running, laughing as we try to sabotage each other.