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The sun sits high in the sky. Its bite is harsh. The air carries the scent of chlorine and sunscreen, dampened softly by my mother's roses. The pool is, to my tiny eyes, enormous, and deliciously inviting.

Torture, I think to myself. This is indeed torture. I look down at my knee and curse the bloodstained band-aid that dares to stand between me and that delectably enticing water. The other children, my invites, are not deterred in their quest for fun, splashing and squealing about. I see my misery hasn't stopped them from enjoying the cool water at my expense.

Awed by their innate capacity to rub it in my face, I think back to the event that caused this sorry pickle in which I find myself.

The day before, when the bell sounded for recess, all the students bolted out of their seats and headed for the door. Strangely, one student, by the name of Tommy, did something completely out of character. With his back to the door, he headed my way. "Can I help you carry your books?" he asked falteringly.

My first instinct caused me to scream silently, "Eeeewwwww, boy germs!" But instead, my cheeks flushed a dark crimson as I gushed, "OK!" Rendered mute by fear, we walked toward the lockers. Upon arrival my books were swiftly handed over to me and the boy was gone.

What was that about? I was pondering this question when I noticed some friends waving in my direction. "We're going to play a game, you wanna play?" Their giggles made me suspicious, yet curious enough to accept.

"Sure, what are the rules?"

"Well, you just gotta run away from anyone who is trying to catch you."

"Oh, okay, easy."

We headed to the courtyard. There were more kids waiting there for us. My heart froze over when I saw Tommy standing at the back. He had a look on his face like he was contemplating something very important. Soon, I would learn what.

"On the count of three all the girls run away from all the boys. That's the rule of the game. Clear?" A stout little girl called out.

In unison we cried, "Clear!"

"One ... two ... three!"

All hell broke loose. There was screaming and pushing. A lot of shoving. I ran blindly, stepping on peoples' toes. Mistakenly, I thought I had broken out of the crowd, cleared my way for victory. Then I heard the patter of footsteps eagerly drawing near my back. Soon, they were too close for comfort. I felt the hairs on my neck prick up as I realized the footsteps belonged to "him".

Oh my God, why is he chasing me? What does he want?!

I increased my speed but gained hardly any mileage

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