Finally. This was the day – the day of the bet. Percy and James bounded out onto the field, buzzing with energy and exchanging the odd mischievous grin while they prepared themselves for the race. Whoever emerged victorious would win a kiss from Abigail, the most beautiful girl in town – not that she had agreed to it, mind you…

Sure he would be the one to succeed, Percy was already lost in thoughts of the prize that lay ahead. I’ll ask her to go for a walk in the woods with me, or…no – I’ll kiss her on this very field, I’d love to see James’s face when it happens

James, however, had no such thoughts, nervously pacing back and forth as he waited for Percy to catch up with him at the threshold of the field. He didn’t even look at Percy – the last thing he wanted was to be faced with was that cocky, nonchalant complexion grinning back at him right now!

He’ll be all aghast and tearful, it’ll be a laugh…

And they were running, racing, flying across the field – two champions sprinting for Olympic gold…

James dived to the ground, striking the finishing line – Percy was flailing, windmilling, cartwheeling through the air, blazing like a firecracker.

James stood up, staring at the ground – aghast – tears streaming down his face as the dust crawled up his eye sockets. Percy, a rag, lay on the ground.

~ Jordan Strobach-Morris, 12.12.2015


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