Conditioning

Authoress's note: Greetings peeps (hehe…)! This was a story I wrote in a notebook many months (years now) ago, when I was bored in class. I recently found the notebook, and as I finished reading the first page, I turned it to find that it was ALLI'DWRITTEN! Something everyone should know about me; I have no patience. None. I HATE starting to read something, and then having to WAIT to see what happens. Evidently this even applies to things that I'VE written. So, I had to go home, type it up, and finish it.

This will be just drabbles that happen while Bella takes advanced gym, most likely not related to each other. I dedicate this to my evil conditioning teacher, who inspired this story! And although she was evil, she was pretty cool.

Enjoy! This takes place somewhere in the Twilight world, not during any particular book, sometime after New Moon, but just pretend that Emmett still goes to the school.

Bella's Point of View

Gym. I hated it with every human fiber in my being. Forks High School had recently passed a rule that forced students to take at least one semester of conditioning gym class, something about the United States getting too fat.

Conditioning. In essence, it's a harder, more dangerous (for me) version of regular gym. While in my old gym class, I'd only get bruises, I'd probably be breaking several bones in this class. At the beginning of the coach's pep talk, she'd informed us that this semester would not be easy; in fact it would be hard. We'd be working on our endurance and weight lifting for most days of each week, with book-work once a week.

The Coach introduced herself as Coach Romel, pronounced 'Raw-Mell'. She said that we were to call her either by her name, or just as Coach. Coach was, to put it simply, a coach. She looked like someone who was born to be a gym teacher. She had a stern, sort of angry expression that seemed a permanent part of her face. I could easily picture her yelling at someone to go faster as they passed out. This didn't bode well for me at all. As the coach rambled on about how the habits we formed now would affect us for the rest of our lives, my mind told me the classic line 'at least it can't get any worse'.

Wrong.

As Coach picked up her clipboard to call roll, the gym door opened and closed with a loud squeaking sound. As she looked up to scold the late student for tardiness, her eyes widened and her open mouth closed with a click, I refused to look behind me at the newcomer, trying to convince myself that the flash of intuition was wrong. It couldn't be him. He wouldn't do that to me.

"Who might you be?" She asked them, still gawking.

"Edward Cullen." His voice said, coming up behind me. He sat down next to me with a huge grin on his face, which I only could see out of my peripheral vision. I was refusing to look at him, hoping that if I didn't actually see him, he'd go away. Gym class was the worst possible class we could have together.

My mind repeated itself in my brain 'at least now it can't get any worse'.

"And Emmett Cullen!" Edward's brother said indignantly, strolling to sit on my other side.

He grinned at me too, his smirk mirroring his brother's. My mind backtracked, trying to calm itself down; but it wasn't working. This was really, really bad.

I was sitting in a gym that smelled like generations of people had sweat in it (probably had), about to participate in a class that would surely be the most embarrassing experience of my life, assuming it didn't kill me. To make matters worse, my vampire boyfriend would see it all, along with his brother, who would wouldn't hesitate to laugh his head off it I turned myself into an idiot.

It was official: now it couldn't get any worse.

Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think! All the actual gym-events in this series are actually based loosely on real experiences in my conditioning class. Some of it is exaggerated, but I really did have a class like this! Hardest semester of my life!