Two hundred and fifteen cranes today. I worked all through the school day, but, when fifth period came around and I was once again preparing myself to skip gym, Neil grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me into the locker room. "No skipping today." He said in a brotherly tone as the smells of cologne, sweat, and unwashed clothes assaulted me. He pulled me past the lockers and partially naked boys, then opened the door for the gymnasium itself.

Neil concocted an elaborate tale about the scars on my back (it was my excuse for not taking off my shirt.) He politely explained that, due to my lack of self confidence, it would be highly problematic for me to change my clothes in front of others and suggested that I be given access to one of the private changing rooms. Our teacher nodded his bald head and pointed to the nearest of the rooms.

Gym class was horrible. I remembered once again why I had hated it so much. We spent the first fifteen minutes running, and that meant no stopping, or else the teacher, who looked like a bodybuilder and spoke about as much as Butterfly, would make you do extra laps of the large gym. After that, we did about a hundred (I lost count at sixty seven) push ups and sit ups. No wonder all the guys here had great abs.

Half dead, we divided into teams for a friendly soccer match, during which I was hit twice with the ball, tackled by Hans and Frans, punched in the ribs by a boy whose name I had yet to learn, and made a spectacular save when Neil was away from our team's goal. By the end of it, I was so exhausted, all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die. I made it about halfway across the gym after everyone had left for the locker rooms, and collapsed. Would they let me stay here? I wondered hopefully. Could I just lay on the cool wood floor until the strength returned to my limbs? I could serve as an obstacle in class. 'The first team to get past the girl wins,' or I could be a divider line or something. I was just content to not have to use my muscles, or lack there of.

"Ethan?" Taki's voice seemed to come from a long way away.

"I'm dead." I explained, my voice muffled by the gym floor. "Leave me alone."

"You have class in five minutes, and you haven't showered yet." Alex came over and turned me around onto my back.

"Too tired." I replied groggily.

"I could help you." Taki offered, then seemed to understand the implications of what he had said and blushed.

"Are you gay?" Alex asked, obviously interested. For a moment, I considered matchmaking Taki and Alex, but my weary mind couldn't grasp the picture.

"No." Taki said quickly. "I swear, I'm not gay."

Alex looked disappointed and helped me to my feet. My legs shook slightly but held.

"I hate gym class." I moaned as I persuaded my sore limbs to move me in the direction of the private dressing room. "I really, really hate it."