BoomWriter Writing Club Russell Secker Celebrity Book
The Runner
First chapter: Russell Secker
Book Code: BW-429 (?)
Send this book code to your friends and relatives - they can use it to quickly find this book in the bookstore
- BoomWriter
- More Writing Club Books
Published!
Only $9.99
1
The Saturday that would change my life forever had started very early and quite unexceptionally. My alarm clock woke me up at 6 a.m., and after a quick breakfast of cereal and milk I headed off to a local park for cross-country practice. Three hours and ten muddy, exhausting miles later, I was back home studying for my upcoming mid-term tests. By midday, my eyelids were drooping and my attention span had reduced to zero. I found myself reading and re-reading the same page of Biology notes, but nothing was sinking in. I wanted to sleep so badly but knew I couldn’t, so decided that food would be the next best thing. I grabbed my cellphone from my desk, and headed to the kitchen to see what I could persuade my mother to make me for lunch.
It had been a crazy school year – over committed as usual with college applications, school work, and of course cross-country. On top of all that, I’d tried to enjoy a social life of sorts, but it had been difficult to keep everything – and everyone – happy. I’d just about managed to skate by: grades just good enough to have a shot at a decent college; running just fast enough to stay with the varsity team; college applications submitted just in time; and parents still speaking to me, but again only just.
As I reached the kitchen, a text message popped up on my phone. It was Johnny, my cross-country teammate and best friend since Kindergarten. “Major problem – need ur help - pick u up tonite at 11pm”. This was weird. Neither of us were night owls, as we always had to get up so early to get in our practice miles. And no explanation of the problem, which was also unlike Johnny. I set down my phone, and munched on some toast and peanut butter, all the while trying to think of reasonable excuses. Eventually I wrote back lamely: “Nah, gotta study”, hoping he’d find someone else to help him out. But immediately my phone pinged again: “Dude, u gotta help me – MAJOR problem”. I was intrigued, Johnny was a friend, but I didn’t need to risk getting caught sneaking out so late at night. Besides, I was completely bushed and work was piling up. I put the phone in my pocket and headed back to my room.
Ten minutes later, another ping. “11pm – OK?” Against my better judgment, I typed “K” and hit send. Maybe whatever crisis Johnny was dealing with would resolve itself in the next few hours, and I’d be off the hook? I opened up my Biology folder once again and got comfortably situated on my bedroom floor. The next thing I remembered was my mother waking me from a deep sleep and calling me down for dinner at 6 p.m.
As she dished up meatloaf and mashed potatoes, Mom suddenly mentioned: “Oh, Johnny called the house phone while you were sleeping. I told him you were asleep; he said to remind you that he needed your help later. He seemed kind of stressed. Is everything OK with him?”
“I guess,” I said. Rule Number One when dealing with inquisitive parents – and is there any other kind? – is to give away as little information as possible without appearing rude or evasive. “Maybe he has a schoolwork question?” I volunteered, almost certain that whatever problem Johnny had, it had nothing to do with schoolwork. Parent Rule Number Two is to use misdirection liberally, to throw nosey or anxious parents off the scent and off into the dark. Thankfully the subject was quickly dropped, and as soon as dinner was done, I headed back to my bedroom to take a third shot at that Biology revision. Five minutes later, another text ping. “We’re out front – need ur help NOW”. I looked out of my bedroom window, and saw a dark late model Mustang I didn’t recognize with its parking lights on and its engine running. I could see that there were two people in the car. What on earth was going on? “Be right there”, I typed. This better be really important, I thought.
Trying to attract as little parental attention as possible, I sauntered downstairs and grabbed a jacket from the hall closet. “Johnny’s out front and needs my help for a sec,” I announced vaguely towards anyone within earshot in the family room. There was no reply, so I grabbed my keys, opened the door and went out to the unfamiliar car.
Johnny was sitting in the passenger seat wearing a distracted look on his face. He was hunched in his seat, and looked smaller than usual. The driver was a big football-playing kid I recognized from school, but knew I didn’t like. You just know instinctively that some kids are bad news – and he was one of them. What on earth was Johnny doing riding around in his car?
“I’m Evan,” he growled. “Your buddy here has something to show you. Right, Johnny?” Johnny nodded mutely without looking at me. “Go take a look in the trunk.” I hesitated for a second, then walked to the back of the car. As I did so, Evan pushed the trunk release button, and the trunk lid slowly opened. My heart stopped when I saw what was inside.
It had been a crazy school year – over committed as usual with college applications, school work, and of course cross-country. On top of all that, I’d tried to enjoy a social life of sorts, but it had been difficult to keep everything – and everyone – happy. I’d just about managed to skate by: grades just good enough to have a shot at a decent college; running just fast enough to stay with the varsity team; college applications submitted just in time; and parents still speaking to me, but again only just.
As I reached the kitchen, a text message popped up on my phone. It was Johnny, my cross-country teammate and best friend since Kindergarten. “Major problem – need ur help - pick u up tonite at 11pm”. This was weird. Neither of us were night owls, as we always had to get up so early to get in our practice miles. And no explanation of the problem, which was also unlike Johnny. I set down my phone, and munched on some toast and peanut butter, all the while trying to think of reasonable excuses. Eventually I wrote back lamely: “Nah, gotta study”, hoping he’d find someone else to help him out. But immediately my phone pinged again: “Dude, u gotta help me – MAJOR problem”. I was intrigued, Johnny was a friend, but I didn’t need to risk getting caught sneaking out so late at night. Besides, I was completely bushed and work was piling up. I put the phone in my pocket and headed back to my room.
Ten minutes later, another ping. “11pm – OK?” Against my better judgment, I typed “K” and hit send. Maybe whatever crisis Johnny was dealing with would resolve itself in the next few hours, and I’d be off the hook? I opened up my Biology folder once again and got comfortably situated on my bedroom floor. The next thing I remembered was my mother waking me from a deep sleep and calling me down for dinner at 6 p.m.
As she dished up meatloaf and mashed potatoes, Mom suddenly mentioned: “Oh, Johnny called the house phone while you were sleeping. I told him you were asleep; he said to remind you that he needed your help later. He seemed kind of stressed. Is everything OK with him?”
“I guess,” I said. Rule Number One when dealing with inquisitive parents – and is there any other kind? – is to give away as little information as possible without appearing rude or evasive. “Maybe he has a schoolwork question?” I volunteered, almost certain that whatever problem Johnny had, it had nothing to do with schoolwork. Parent Rule Number Two is to use misdirection liberally, to throw nosey or anxious parents off the scent and off into the dark. Thankfully the subject was quickly dropped, and as soon as dinner was done, I headed back to my bedroom to take a third shot at that Biology revision. Five minutes later, another text ping. “We’re out front – need ur help NOW”. I looked out of my bedroom window, and saw a dark late model Mustang I didn’t recognize with its parking lights on and its engine running. I could see that there were two people in the car. What on earth was going on? “Be right there”, I typed. This better be really important, I thought.
Trying to attract as little parental attention as possible, I sauntered downstairs and grabbed a jacket from the hall closet. “Johnny’s out front and needs my help for a sec,” I announced vaguely towards anyone within earshot in the family room. There was no reply, so I grabbed my keys, opened the door and went out to the unfamiliar car.
Johnny was sitting in the passenger seat wearing a distracted look on his face. He was hunched in his seat, and looked smaller than usual. The driver was a big football-playing kid I recognized from school, but knew I didn’t like. You just know instinctively that some kids are bad news – and he was one of them. What on earth was Johnny doing riding around in his car?
“I’m Evan,” he growled. “Your buddy here has something to show you. Right, Johnny?” Johnny nodded mutely without looking at me. “Go take a look in the trunk.” I hesitated for a second, then walked to the back of the car. As I did so, Evan pushed the trunk release button, and the trunk lid slowly opened. My heart stopped when I saw what was inside.
***
2
Right in the middle of the trunk was a tube with some liquid inside. I was confused.
...
...
***
Read the full story – Buy this book!
3
"Okay, well what about the liquid then?! It's broken, remember?"
It's ...
It's ...
***
Read the full story – Buy this book!
4
I followed him with Johnny right behind me. Evan headed towards the Science department that closed and looked really creepy. ...
***
Read the full story – Buy this book!
5
I slowly got to my feet, coughing the dust out of my mouth. I could hear Johnny struggling to get up, and as the stars in front of my eyes slowly subsided, I could see him crouched underneath a table, surrounded by the ruins of the lab. Evan was nowhere to be seen. Helping Johnny up, I caught sight of Evan trapped underneath the remains of a cabinet. He wasn't moving.
"Oh, ...
"Oh, ...
***
Read the full story – Buy this book!
Total Tickles: 182
Latest tickles:
