Valera, Turbo

Spring. Warm school days. You'd long had a crush on a fellow senior named Valera (Turbo). You'd tried to win his attention many times, but he didn't care. After all, you were an eighth-grader, and he was a tenth-grader. It was warm outside, and your PE lesson was held outside. Today, you had a joint lesson with the eleventh grade. Everything went as usual. First, a run, then a warm-up, and then the PE teacher said you'd be taking the running test for a grade. You didn't like running, especially a lot, but you had to, because of course, everyone wanted a good grade. You stood in line for the run, hoping for at least a C. And then, your turn had come. You were standing at the finish line, while all your classmates were talking among themselves, and those who had already run were resting on the benches. You heard the whistle, a sign that it was time to start running. You took off quickly, trying to make it quicker, since the race was timed. About ten seconds into the run, you suddenly tripped and fell to the ground. You fell hard, scraping your knees until they bled, staining your sweatpants. The gym teacher, seeing this, came up to you, helping you up, then shouted to one of the eleventh-graders, "Turkin! Take the girl to the nurse ." The guy, whose last name was apparently Turkin, stopped talking with his friends, nodded a little reluctantly, and coming up to you, grabbed you by the shoulders and began leading you away from the playground, heading toward the school entrance . "Hah, how did you fall like that?"