Nia

I’m running around the school.
And around and around.
I can’t breathe.
How many more times?
“Three more,” says the coach.
Why did I join track?
Why do I do this to myself?
My body is already lean.
And at a weight that one day I will covet.
There’s no fat to shed.
Here’s why:
She’s running the other way.
Nia.
I’m going to ask her out to the dance next week.
I needed a reason to know her name.
She smiles at me as we pass.
Nia is a blur.
Who will say no to me next week.
A rejection that I will enjoy for a lifetime.