Thwack, thwack sounded as her sneakers met pads. Lasiandra was completely impervious. Her finger wildly tapped at the screen of her mobile phone and words raced across the screen.
Shiny blond hair fluffed forward partially covered her face. However, it did not quite block out her sparkling blue eyes. Getting a date with the NBA basketball player was the only thought filling her mind.
“Lasiandra, unless you want to work as a member of a crew on a cruise ship, I recommend you re-join us.” Snickers followed Drill Sergeant Gary’s sarcastic comment.
Her lips were tightly closed. She was waiting for the happy return beep to tell her the NBA Superstar would soon be whisking her off for a romantic dinner. She was counting the seconds, nail tapping impatiently. Eureka, you have mail!
“Lasiandra! I’m serious; get over here and finish this drill or forget about getting your wings back.”
Lasiandra hesitated, trying to decide whether or not to message Trent back.
Always confident, she looked like a cherub with her head tilted to one side. Clad head to toe in faux velvet track pants and sweatshirt with the neon pink word, ‘rebel’ emblazoned across her perky breast.
The adventures of the last few months meant she had lost a little of her curvaceous figure, giving her a slightly more girlish appearance.
Raising her shoulders in a deep sigh, Lasiandra contemplated Drill Sergeant Gary in his too short brown running shorts, plaid orange and yellow polo. But what was he thinking with his socks pulled up like that?
Smiling, Lasiandra’s thoughts drifted. Actually, how can someone so clueless about fashion be in charge of getting them all into shape to fly the world smiling and saving travellers?
In actual fact the Drill Sergeant was decidedly underwhelming. Perhaps she could just take a second and drop a quick message to Trent. After all, it was good manners and her mother had always told her how important they were.
She drew her phone from her pocket, fingers itching to send a reply. The feel of breath against her cheek startled her. There was a blood curdling, “Lasiandra”, from Gary lips.
The phone slipped from her hand. She watched it flip in slow motion, hit the wooden floor of the gym and bounce once. It tilted on its sides and then ploughed over again. Her heart broke at the precise second she heard the screen crack.
Before she could reach grab it from the floor, the Drill Sergeant delivered a firm kick and it skidded out of reach.
Her dream of a wee fluoro mini dress, turquoise feathered earrings and a sophisticated up-do to impress Trent vanished.
She sighed as she resigned herself to the fact that there was no escaping drills.
With her signature killer smile, a shrug of shoulders for confidence and a light hand tweaked over hair to straighten it, she lifted those clear blue eyes, batted her lashes and said, “Sorry, Gary, I didn’t hear you.”
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