In the locker room before gym class, Kyle pulled his gym clothes out of his locker. He gave his T-shirt a quick sniff. Gross, he thought. Guess it’s time to take this home and wash it.
Once he was dressed, he headed into the gym to meet the rest of his class.
His friend Ryan was waiting for him.
“Let’s go,” Ryan said. “We’re meeting in the gym today instead of outside.”
“Why?” Kyle asked. “We’re not done with the soccer unit until next week, right?”
Ryan shrugged. “No clue,” he said. “I just heard we’re supposed to meet in the gym.”
Kyle pulled open the creaky gym door. He was surprised to see a section of the bleachers pulled out. Everyone was sitting down. Mrs. Fitch, the gym teacher, stood next to a dry-erase board.
“Do you think we’re in trouble?” Kyle whispered.
“You should be in trouble for how bad your clothes stink,” Ryan whispered back.
“Nice,” Kyle replied.
Kyle and Ryan walked up the bleacher stairs and took seats in the last row. Mrs. Fitch wrote OLYMPIC FEST in bold red letters on the chalkboard.
“As most of you know, the Summer Olympics are coming up,” Mrs. Fitch explained. “This year, we’ve decided to organize our own Olympic-themed unit here at Ring Lake.”
“Cool,” Ryan whispered. Ryan loved all sports, but Kyle wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Baseball and soccer are fun, but Olympic events? Kyle thought. No, thanks.
“Immediately following our soccer unit,” Mrs. Fitch continued, “we’ll begin training for the Olympic Fest. The event will take place two weeks from Saturday. We’ll be doing as many events as we can. But we’ll treat this like the real Olympics. Each student will participate in one event.”
“I want to do pole vaulting,” Ryan whispered.
“You don’t know how to pole vault,” Kyle replied.
“Not yet,” Ryan said, grinning.
“I’ve arranged for us to compete against four other schools,” Mrs. Fitch said. “Each school will be like a different nation, competing for gold, silver, and bronze.”
Medals? Kyle thought. He took a deep breath. Maybe Olympic Fest is a bigger deal than I thought.
Ryan raised his hand. “When do we pick our events?” he asked.
“Right now,” Mrs. Fitch said. She held an upside-down football helmet filled with paper slips. “You’ll each draw one.”