Miss Young paused. ‘It has to be a girl.’
‘Why?’
Good question, she thought. ‘Just the way it is,’ she said, looking at the clock. It was almost time to get them all outside for PE. ‘Any more, or are we closing the books?’
A shy hand went up.
‘Mia? You have someone you want to nominate?’
‘Yes. Lara.’
The entire class shifted their eyes to Lara, who was sitting at the table, her face fiery red.
‘How about it, Lara?’ asked Miss Young.
‘I don’t know...’
‘Go on,’ said Mia, nudging her arm.
‘It’s open to everyone,’ said Miss Young pointedly. She ignored the indignation on Rosie’s face, prayed that Lara would too.
‘Not everyone,’ grumbled Jakob.
‘Please?’ asked Mia.
The room held its breath.
‘OK,’ said Lara, barely audible.
‘Brilliant!’ said Rebecca quickly, before she changed her mind. She wrote Lara’s name on the board, then clapped her hands again to get their attention. ‘Voting will take place in a couple of weeks. Now get changed for PE!’
Lara ran out onto the field with Mia, checking over her shoulder for Rosie. ‘I’m scared Rosie’s going to be mad,’ she said.
‘Oh, who cares if she is,’ said Mia. ‘We all know she’s going to get the most votes, so it doesn’t really matter. I just thought you’d make a good queen.’
Lara gave her friend a grateful smile. The children were lining up at the start of the track on the cross-country field and they went to join them. Since moving to Ripton, Lara was thrilled to find she was not automatically excluded from PE and instead she’d gradually joined in. And she’d found she loved sport. Loved the way it made her feel after being the invalid for so long. She still needed her inhaler now and then, but she could take part. And that was really cool.
It was cold and the field, although not sodden, was muddy. In her ten-year-old eyes it was enormous and stretched for miles in all directions. Her last school had no green outdoor space at all, just the grey playground.
Miss Young was holding up her whistle. ‘We’re going to time you,’ she said, and half the class groaned. ‘Try andbeat your personal best! Remember, three laps!’ She gave the whistle one sharp blast and the children set off. Some of them – the boys especially – broke into a sprint immediately but Lara knew better than that. She’d been looking up blogs of famous runners on her new iPad that Auntie Beth had given her for Christmas and had learned about pacing and lactic acid. Sometimes she would foster a fragile dream of being on Team GB, running alongside her heroes. Something that, deep down, she knew would probably never happen – unless she got completely cured, but sometimes she would dream of that as well.
She set off at a pace that felt right and soon some kids began to fall behind. The field’s perimeter was surrounded on most sides by farm fields. At the furthest point from the school, the field on the other side of the school fence was full of sheep. It was Lara’s favourite part of the run. She loved seeing the sheep with their bulbous, knowing eyes staring at her as she ran past. Lara had fallen in love with them all with their woolly coats and expressive ‘baas’ and had refused to eat lamb from that point onwards. She smiled as she neared the field, seeing Daisy and Mr Chops, as she’d named them. She gave them a little wave and continued onwards. Soon she had finished the first lap and only two runners were ahead of her: Bea and Aiden, arguably the most sporty kids in the school. They had already lapped the slowcoaches right at the back and now she was nearing them too. One of them was Mia and she slapped hands with her as she passed.
‘Go, Lara!’ shouted Mia, and Lara gave a thumbs up.
She carried on at her steady pace, feeling her rhythm guide her, and soon she was passing Daisy and Mr Chops again. Up ahead she could see Rosie and Tilly and she felt herself automatically tense but then she checked herself.Just keep running, she thought. She still gave them a wide berth as she passed though. She heard sniggers from behind her and wasn’t going to look back but couldn’t help a quick glance. They were whispering to each other.Nothing different there, thought Lara and carried on, grateful to have passed them. She continued round, starting her third and final lap of the field.
Her legs were beginning to tire a bit now but nothing she hadn’t handled before. In fact, it gave her pleasure to know she could push through it. After another minute the tiredness had become more of an ache, but she refused to slow down. She didn’t want to be the kid who couldn’t do it. Not any more.
She looked towards the finish line. It wasn’t far, she thought, only another three quarters lap of the field. Bizarrely, she couldn’t see Miss Young any more. She wasn’t standing watching them all and Lara wondered where she’d gone. The ache in her legs took her mind away from her teacher. It’s the lactic acid, she reminded herself. When she got to Mr Chops she had no choice but to slacken her pace, but it wasn’t her legs letting her down, it was her lungs. She started to feel the age-old tightness in her chest, the breaths that didn’t fill her lungs and the increasing lack of oxygen. She fell into a walk and reached in her pocket. Wheezing now, she took the cap off and gave it a shake. Then suddenly, it was plucked out of her hands.
Lara’s eyes widened with shock. Rosie had caught up with her and had snatched the inhaler out of her reach. Tilly was beside her, the two of them laughing gleefully.
‘Give it back,’ said Lara.
‘You want some drugs?’ Rosie said to Tilly, and they pretended to puff on the inhaler.
Lara felt her chest tighten further. ‘I need it,’ she said, trying to pull more air into her lungs. ‘Give it back!’
