Changing the Rules (Richter Book 1)(63)

The crowd in the stands was cheering and yelling out school and student names. The energy on the field went up a thousand percent.

Every corner was filled with activity.

For Claire, there was nothing to do but wait for her heats. One for the eight-hundred-meter relay and one for the one-hundred-meter sprint. Both were spread out far enough to where she had plenty of downtime. She had an hour before her first race, and since Cooper was highly involved with the sprinters, he was between the start and the finish line coaching.

She marked the positions of her primary team even though she couldn’t communicate with them at all on the field.

Jax was in the stands with Elsie at her side. No sign of Ally.

Claire made eye contact with Sasha and was waiting for her signal to leave the field to join her.

When the signal came, she took a swig from her water bottle and dropped it on top of her backpack. She walked past her teammates who were lining up to run. “C’mon, Miller. You got this.”

She hopped over the three-foot chain-link fence and walked over to her “aunt.”

“I see you dressed down for this,” Claire teased.

Sasha smiled and, in a very American accent, said, “This is as casual as I get.”

She wore dress pants that billowed in the wind. The kind of high waist fit that only the long-legged, lean woman could pull off. Her white blouse was just as stylish. Her sleek black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her large-rimmed sunglasses a signature to her outdoor look.

If there was something about Sasha that impressed her from the beginning, it was how effortless she made every outfit look.

Behind Sasha, Eastman was looking their way.

Claire waited until he was close enough to hear. “I’m surprised you made it.”

“I told you I would and here I am.”

Claire turned her look to Eastman, then glared at Sasha.

“Hello, Miss Porter,” Eastman said, smiling.

“Out for a stroll and stumbled back to school on a Saturday, Mr. Eastman?” Claire asked.

“School event,” he said, opening his arms to the field. “And I am a schoolteacher. I always want to support my students.”

“Are you telling me there is no coincidence that you make time to come,” Claire said as she pointed at Sasha. “And you show up to a track meet?”

Sasha removed her sunglasses. “Don’t be ridiculous and stop being rude. I called Mr. Eastman since those parent-teacher nights never seem to match with my schedule.”

“I told you I was doing fine.”

“Which is exactly what you said at your last school. And now we’re here.” Sasha turned and extended a hand. “I’m Sasha, Claire’s aunt and guardian.”

“Well, tell her how I’m doing,” Claire challenged Eastman.

Eastman stared directly in her eyes. “Other than the obvious chip on her shoulder, Claire has made some significant improvements.”

“See!”

Sasha kept a straight face. “Fabulous. Now don’t you have to go run or something?”

Claire rolled her eyes and worked her way back onto the field.

The starting gun shot again, and the crowd cheered.



“Ally’s not coming,” Jax told Elsie after reading her text.

“What? Why?”

“She said she got busted last night after getting back from a party.”

“What party?” Elsie asked.

Jax shook her head, started to text her that very question.

The announcer went through a series of calls, running down the stats of the athletes on the field. When Claire’s name was mentioned, Jax put her phone down to watch.

“Eeeek, here she comes.”

Jax looked around the stands to see who had cameras pointed at the runners. Not that it mattered; there were many athletes and no idea who was watching who. Jax went ahead and turned her camera to video mode to show Claire later.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


There were five heats for the one-hundred-meter sprints. Even if she came in first for this one, there was no way of knowing if another heat’s winner was faster. Not until they were all over. The starting gun went off for the group in front of hers. She jumped up and down a few times, swinging her arms.

Cooper stood at the finish line.

Sasha watched from the fence, Mr. Eastman at her side.

Her teammates were staggered along the inside field.

The girls she ran the relay with were at the start. “Hey, Claire,” one of them called out.

She looked over.

“Run fast and don’t get hurt!” the three of them all yelled at the same time.

“Runners line up,” the ref told them.

Claire positioned her blocks in the fourth lane to her settings, dug her spikes in the ground, and crouched to her starting stance.

She stared down the lane, her focus on the finish line.

The noise in the stands faded, and her heartbeat sped up with anticipation.

The gun fired and she ran.

Names were shouted, hers in the mix.

She didn’t look left, didn’t look right. Everything was blocked out but the goal.

The race was over in seconds and Claire was across the line, not letting up until she ran out of room.

Catching her breath, she shook the hands of the runners in her heat and walked onto the grass, nearly getting tackled by her girls.