Running Free

by Laura Sieveking

  When it was time to get set for the race, I took a few last little jumps. My muscles felt nice and supple. I adjusted my feet onto the starting blocks, leaning on my fingertips. I gently felt the track beneath my fingers. It was hard and warm. I could feel the imperfections in the ground – the small lumps and tiny loose pieces of dirt.

  I inhaled deeply, soaking in the smell of the track. It filled me with butterflies – flutters of nerves and joy. This is where I belonged. This was home.

  I lifted my head to look at the first hurdle. It beckoned me.

  Suddenly, the starting gun sounded and I exploded from the blocks. Not a false start, which was good. I could tell I’d made a solid start, bursting from the blocks within a millisecond of the gun’s shot.

  I sprinted for the first hurdle, making sure my strides were even and my body was tall. Even though I focused straight ahead, I could feel Lauren Ashton just over my left shoulder, breathing down my neck.

  My leaps over the hurdles were perfect. Well timed and the right height. I measured my breathing, making sure I wasn’t holding my breath.

  As I cleared the hurdles, I felt myself getting faster and faster. The finish line was within reach and I was in the lead. I felt fast and free, like a cheetah pounding across the savannah.

  I soared over the second last hurdle. One to go. I focused on the last hurdle and leapt. But my jump was low, my back leg trailing. It felt unbalanced and awkward. I clipped the hurdle with my foot and it came crashing down behind me. I stumbled, my arms flailing in front of me, my legs circling out of control below me, like a clown in a circus routine. I managed to stay on my feet and regather my pace. A lump formed in my throat as I saw Lauren whisk past me like a racehorse on a track. I gathered every ounce of energy I had left for the last sprint. I threw myself over the finish line.

  I turned to the electronic scoreboard.

  Lauren Ashton, Hunter Sports High

  Alice Chan, Bayside Athletics Club

  Josephine Ingram, Royal Academy of Sport for Girls

  I hunched my back, leaning on my legs, trying to catch my breath. I looked up at the board again, hoping the result would change.

  Coach Jack came over and gave me a big bear hug. And then all the emotions from the stress and worry of the last few weeks came to the surface, with tears flowing fresh and fast down my cheeks. Everything came crashing forwards at once. The thirty-eight per cent. The meeting with Mrs Cooper. Maybe having to repeat Year 7. Clara. The exam. The race. Mum.

  I sobbed and sobbed as Jack whispered soothing reassurance.

  ‘Bronze medal, Josie. You did great!’

  I couldn’t even respond, the weight of the disappointment crushing my spirit.

  ‘You’ve had a massive term, Jose. All that pressure in the classroom, then the finals here. You may not be junior hurdles champion, but with a bronze medal, you’ll be going on to Nationals.’

  ‘I … I … lost,’ I spluttered between sobs.

  ‘Josie, a bronze medal is amazing! And we will train you over the summer and you will be ready to take the title at Nationals, just like you’ve always dreamed.’

  I nodded, only slightly comforted.

  My dream of standing on that first-place podium, with the light blaring down onto my face and Dad cheering for me in the crowd, was gone. Sure, I’d still get a medal at the presentation, but they wouldn’t be flying the Academy flag. And everybody would be cheering for Lauren.

  Not me.

  The air was silent except for the light clacking of Mrs Henderson’s shoes on the floorboards. As she handed back each paper to nervous faces, the sound around me began to stir up. Groans of disappointment among sighs of relief.

  ‘Delphie,’ Mrs Henderson said, extending her hand with a thick bundle of white paper in it. Delphie reached out and grabbed her paper. Usually Delphie would have some kind of cheeky comment to go alongside a moment like this, but not today. Even Delphie was nervous.

  She turned over her paper and raised her eyebrows. She nodded slightly, and then shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘How’d you go?’ I whispered.

  ‘Not bad! Sixty-three per cent. Pretty happy with that.’

  ‘Josie,’ Mrs Henderson called. I tried to read her face as she passed me my paper. I couldn’t read her at all. Just as I took the paper from her, I saw her mouth flicker ever so slightly at the side. A faint smile?

  I sat down at my desk and started flicking through my booklet from the back. There were lots of ticks and a fair few crosses too. There was one section where I’d answered most of it wrong. I flicked past the geometry section and gasped as I saw a sea of red ticks cover the page. My formulas had been right.

  I couldn’t wait any longer. I turned to the front page to reveal my mark.

  Please be more than fifty per cent.

  A bold seventy per cent shone back at me.

  I gasped, pulling the paper closer to my face in case I was misreading it. No, it was definitely seventy per cent.

  ‘Did you pass?’ Delphie whispered nervously.

  I was unable to speak. I simply held up my paper so she could see the result. Delphie squealed and leapt out of her seat, embracing me in a massive hug.

  ‘That’ll do, Delphie,’ Mrs Henderson laughed. ‘But you are right to congratulate your friend there. Well done, Josie. Josie received the top mark for this class at seventy per cent. In fact, that was higher than the average mark for the next stream up, so a special congratulations.’

  The girls around me applauded, some with looks of utter shock on their faces.

  The bell sounded and I bounded out of the class, searching for Nina and Issy. As I rounded the corner I almost knocked over Clara Mason, who stumbled and dropped her books as I stopped just short of her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Clara,’ I said hurriedly, helping her gather her books up.

  ‘That’s okay,’ she said quietly. ‘What are you so happy about?’

  ‘I passed my exam,’ I smiled. ‘In fact, I’ve passed all my exams. I’m not going to repeat Year 7.’

  ‘That’s great news, Josie,’ she said warmly, genuinely happy for me. ‘I suppose you heard I got a zero on my exam. Now I have no chance of getting the academic medal at speech night on Friday.’

  ‘You could have won it you know, Clara,’ I said. ‘You didn’t have to cheat. You could have done it on your own.’

  Clara stared down at her feet.

  ‘And you know what? I knocked down a hurdle in the State Finals. I didn’t win, Clara. I came third. Lauren Ashton won, and I reckon if you’d played by the rules, you would have won that race. Her time wasn’t even as fast as yours in the last meet’s final. You could have won gold and gone to Nationals if you’d played fair.’

  Clara’s eyes were filled with sadness and regret. She knew I was speaking the truth.

  ‘Next time,’ she whispered.

  I nodded and patted her lightly on the arm.

  As I walked away, I saw Nina and Issy in the distance. Both of them had looks of anticipation and concern on their faces. They knew I had passed my other exams and were waiting to hear about Maths. I ran to my friends and pulled them into a group hug. I could tell as I released them that they were still unsure if I was hugging them out of joy or devastation.

  ‘I passed! No, I didn’t just pass, I got seventy per cent!’

  Issy and Nina’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

  ‘Seventy per cent?’ Issy squealed. ‘I’m in the middle stream and I got seventy-four per cent. You almost beat me!’

  ‘We did it,’ I smiled.

  ‘YOU did it,’ Nina corrected.

  ‘Yeah, I did. But I couldn’t have done it without you guys.’

  ‘Let’s go get a celebratory milkshake,’ Issy declared.

  I linked arms with my two best friends and headed down the hall.

  I stared at myself in the mirror. My black shoes shined without a scuff to be seen. My blue checked uniform was clean and ironed with a crisp, white co
llar. The Academy summer uniform had short sleeves, hemmed with a white cuff that sat just below the shoulder. My mass of strawberry blonde hair was neatly tamed in a French braid, which snaked its way down my back.

  I reached for my school blazer, hanging on my wardrobe door. Despite it being a warm, summer night, we were required to wear full uniform at special events. I slipped on my blazer and did up one of the buttons. I pulled my collar out and smoothed it over the navy coat. The Academy emblem beamed at me on my blazer pocket with the four-quadrant crest.

  ‘Looking swish!’ a voice said from my doorway.

  I smiled as Dad came into my room. He pulled out his phone and motioned for me to stand over by the blank wall.

  ‘Smile!’ he sang as he clicked the camera on his phone.

  ‘Hopefully the ceremony won’t take forever,’ I moaned.

  He smiled at me, staring at my face, his eyes glistening.

  ‘What?’ I said, scrunching up my nose as he stared at me.

  ‘I’m just so proud of you, Josie,’ he said. ‘I knew you could do it. You worked so hard and have achieved so much. You passed all your exams – you smashed Maths – and you are the bronze medal holder of the Junior Hurdles title. Your mum would have been bursting with pride.’

  I felt my throat catch at the mention of Mum being proud of me. I launched myself forwards and hugged Dad tightly.

  ‘I’ll admit, I’m a little disappointed with the State Finals. I didn’t want to stand on the third-place block. I wanted to stand on the first-place block, with everyone cheering for me!’

  Dad laughed. ‘You’re going to Nationals! You’ll get your medal, sweetie.’

  As we bundled into the car with Nick, the sky began to turn pink as the day ebbed away into evening. We had to drive into the city as the school had hired a conference centre for Speech Night. It was a big deal – the choir would sing and there would be speeches and prizes. I was really hoping Nina would take out the academic medal for our year. She deserved it. I knew I wasn’t going to be winning any academic prizes, but that was okay. School wasn’t where I shone.

  When we got to the conference centre, I was stunned at how massive it was. The auditorium had hundreds – maybe even thousands – of seats where the parents and relatives sat. The school students from Years 7 to 11 sat in the front rows, with the outgoing Year 12 taking pride of place on the stage. It must have been a big night for them – their last Speech Night as Academy girls.

  The ceremony began with a processional of teaching staff. The staff were dressed in their formal academic gowns. The principal, Mrs Brunette, walked onto the stage, followed by the senior staff, along with the school captain and vice captains. We sang the school song and everyone sat down in a noisy shuffle.

  Mrs Brunette rose from her seat and began the prize ceremony. She went through each year group and gave book prizes to the top student in each subject. Nina collected so many book prizes that she could barely carry them back to her seat!

  Then Mrs Brunette announced the Dux of each year group – the student who came first in the year group across all subjects.

  ‘Year 7: Nina Papalova.’

  Issy and I cheered as Nina walked onto the stage. Mrs Brunette put a shining gold medal around her neck and she beamed with pride.

  After reading the other year groups’ Dux winners, Mrs Brunette walked up to the microphone again.

  ‘And now, for the Endeavour Award for each year. This award goes to the student who has put in the most effort and improved the most in their academics in the year. Year 7: Josephine Ingram.’

  My head shot up. What? Me? A prize that wasn’t about sport? I shook my head confused.

  ‘Go!’ Issy hissed, laughing as I sat frozen in my seat.

  I nervously stood up and smoothed out my dress. I subconsciously lifted my hand to my hair, checking it was tidy. I climbed the stairs onto the stage and looked out to the hundreds of people watching me under the bright lights of the convention centre stage.

  Mrs Brunette shook my hand and hung a gold medal around my neck. I held it in my hand. It was cold and heavy. On it was engraved:

  Endeavour Award

  Year 7

  Josephine Ingram

  I scanned the crowd, searching for my dad as the entire school and parent community applauded for me. I finally saw a mop of red-blonde hair, belonging to Nick, and saw Dad next to him. He was cheering with his hands above his head.

  I could also see the coaching staff sitting behind the students. Coach Jack was fist-pumping the air. Mrs Cooper, the head of Year 7, was beaming at me. My friends were waving and whistling. Clara, too, had a massive smile on her face and was cheering for me.

  It suddenly dawned on me, as I stood there, staring out into the crowd. This was my dream. To be standing in first place with a gold medal around my neck. But never in a million years did I ever think it would be for schoolwork. I broke into a wide grin and waved to the crowd as I headed back down the stairs. I guess I was a winner after all.

  ‘Let’s get this party started!’ yelled Delphie as our whole year group let out a cheer.

  ‘Three cheers for finishing Year 7!’ Evie, an Academy gymnast, hollered. ‘Hip hip!’

  ‘Hooray!’

  ‘Hip hip!’

  ‘Hooray!’

  ‘Hip hip!

  ‘HOORAY!’

  Music began to blare through the speaker system as all the Year 7s ran for the food table. It was the very last day of term and the warm spring had broken into a scorching summer. Everyone had finished their exams, their final sports comps for the year and Speech Night was done and dusted. We were officially in party mode. Evie offered to host the end-of-year party for the whole of Year 7 at her house. At first, I couldn’t imagine how someone could host the whole year group at their house, but then, I had never seen Evie’s house! The huge, grassy lawn sprawled down to a massive, crystal blue pool. Evie had set up trestle tables and everyone had brought party food to share.

  ‘Congratulations on the Endeavour Award, Josie,’ a shy voice said from behind me. It was Chloe – an Academy horserider and boarder. I’d been in her cabin on a school camp earlier in the year. She was shy but such a sweet girl.

  ‘Thanks, Chloe,’ I smiled.

  ‘Chloe, there’s fairy bread!’ her American friend squealed, dragging her back over to the food table.

  ‘Woah, Jenna, just slow down!’ Chloe laughed as Jenna dragged her across the lawn.

  ‘Hey, look over there,’ Nina giggled, pointing to the far end of the lawn.

  Five Academy gymnasts began flipping and flying along the grass. Everyone gathered closer to watch them – it was like a circus show – as they ran, tumbled, walked on their hands and soared in the air.

  ‘Abby, chuck a layout!’ Evie yelled.

  The brown-haired girl, called Abby, ran and threw her arms forwards, tumbling into a backflip and then into a soaring straight-bodied somersault (which I guessed was called a ‘layout’).

  ‘Show us a trick, Evie!’ a voice screamed from next to me. It was Delphie, encouraging her friend, Evie, to have a go. Evie ran forwards and punched out a quick front somersault. She then launched into a row of about ten backflips, the crowd cheering louder and louder after each one. At the end, she took a dramatic bow. She was just like Delphie – such a performer!

  The gymnasts then huddled together and joined hands. A tiny little pixie-sized gymnast climbed onto their arms and they launched her into the air. The crowd gasped and Issy grabbed my arm in fear. The little gymnast twisted and spun in the air, then came down and landed safely into the arms of her friends.

  ‘Great job, Anwen!’ Evie high-fived the little gymnast.

  ‘Gymnasts are crazy,’ Nina said, shaking her head. ‘There is no way in a million years you would ever find me up that high. I’ll just keep my feet grounded on the running track, thank you very much!’

  Issy and I nodded and laughed.

  ‘So, what now for the summer?’ Issy said.


  ‘Swimming, beach, more swimming,’ I mused, smiling.

  ‘And training,’ Nina said in her best Coach Jack voice.

  ‘Yeah, Nationals are just around the corner, so we won’t be taking too much of a holiday,’ Issy sighed.

  ‘I just can’t believe this year is done,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘Our first year at the Academy, complete. It’s almost going too fast.’

  ‘I reckon it will only get better though,’ Nina smiled cheekily. ‘I can’t wait to see what Year 8 brings!’

  ‘To Year 8?’ Issy said, holding up her glass.

  ‘To the Academy?’ Nina offered.

  ‘To friends,’ I said, resolutely. ‘Friends forever.’

  Issy and Nina nodded and smiled, as we clinked our glasses together in the summer sun.

  Name: Josephine Ingram (Josie to you, thanks)

  Hair colour: Strawberry blonde

  Eye colour: Light blue

  Bestie: Nina. She’s my rock. I also love Issy and Delphie. Delphie is a swimmer and she’s in all my classes. She gets me.

  Likes: Running; riding bikes with my dad and brother; chocolate brownies; sleepovers; pizza and winning!

  Dislikes: Schoolwork (why can’t I just do sport?); exams; people who think they are better than me.

  If I couldn’t be a famous athlete, I would be … what do you mean, I can’t be a famous athlete?! That’s what I’m going to be, so deal with it.

  If I was at a party, I would be … in a push-up competition with someone. Or eating brownies.

  READ ALL THE BOOKS IN

  The Royal Academy of Sport for Girls series.

  Can rising gymnastics star Abby make her dreams a reality at the Academy?

  Being accepted into the Royal Academy of Sport for Girls was all Abigail Rogers had ever wished for. But before her feet can touch the ground, the gymnasts are thrown into their first competition of the year to determine who will make up the Academy team for the upcoming State Prelims. The pressure is on! Training harder than ever, and with rivalry growing among the students, Abby begins to doubt if she is, in fact, Academy material.