He was a great runner. Clare ambled along at the back, jogging along, lost in a daydream as usual. He steamed ahead, focused on the finishing line. He had lapped her once already; she had felt the wind pick up, the footsteps thumping on the ground, then he'd passed her in a blur. The other girls were right behind him, wanting to be the first ones to be with him when he finished.
There, he'd finished, she saw. The girls were surrounding him, praising him. One even dared to reach out and push back a stray lock of hair. Clare sighed wistfully. Her daydream that day had actually been about him. Him stopping, waiting for her to finish too so they could walk together, the popular girls staring at her enviously. Instead, what really happened was she daringly picked up a little speed and finished with a flair. Tripping over her own shoelace wasn't the flair she'd had in mind though. She shuffled past them, ignoring their sniggers, not looking to see if he joined in or not.
Back in school, she drifted into maths, and into her seat, noticing with a start that he was right next to her. He looked at her, and mouthed "Are you ok?" Clare stared, then looked straight ahead, He'd had lettuce in his teeth.