Page 1 of What Are the Chances
CHAPTER ONE
You’re a life saver
RILEY
Now in my third mile, my legs had shaken off the morning chill and found a steady rhythm. Apart from my nose that I continuously had to wipe on my sleeve, my body had forgotten how icy it was.
My mind switched off as I encouraged my legs to dig deeper. That’s what I’d always loved about running. Whether there was music in my ears, the sounds of nature, or even my heavy breathing, life seemed to disappear the moment I hit the track. I’d forget about classes and family drama and all of life’s problems. God knows there’d always been a long list of them.
It’s why I’d taken up running in the first place – it’d been an escape as a kid. Now it was how I coped. Upset? Run. Frustrated? Run. Need to clear my mind? Run. Right now I wasn’t necessarily any of those things, but the addiction ran too deep.
Life was returning to regular programming today. It was the first Monday since New Year’s Eve. Classes were restarting and team programs were kicking off again. Reality was back and I was prepared for it.
Halfway through my fifth mile, a familiar face appeared on the track. Grace’s blonde hair was tied in a low ponytail and secured beneath a beanie. I’d started running with a beanie as well, but it was now lying on the ground beside my towel and water bottle.
I’d passed Grace on campus a handful of times since meeting her on this very track a few months back. She was a student athlete though, which meant she spent most of her time outside of classes at the Athletes’ Centre – the part of campus I strived to actively avoid.
Right now, in the early hours well before most considered acceptable, was the only time I allowed myself to be this close.
I’d never enjoyed running on a treadmill, and outside of a gym, there weren’t many places on campus or around town that I could run at this time of morning. Surrounded by stadium lighting, this field was constantly bright enough to feel safe alone.
I’d once trialled wearing a headlamp around the streets of my off-campus home, but after nearly rolling my ankle on multiple curbs, I’d vetoed the idea and found myself back here.
Grace kept a commendable pace as she navigated the track. When she started, I mapped the distance between us and ensured I kept it the same. Running was my thing. I liked being the best at it. Though I’ll admit, she wasn’t making it easy.
By the time I wrapped up mile nine, my lungs were sharp and my calves were in serious need of a stretch. Slowing to a stop, I slipped out my headphones and dropped them on my towel. With one hand resting on the fence that surrounded the field, I edged my left leg forward and lowered my torso to stretch.
After finishing her lap, Grace came to a stop as well. She smiled as she took out her headphones and tucked them into her jacket pockets.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” I switched legs. “What triggered this morning’s run?”
Last time, and the only other time I’d seen Grace this early, was because she was adjusting to the time difference.
Grace was from Australia and here as part of Phil-U’s renown athletics exchange program. It was extremely competitive. Many of the sporting coaches came from professional backgrounds, and top tier athletes were recruited each year, which gave many of them an ego trip they didn’t need.
“Jetlag again,” Grace answered. “I went home for Christmas. I got back on New Year’s Eve.” She walked to the fence, propping her leg against it to stretch her hamstring. “Did you have a good Christmas break?”
I shrugged. “It was quiet.”
And awkward. There were no matching Christmas pyjamas in our family. It was a formal event, with a table way too big for four people and waitstaff on call to serve our meals. Conversation had been stilted. The only common ground my family had was hockey, and even that couldn’t carry five courses.
For most of my life I’d used my mum as an excuse to dodge dad’s Christmas lunch invitations. But since she’d passed, I’d been short on excuses. It’s not like I had other family to fall back on. No aunts. No cousins. Not even a boyfriend who could whisk me away to safer territory.
When my phone lit up with a notification, I reached down to pick it up. There was an update from my course counsellor. She was clearly an early riser too.
As I read over the email, my stomach sunk. The conditions of my final assessment had just changed. I was majoring in sports physical therapy and a course requirement for my senior year was to assess four college athletes and report all findings to the designated PT on their sporting team.
I’d had four athletes teed up at Allentown, our neighbouring college, but the conditions had now been altered to only assess students from Phil-U’s athletic department.
“Shit.”
Grace’s eyebrows lowered. “Everything okay?”
I reread the email, making sure I had the information correct. Unfortunately my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.
“Not really,” I told Grace. “My course counsellor has thrown a curve ball. I need to find four athletes to assess for the remainder of their season.”
