9

The gun fired and Sabrina surged forward, pushing hard so that she would be at the front of the pack. She couldn’t afford to take the chance of getting trapped behind a slower runner.

She drove onward with all the strength she possessed, not daring to take her focus off the path ahead of her for even a split second. She wouldn’t waste the tiniest amount of energy doing anything but powering forward, always forward.

The opening section of the course narrowed from the large grassy field onto a wide dirt pathway between the trees. After covering at least a couple of miles, she finally dared a glance to her right. She saw nothing. Then to her left. Again, nothing. Wherever the other runners were, they were at least far enough back that she couldn’t see them without turning her head completely to the side. This knowledge increased her desire to move faster. Someone might be outpacing her at this very moment, moving up into her blind spot and hiding there until it was too late.

Her leg muscles burned from the lactic acid, but she had trained herself to ignore that pain. All that mattered now was the rhythm of her feet meeting the earth, the feel of the wind in her face, the steady, deep pace of her breathing, and the impending threat of whoever might be running behind her. She ran faster and faster, out through the other side of the wooded area, along the curving stretch of land that led around the back of the course. It was here, right now, in these moments that she felt the most alive. As if nothing she had done until this point mattered, and yet everything she had done to get ready for this point mattered in the utmost.

She rounded the last corner to come back to face the grassy field where she’d started. The runners’ chute was before her, the colored flags beckoning, begging her to hurry. She forced her legs to give more than they’d ever given before and dove across the finish line to screaming and cheers. The next thing she knew, she was lying on the ground, exhausted, her mother and coach kneeling beside her, laughing and crying and shouting all at the same time. “You broke the women’s record for this course by more than twenty-five seconds. You were absolutely amazing. Flawless,” her coach was saying.

“Darling, I am so proud of you. So very proud.” Mom’s voice was quieter, yet bursting with the enthusiasm that only Mom could have. “You are amazing.”

Then the sound all dissolved into silence and a jolt of pain shot through her left knee, then her right. It lingered and built steadily and then her shoulders and elbows joined in until it became so unbearable that Sabrina curled into a ball and cried with the intensity of it. The tears streamed down her face and soaked into her hair, and still the pain didn’t relent.

Sabrina awoke with a start. Her pillowcase was wet, as were her face and the fringes of her hair. She sat up and shook her head, trying to clear out the last of the memory. The triumph had felt so real, just as real as when she’d actually experienced it—right up until the pain. That part of the dream her subconscious must have tacked on just to remind her that those glory days were over. Why couldn’t it just shut down the whole thing? Strange, she hadn’t dreamed about her “before” life in a long time.

She reached behind her and flipped her pillow over to the dry side, then lay back down. She couldn’t linger on the pain—that path led to dark places—nor could she skip over it to her old life. Forgetting one meant forgetting both. None of those memories were to be entertained or encouraged, so she closed her eyes and searched for something else to grab her attention . . . school . . . the brochure she was designing for her upcoming interview. Now, which font should she use for the lettering?

“It’s Saturday morning. What was I thinking when I agreed to this?” Brandy screamed the words up into a still-dark sky, knowing that at this ungodly hour there was no one to hear her but the fading stars. Everything inside her told her to turn around and go back to bed, but the threat of a quick trip to juvie was enough to keep her going. Not that she was afraid, but why risk it if she could game the system to get out of it? She’d scammed that judge. Not to mention, she was going to show that snotty Sabrina that she was wrong about her, just like all the rest of them. She rounded the corner to Sabrina’s street and saw her sitting on the retaining wall, eating an apple and laughing. “What?”

“In answer to your question, you were thinking how much you’re going to enjoy getting faster and stronger, and you were thinking how grateful that you are that you are going to be allowed to stay with your grandmother, and you were thinking that I am a wonderfully nice person to be out here doing this for you.”

“Uh, sure that’s what I was thinking, and how did you hear me?”

“I think most of the town heard you.” Sabrina took another bite of apple, but because she was still laughing, she choked and began to cough.

Good. Served her right.

“Okay, I’m assuming you’re mostly warmed up after walking over here, but do a few stretches and we’ll get started.”

Brandy hated the whole stretching thing. It seemed so pointless. Still, she lifted her right foot behind her, grabbed it with her left hand, and pulled. “So, are you a runner?”

“Nope. Now change legs.”

Brandy switched legs. “Then how is it everyone thinks you’re qualified to coach me?”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? Fact is, I’m saving your neck because they think so. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all that counts. Lift your toes and stretch out your shins.”

Brandy put in enough effort to make her halfhearted stretching look believable. “Okay, let’s get started. Where am I running to?”

“First thing I want you to do is run as fast as you can to the stop sign. As soon as you touch it, I’ll stop the clock.” Sabrina held up the stopwatch in her hand.

“Why such a short distance? I’m supposed to be training for cross-country, right? Don’t you want me to go around the block or something?”

Sabrina looked at her. “Are you going to do what I ask, or would you rather coach yourself?”

I’d rather go back to bed. “I was just asking a question.” What was it with authority figures that they all got so completely whacked out on power? “Where do you want me to start?”

Sabrina pointed at a crack on the sidewalk illuminated by the streetlight just overhead. “Right there.”

Brandy set up and waited until Sabrina said go, then ran for the stop sign with all that was inside her. No one could top her when she was running at her fastest—she loved the feel of this kind of speed. She reached up and slapped the sign as she passed by, then turned to see Sabrina’s response. It was obvious from the look on her face that she was surprised by the time. Ha. Brandy had showed her.

“Okay, now jog back to the start and do it again.”

This was pointless. Running distance had nothing to do with short-distance sprints. This girl was obviously just trying to push her buttons though, and Brandy wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d gotten to her. She jogged back to the starting line.

“I want you to do that again, but it’s important that you don’t get a slower time than your first sprint.”

“Not a problem.” Brandy managed to say the words with more confidence than she felt. If she’d known this was how it was going to work, she would have given herself a bit of slack to work with.

“Go.”

Brandy ran with all she had inside her and leapt forward and smacked the sign. She knew she’d gone plenty fast.

“You lost one tenth of a second. Do it again.”

Brandy did but her legs hurt more now, her breathing was less controlled.

“Another tenth. Again.”

An hour later, Brandy was dripping with sweat and could hardly breathe. Sabrina finally said, “Alrighty, I think that’s enough sprinting for the day. On Wednesday we’ll concentrate on some distance work.”

“Great. Sounds great.” Brandy picked up her water bottle, downed about half of it, then stumbled toward home. “If I survive that long,” she mumbled under her breath.

“That’s my goal,” Sabrina called out. “Either bring you to your full potential or kill you in the process.”

Brandy hadn’t intended for that to be overheard. She stopped and turned. “Sounds to me like you don’t much care which way it goes.”

“Well, if you keel over, I can go back to sleeping in on Saturday, so I guess both sides have their advantages.” Sabrina cocked one eyebrow in that “I’m better than you” kind of way that prissy girls liked to do. Brandy’s hands balled into fists out of instinct, but before she made a move, Sabrina burst out laughing. “Oh, Brandy, you should see your face. Relax, will you. If we’re going to have to do this thing three times a week, you’re going to have to lighten up a little.”

Brandy stared at her, trying to decide whether she still wanted to hit her. But little by little, as she watched Sabrina laugh, her anger faded until she sort of grinned, too. “Uh . . . thanks for the support?”

“You are more than welcome. Now get home and start plowing through your backlogged schoolwork. I don’t want any calls from Coach Thompson complaining that you’re not doing your part.”

“Is cross-country a sport, or is it house arrest?”

“The way I see it, if you’re really serious about it, there’s not a lot of difference. Now get moving.”

Brandy pivoted on her left foot, and just to show Sabrina that she hadn’t beaten her, she began to run toward home. It took everything she had left to make it around the corner before she slowed to a walk, but she’d never been one to admit defeat. No reason to start now.