40

At four forty-five, the sound of pseudo ocean slowly filtered into Sabrina’s consciousness. Ugh. Why had she been so quick to say she would be at this morning’s workout?

She rolled over and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, using every bit of her inner strength to fight the urge to roll over and go back to sleep. And that was the reason she’d agreed to this. Inner weakness was not to be indulged. It was that kind of thing that lost championships. Or internships. Or stellar grade point averages.

Somehow she managed to pull on some sweats, splash water on her face, and brush her teeth with one minute to spare. When she walked down to the sidewalk, Brandy was already there, pacing.

“So you did make it.” Brandy made a show of looking at her watch. “Barely.”

“Did you doubt me?” Sabrina meant it as a flip question, but instead of a quick, snarky response, Brandy simply looked at her long and hard.

“No.” She grabbed her left foot behind her to stretch out her quads. “I guess I didn’t.”

The weight of responsibility pressed down on Sabrina’s shoulders. It was more than a little uncomfortable. “What’s on your spreadsheet for today?”

“Distance.”

“Better get moving, then.” She flipped open her laptop, ready to think about something else. “I’m expecting to see some progress since the last time I watched you.”

Brandy took off in the usual direction without another word. For just a moment Sabrina watched, noting that her form did look better. Well, it was early in the run yet. Five miles had a way of showing what was ingrained and what was just for show.

Sabrina turned her attention back to her laptop. Her brain cells were not sufficiently engaged to do any sort of meaningful work at this point. Might as well check her email. She opened Outlook, thankful for the nice range of Nana’s Wi-Fi.

She did a quick preliminary scan and noticed one from Candace Davenport. It had been received late yesterday afternoon. She scrolled down and read it first.

Another interview?

An uneasiness settled on her that only grew worse the more she tried to talk herself out of it. Of course, they had said this was a possibility all along, but it seemed a little too convenient that this “unlikely” event occurred right after her hospitalization. What if Cassie had told her sister-in-law about the rash-covered girl she’d seen in the gift shop? Or worse, what if her mother had accessed her medical records and shared even more than that? Were they concerned that she wouldn’t have what it took to do the job?

Either way, she planned to go into this interview prepared to show them that she was not only able, but was the best person for the job.

The sound of rubber slapping against concrete pulled her back into the current. Brandy was almost back from her first lap. Sabrina looked down at the stopwatch. “Three minutes. Not bad, but you’d better be back here before it gets to six.”

Brandy huffed past her, shaking her head. “Now I remember why I liked training alone.”

I like that better, too. The thought came with a fierceness that almost took her breath away. It was more than a random thought, it was an anger so deeply embedded she’d been able to ignore it most of the time. But not now. Not when another gross unfairness was staring her in the face. Why would God allow this to happen? Sabrina had done everything right. She had followed the rules, worked hard—she deserved to be out there running. She deserved to get the internship she’d earned on merit.

It wasn’t her fault that her body had rebelled. It wasn’t her fault even now, when her dream internship was being threatened, probably because of that same unfair disease.

She was good at designing publicity campaigns. That was something that neither arthritis nor her immune system could take from her. No. She was going to fight for this.

Hard.

Koen was sitting at the corner table, and even though his psych book was open in front of him, the movement of thumb against phone dispelled any thought that he was actually studying. As Sabrina moved toward him, she wasn’t sure which made her happier—Koen’s presence or the prospect of the nice padded chair beside him. She dropped into it, rubbed her right knee, then propped her feet on the chair across from her. “I’m glad that shift’s over.”

“Me too. Studying, in and of itself, is a horror, but having to do it alone, well, that’s downright torturous.”

“Like you’ve been studying. You’ve been texting the entire time you were in here.”

“No I wasn’t, I was . . .” He paused for a moment and then leaned closer. “Hey, I think I like knowing that you’ve been watching me.” He leaned closer for the shortest of kisses. His lips felt so warm and soft. “What do you say we blow off studying altogether?”

It was so tempting, or at least it would have been if there wasn’t another trip to Atlanta, another interview looming. “Next week, after I get back, I promise I’ll relax a little.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m going to hold you to that.” He kissed her on the cheek. “You’re limping today. You feeling all right?”

“I’m fine.” Sabrina repeated the same answer she’d given her grandmother while standing in the kitchen that very morning, and on the phone with her mother repeatedly throughout the week. Fact was, the absence of her strongest arthritis meds was taking a toll on her knees. She knew that she couldn’t afford to show any kind of weakness in Atlanta on Monday, because she was not going to give them any excuse, any indication that she was not fully up to the job.

“Have you tried icing your knees?”

Normally, this kind of comment would put Sabrina into a “mind your own business” frame of mind. With a busy week looming ahead, she thought now might be a good time to swallow her pride. “That’s probably a good idea. Hold on a second, I’m going to get some ice from behind the counter before we get started.”

“Would you be more comfortable if we went back to your house to study?”

“More comfortable, probably, but not worth the added worry it would give to my grandmother, and hence my parents.”

“You really don’t like people to worry about you, do you?”

“No, I don’t. And I like pity even less.”

And, more than that, I hate that this disease is able to take away everything that matters to me, one dream at a time.