45

Sabrina hadn’t meant to be there. Had done everything in her power to make certain that she would not, in fact, come. But here she stood, the finish line in sight, watching Brandy struggle to keep herself upright and moving.

This morning Sabrina had begun the day early and according to her plans—until she paused to eat some breakfast and Nana said, “I feel like there’s something I’m supposed to be doing today. I just can’t remember what it was.”

Sabrina took another bite of Cheerios. “I hate that kind of feeling.”

“Me too.” Nana looked at Sabrina, head tilted to the side, as if she expected to find her answer.

Sabrina took another bite and then another, still feeling her grandmother’s gaze locked onto her face. Finally, Nana shook her head slowly and stood up. “Guess not.” She wandered out of the room, leaving nothing but a gnawing, guilty feeling behind.

By the time Sabrina took her bowl to the sink, her focus had been replaced by a growing sense of guilt. Today was Brandy’s race. But why should she feel guilty about not being there? It wasn’t like she could do anything to help Brandy during the race. And she knew Kayla and company would be there. Why subject herself to more of that? She was doing what was required of her. She was coaching Brandy three days a week, just like the courts had asked her to. They never said anything about driving up to Nashville to stand on a sideline during a race.

She turned toward her room. She needed to get started on her paper—that was her job for today. Somehow she would just have to focus hard enough to get past any inner voice that said otherwise.

Half an hour later, she was pacing her room in frustration.

When her phone vibrated, she picked it up, welcoming the distraction. It was a text message from Koen.

Sabrina stared at the words across the screen, then walked over to look out the window. She looked down at the very sidewalk where Brandy had been putting in mile after mile, and at the retaining wall where she had sat and coached. Those were the things that were required of her. Nothing more.

She walked back over to her phone, picked it up, and typed her answer.

Why had she replied that way, when she’d just spent so much time convincing herself she didn’t need to? Whatever the reason, after she sent the text her guilt vanished and for a second she felt happy. Only a second. What would she find when she got to the race? Would they drive all the way up there just to watch another debacle? It was possible. Almost likely. But in the moment, Sabrina knew that her mother was right. Brandy was part of her new calling, and that meant being there at the darkest of times.

They had arrived at the race just at the start. Just in time to see Brandy pass. She looked focused and healthy. And she was pacing herself. Maybe, just maybe, today might be a good day.

They’d moved to a stretch of course near the finish and waited, the silence and calm somehow worse for not knowing what was happening. But soon enough the runners appeared, blasting toward the finish line, and Sabrina could hardly believe her eyes. One of the Samson Academy girls was the first woman to appear, but only five yards back, there was Brandy. Sprinting. But her face was bright red and her arms were not pumping quite as hard as they should be.

Sabrina knew what had happened. The girl had pushed herself. She’d decided to give chase, but now, with a quarter mile left, she’d run out of everything. The expression on Brandy’s face said that she knew it, too. Catching the leader seemed unlikely. And worse, the third-place runner, another Samson girl, was closing in. If Brandy totally crashed, she’d be caught.

Then, somewhere in the back of her mind, Sabrina heard her mother’s voice. “Brandy needs you. Encourage her.” Sabrina cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed as loud as she could. “Go Brandy, push. You can do it. Dig deep!”

Brandy’s face flicked in her direction for just a moment, but the instant their eyes locked, Sabrina saw the girl’s expression change. It went from the “beat down, about to give up” look to a clenched-teeth determination. She straightened and leaned forward, and her arms began to pump a little harder, her legs continuing to keep the pace. Five yards to the leader became four. “Go, Brandy, go. You can do it!”

“Go, Shelby, go. Push! Push!” Kayla Ratcliff’s voice came from just a few feet before the finish line. She was leaning forward, clapping and motioning toward her runner.

“Go, Brandy. You can do it!” Sabrina just kept shouting the words over and over and over. “You can do it, you can do it!” She couldn’t seem to stop herself.

Koen was shouting at the top of his lungs, too. “Push! Keep pushing!”

Brandy seemed to stumble but regained her footing yet a little bit further behind her competitor. And then she did something that Sabrina had never seen her do before. Something she’d never seen anyone do, other than the footage she’d seen of Eric Liddell. She threw her head back, face to the sky, and surged forward with one last burst of speed. She leaned forward at the finish line, falling forward on the asphalt in the split second after she crossed.

The first woman.

The world around Brandy blurred in clear waves and a sort of milky haze. She was unable to move, unable to think. There were only three words that her mind could fathom at that moment. I. Did. It. I did it.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of her brain, there was enough conscious thought left to remind her that she needed to get out of the way before she got trampled, but there was no way she could stand up. She just couldn’t move. That’s when she felt strong arms lifting her and she found herself floating off the race course.

The movement made her nauseous and she thought for a moment she might vomit. She looked toward the source of her forward progression and saw a cute guy smiling down at her, a really huge smile. It didn’t make sense. Then slowly she realized who was carrying her. Koen.

As her brain cleared, she noticed the bouncing head at his shoulder and began to hear and understand the words that had been only unintelligible noise until now. “You did it. You did it. I knew you could. I knew you could.” Sabrina had tears flowing down her face.

As soon as Koen set Brandy on a bench, Sabrina was sitting beside her with her arms around her. She was sobbing. And then Brandy started crying, too, although she couldn’t remember why.

“Oh my sweet darling, you won. You won!” Grandma’s voice came from somewhere nearby. Brandy reached out her arms and hugged her grandmother around the waist, since she still didn’t trust herself to stand. She was taking huge gulping breaths, but her body couldn’t seem to get enough air.

Then little by little, her mind began to function and her breathing began to slow. She looked over at Sabrina, who by now had calmed down, but still had tears running down her cheeks.

“I didn’t think you were going to come.”

Sabrina shook her head. “I was wrong. And I’m so glad I changed my mind so I could see this. You are amazing.”

“You told me to plan my race so that when I crossed the finish line I didn’t have even one ounce of energy left. Nailed that one to perfection today.”

Sabrina laughed. “Maybe a little too perfect.”

Brandy took a sip of water and looked around her. She could see the Samson Academy contingent gathering nearby. She nodded her head toward them. “How’d they do?”

“Second and third in the girls, first and fourth in the boys,” Koen said.

“I think I’ll go over there and congratulate them.” Brandy stood up and tested her legs. She made her way over to find the girl that she’d barely beat out at the finish and extended her hand. “Good race.”

“Thanks.” The girl shook her hand, but scowled as she did so.

Brandy shook the hand of the other three girls in the group, as well. Then she came to Kayla Ratcliff. “I heard you speak at our school.”

Kayla smiled. “I hope I was an inspiration to you.”

“Maybe you might have been.” She paused long enough to see the surprise register on Kayla’s face. “Before you tell people your story for inspiration, you might want to check your facts. I can’t be inspired by someone who tells people she lost her scholarship to a slacker, when I happen to know that you lost your scholarship to a person with a lifelong, crippling disease. Thing is, she’s the one with the lifetime problem, but you’re the one so bitter you can’t even see the truth about what happened. Maybe you should think about that before your next talk.”

Brandy turned and walked back to her group, which had expanded. A man and woman were talking to Sabrina. They didn’t look familiar, but Sabrina seemed happy enough to see them. They were smiling and talking and gesturing. When Brandy approached, Sabrina said, “Here she is. Allow me to introduce Brandy Philip. Brandy, this is Coach Watkins and Coach Sheridan, from the University of Tennessee track team. They came to see the young talent at the race and wanted to meet you.”

“Young lady, that was an amazing race you ran out there today.”

“Thank you.”

“We were just telling Sabrina we’d love to have her come back and visit sometime. It would be great if you came with her. We could show you around the facilities and talk about what your college aspirations might be.”

College aspirations? Until this very moment, Brandy had never had any. “Really? Uh . . .” Brandy looked at the pride on her grandmother’s face and the peace on Sabrina’s. “That sounds good. I’d like that.”

“Good.” Coach Watkins reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card. “You feel free to call or email with any questions, and we’ll be in touch soon.”

“Sounds good.” And it did. Who would have guessed that one?

Sabrina rummaged through the back of her closet until she found what she was looking for. The brown box had been stuck back in the corner, undisturbed, for the past three years. She wasn’t sure why she’d even brought it here, because she had never planned to open it. Just as she’d never planned to remove her journals, she supposed. She pulled it out, opened the lid, and removed the contents.

“I know you must be proud of Brandy’s finish today.” Nana came into the room, all smiles.

“I am. I can’t believe that she pulled it out the way she did.”

“What are you getting into over there?” She moved closer. When she saw the contents of the box, she smiled. “Reminiscing?”

“More like remembering.” She unfurled her favorite poster of Eric Liddell. It was black and white, and showed him head thrown back and arms outstretched, the number 451 across his chest. Just the sight of it again after these past few years brought tears to her eyes. But they weren’t tears of sadness, not completely anyway. They were so much more than that.

“Would you mind if I hung a couple of posters on the wall in here? I’ll use some of that tape that doesn’t damage walls.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for the last three years.”

Sabrina smiled at her. “I hate to admit it, but maybe you and Mom have been right about a few things.”

“Ha. At least a couple, I’d say.”

Sabrina rummaged through the box and found the DVD at the bottom. “Hey, Nana, would you mind if I invited Brandy over to watch Chariots of Fire after dinner tonight?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”

“She’ll probably hate the movie, but she needs to see it. At least once.”