Chasing Hope (6 page)

S
abrina looked into the mirror for the dozenth time. Unfortunately, nothing had changed. Not only was she tired from getting up that morning to coach Brandy, but her hair was a complete wreck and her jeans were too tight. She turned sideways to look in the mirror at the stomach pooch she had developed recently. In the three years since she’d stopped running, she had gained weight, but this was different. It didn’t make sense—she hadn’t been eating more than usual. Maybe it was just the last vestige of her former self slipping away. No more washboard abs, just her metabolism slowing from a sprint to a crawl.

Great. Just great.

She walked down the stairs, wishing she’d thought up an excuse not to go tonight. No, that wasn’t true. She wanted to go out with Koen more than anything, it was just that the whole thing was so out of her control—and that drove her crazy. Running had been in her control. Her grades were under her control. The upcoming job interview was under her control to at least
some degree. But whether or not Koen liked her, or was bored out of his mind tonight, well, she didn’t know what to do to control that.

“Don’t you look nice.” Nana was sitting in the living room, knitting a pink blanket for the neighbor’s new daughter. “What’s this young man like?” Sabrina sighed and sat down on the ottoman at her grandmother’s feet. “Perfect. Amazing. And way out of my league.”

“Hmm, somehow I doubt that. You’re in a league all by yourself.”

“Spoken like a true grandmother.” Sabrina smiled at her, thankful for the unconditional love shown by both her grandmother and her mother. They were the two people she could always count on for support.

Dingdong.

Sabrina felt the doorbell all the way down into her stomach. She stood up and started for the door, her legs a bit wobbly.
This is stupid. You see the guy almost every day. You studied with him just two nights ago. Relax, you freak!
Sabrina pulled open the door, hoping her face didn’t reveal the level of sudden panic she felt.

And there he stood, smiling at her. The dark blue shirt he was wearing made his eyes look all that much brighter, his white-blond hair that much lighter. His grin was just a trifle lopsided, causing his dimple to stand out. He looked even better than his usual level of perfection. “Hey.” He just looked at her and waited for a response.

“Uh, hey. Come on in, I’ll just get my jacket.” She walked into the living room and picked up her jacket from the chair where she’d laid it. “Nana, this is Koen Conner. Koen, this is my grandmother.”

Nana stood to her feet and stuck out her hand toward him. “Louise Springer, nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Springer.”

He turned his charming smile on Nana, who nodded her approval. “You two have a nice time this evening.”

“Oh, I’m sure we will.” He turned toward Sabrina. “You ready?”

Nana, behind him now, widened her eyes and gave Sabrina the OK signal with her fingers. Koen must have caught the general direction of Sabrina’s smile because he turned around to see what she was looking at. Thankfully, Nana pulled her hand down just in time and sat back in her seat, looking every bit the innocent grandmother.

They walked out the door and down the sidewalk toward Koen’s beat-up white pickup truck. He held the passenger side door open for Sabrina. “Ma’am.” Oh, he was adorable.

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of Jerry’s Lakeside Grill. It was a local favorite, with casual American fare, cozy fireplaces situated throughout the dining room, and one entire wall of windows providing amazing views of the lake. Even now, in mid-February, with the surrounding trees bare of leaves, the setting was beautiful.

Koen walked up to the hostess. “Reservation for Conner.”

The hostess looked down her list. “Ah yes. Let me go make certain your table is ready.”

“Sabrina? So nice to see you again so soon.”

Sabrina turned to find Coach Thompson and his wife standing just behind them. “Nice to see you, too.” She quickly introduced Koen to everyone.

“I have to say, Brandy has proven to be an even better runner than I imagined her to be. I’m glad you talked me into giving her a shot. I just hope she can hold up her end of the bargain.”

“So do I.” Sabrina started to tell him about that morning’s workout and the bursts of speed she’d seen displayed over and
over again, but Koen’s presence made her think better of it. She didn’t want to try to explain any of this to him. “Maybe she’ll surprise all of us.”

“Well, she’ll have you to thank if she’s able to pull it off.”

Koen had stood quietly listening to the entire conversation, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He looked at Coach Thompson. “How is it that you and Sabrina came to know each other?”

“I’m the cross-country coach at the local high school.” He added no more, clearly expecting that this tidbit would be information enough for Koen to understand the connection.

“Okay, so how does that—”

“Right this way.” Sabrina had never been more happy to see the hostess approach with a couple of menus in her hands.

Whew.

The hostess led them to a table by the window. “Ronie’s your waitress, she’ll be right with you.” She put two menus on the table. “Enjoy.”

“So, I’m confused. Tell me again how it is you know Coach Thompson. I get that he’s the high school cross-country coach, but you didn’t go to high school here, right? What’s that got to do with you?”

“No, I didn’t go to school here.” Sabrina was frantically scrambling for an explanation that fell shy of lying but didn’t come near the full truth. “I . . . uh . . . well, you remember that girl we saw running from campus security that day? Gazelle Girl?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were squinted in concentration.

“Well, I told Coach Thompson about her and he decided to give her a chance. On next fall’s cross-country team.”

“O-kaaaay . . . but that begs some more questions, like how do you know him in the first place? And why would he take your advice about something like that?”

This was not going the way Sabrina wanted this night to go.
Not at all. And there was no way she was going to spill everything right now, right here. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Hello, my name’s Ronie and I’ll be your waitress this evening. Can I start you off with something to drink? An appetizer maybe?”

Once again, Sabrina felt immense gratitude for the interruption. This was bound to be her last reprieve, she knew that. She’d have to come up with a new subject and take the offensive as soon as the waitress left the table. “Water for me, please.”

“Coke, please.”

As soon as Ronie turned to leave, Sabrina said, “So, let’s talk about you. I know you grew up on a farm. What does your family raise?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were deliberately changing the subject.”

“Good thing you know better. Now, let’s see, is it soybeans?”

He leaned forward, putting his chin in his hand. “You are a mysterious woman, that’s what you are. I’m thinking it’s going to take a little bit of digging to get to the bottom of your story.”

“Believe me, it’s not particularly interesting.”

He reached over with his free hand and put it on top of hers. “I’ll be the judge of that. It may take me a little time, but I think you’re stuck with me for a bit while I get it all figured out.”

Ah, and there was the best reason of all not to tell him anything. Sabrina couldn’t help but smile.

B
randy’s timing couldn’t have been better. She’d rounded the street corner just as Sabrina was stepping out of a lame beater pickup and walked to the front door with the driver, who left soon after. Brandy assumed it was a date, but it was too dark to say for sure. After Sabrina went inside, Brandy crept closer to the house, staying hidden in the shadows. She wasn’t totally sure why she was there. Just something about this girl seemed off.

When the coast seemed clear, she crept up to the house, careful to open the gate slowly. Squeaking hinges and stealth never went well together. Any normal person would have just picked up the phone, or rung the bell, or would have asked the question during training that morning. Normal probably wouldn’t get answers though, so Brandy opted for a different plan.

She came around into the dark backyard and looked through the windows. Brandy didn’t know what kind of activity she was watching for, just something that would tell her what was the deal
with Sabrina. A sign of some sort. A flash of movement near the back door drew her attention.

Sabrina appeared in the kitchen. She’d changed into pajamas and pulled her hair back in a messy bun. Brandy watched as she filled a glass of water from the faucet and finished the whole thing in three straight gulps. She rubbed the back of her neck, then refilled the glass and reached down into a drawer and started fishing around for something.

For a second, Brandy thought about leaving. This was just a college girl getting ready for bed, but then she saw what Sabrina had pulled from the drawer. A pill bottle. She pried it open, shook two into her palm, popped them into her mouth, and followed them with a gulp of water. She repeated this process twice more.

Pills? Could be anything. Brandy moved even closer, as if somehow she might discover the truth about Sabrina in the identity of those pills.

She was only a yard away from the house. Dark though it was outside, a direct look out of the window carried the chance that she would be seen. She made sure to stay out of the light that spilled from the inside.

Once again, Sabrina reached down for something on the counter. Brandy couldn’t help herself and moved closer.

This time, Sabrina came up holding a half-full syringe. She held it up to the overhead light, flicked it with her fingers a few times to dislodge air bubbles, then bent over, presumably to inject it into her leg.

So it was drugs! So much for the goody-two-shoes her grandmother thought this girl was. So much for what Coach Thompson thought about her. It was midnight and the girl was shooting up. Brandy stood for a moment, letting every bit of the hate she felt in that moment transfer from her being toward that window. She wondered if the glass wouldn’t crack from the force of it.

Just then Sabrina stood back up and looked at the window. Brandy took a step back, but it was too late. Sabrina jumped toward the door, and Brandy ran for all she was worth.

Sabrina pushed out the door, ran through the backyard, and out through the still-open gate. By the time she reached the end of the driveway she had no idea which direction Brandy might have run. Without pausing to think about it, she decided she’d take the fifty-fifty odds, turned right, and continued running. By the time she got to the end of the block, she’d seen no sign of Brandy, and by then it didn’t matter. She couldn’t have continued under any circumstances.

She turned and started walking back toward the house. With each step, barbs of pain shot through her right knee. Why had she run after that girl again? Any sane person would have learned a lesson the first time. She reached down and rubbed her knee. It was still extra puffy and this little escapade was sure to increase that. She limped back toward the house, vowing not to do this again.

Wednesday morning, if Brandy bothered to show up, Sabrina was going to lay down some ground rules. The first one would be something like “Absolutely no stalking.” What did that girl want, anyway? It was creepy, that’s what it was.

“You’re limping.” The voice came from behind her.

Sabrina whirled around and saw Brandy sitting on Nana’s retaining wall in the shadows. She had her legs crossed and was leaning back on the well-manicured lawn.

“Why are you stalking me?”

Brandy shrugged and jumped down. “I’m just trying to figure some things out.”

“Like what? It might be easier for both of us if you just asked me.”

“Yeah, well, asking someone is not always the way to get a truthful answer, that much I know for sure.”

“And lurking outside people’s windows works better for you?” Sabrina sat on the steps to her grandmother’s porch and rubbed her knee.

“How long you been using?”

Sabrina looked up. “Huh?”

“You heard me. How long have you been using?”

“Using what?”

“Oh come on, I saw you. You took a bunch of pills and then you injected yourself with something. Don’t tell me you don’t know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean, you just don’t know what you saw.”

“Pssh. I knew I was wasting my time trying to get straight answers out of you.” Brandy turned and started back toward the street, shaking her head and muttering something as she went.

“Brandy, wait. Come back and I’ll tell you.”

“Right.” She didn’t bother to turn, or even stop walking.

“Keep going if you want, but I’m telling you this is your one and only chance. Walk away now and you’ll never get the answer to any of it.”

She stopped, turned, and walked back in a slow, jaunty strut. “All right then, let’s have it.”

“You might want to sit down for this. It’s kind of a long story.” Sabrina scooted over to make room on the steps.

Brandy didn’t move. “I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.” Sabrina wondered where to begin the story. Brandy wouldn’t care about what came before, about all the years of hard work and sacrifice for the dream. “I was a runner for a long time. Pretty good at it in high school.”

“How good?”

“Good enough that I got a scholarship for track.” There was so much more that Sabrina could tell her about, state championships, record times, multiple scholarship offers, but there was no reason to give those kinds of details, and it would sound like bragging if she did.

“Where to?”

“The University of Tennessee.”

“Weird.”

“What’s weird about that?”

Brandy shook her head. “Never mind. Keep going.”

“The thing was, a scholarship to me was just like a paving stone on the path to the place I really wanted to go, which was the Olympics. For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to run the Olympic marathon someday. Since they don’t even allow teenagers in most marathons, and it’s generally considered a bad idea for younger people to run that far, I started cross-country in high school. Again, just another interlocking stone.”

“So, why aren’t you still at Tennessee?”

Sabrina’s mind began to travel down a path she didn’t want it to follow. The roaring of the Tennessee River running past the campus after a big rain, the musty smell of her dorm room, the cookouts in the quad. “I . . . uh . . . well.” She blinked back the memories, wanting to stop them all. “During the summer before I started, I upped my training. I wanted to prove to everyone that I had earned my spot on the team. I wanted to be the fastest freshman runner in UT history. So I pushed myself. Hard. Really hard. Close to the end of the summer, I was actually gaining time instead of losing it because my knees hurt so bad. My mother took me to the sports medicine doctor and he told me I needed to rest for a couple of weeks. Needless to say, that’s the last thing I wanted to do right before school started,
but at this point, the pain was bad enough that I didn’t have much choice.”

Sabrina remembered sitting in her bed, ice packs on both knees, reading books on running, and most of all, reading biographies on her hero, Eric Liddell. God had called him to run. He’d won the Olympic gold medal and then gone off to China to be a missionary. A path almost identical to Sabrina’s own plan. She wouldn’t tell Brandy that part of the story.

“When I arrived on campus, I was still in pain—in fact, it had gotten worse, not better—and I hadn’t trained in two weeks. My times kept lengthening and the pain . . .” She swallowed back the memory. “They packed me in ice, gave me lots of anti-inflammatories. I tried to push through it because that’s what you do with pain. You push through. But the first few meets of the season, my times were worse than any of my times had been my junior or senior year in high school.”

Brandy grew still during the telling, began nodding her head and staring off into space. “What’d your new teammates think about that?” She sort of whispered the question.

“Most of them were nice enough about it. But, I mean, all runners have aches and pains, so I don’t think they really gave me much credit for truly trying. There were a few people . . . let’s just say, they delighted in letting me know that I was a failure.” Sabrina put her hand to her forehead, trying to stop the flashes of her life that kept appearing in her mind.

“So what happened? You turned to pain-killers and got addicted and that’s why you left?”

Sabrina shook her head. “I don’t use drugs in the way that you think of using drugs.”

“Don’t give me that. I saw you.”

“I . . . the doctors had a hard time reaching a definitive diagnosis about me for a long time. My blood work never really
showed anything conclusive, and I didn’t have a lot of swelling in my joints. Everyone had come to believe it was just overuse, or my whining, depending on your point of view. When I came home for Thanksgiving break, I mentioned to my mom that my shoulders and elbows were hurting, to the point that they sometimes woke me up at night. She’s actually the one who put all the pieces of the puzzle together. She got on the phone that morning to my doctor and arranged for me to see a rheumatologist.”

“A what-a-whata?”

“It’s a doctor that specializes in rheumatic diseases like lupus, and scleroderma, and. . . . rheumatoid arthritis. Long story short . . . after several months, lots of MRIs, X rays, blood tests, and every other imaginable test, they finally diagnosed me with probable rheumatoid arthritis.”

“Arthritis. Grandma has that. You’re just making this up.”

Sabrina shook her head. “I’m not. It’s a different type. They call it juvenile rheumatoid arthritis when a kid has it, and even really young kids do get it.”

“And that’s what you’ve got?”

She nodded. “I have dry arthritis, which is an unusual type. Unfortunately, it took long enough to diagnose that I have permanent damage to my knees and hips, so I’m not able to run because we don’t want to damage what is left. You didn’t see me taking drugs, you saw me taking medication. Lots of it. Anti-inflammatories to help with pain and inflammation, medicine to protect my stomach from the anti-inflammatories, a couple of different immune suppressants.”

“Immune suppressants?”

“The kind of arthritis I have is when my body attacks my own joints like it would an invading virus or bacteria. They have to give me medication to stop that or my joints will be destroyed.
Unfortunately, it makes me prone to get sick easily. I’ve had a weird cold off and on for a month now.”

“So you lost your scholarship because you couldn’t run anymore?”

Sabrina almost said,
I lost everything because I couldn’t run anymore,
but she managed to choke out a simple yes instead.

Brandy reached down and picked up a piece of gravel from the edge of the garden. She twirled it between her thumb and forefinger, staring at it as if hoping it contained the answer. Finally, she dropped it and looked up at Sabrina. “I guess I misjudged you.”

Sabrina shrugged. “You’re in good company.”

“I’ve never heard my grandmother mention anything about it.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t know. It’s just easier not to talk about it.”

“Yeah.” Brandy shook her head. “I know about that.” She took in a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “Why did you ask Coach Thompson to give me a chance? Any fool could see that you don’t like me.”

“No, I don’t.” Sabrina pulled her knee into her chest and then straightened it back out. “Not yet at least. But I saw you running from campus security the day before our dinner. I saw how fast you could run, and that’s a gift. I guess I don’t want to waste it. That talent . . . it could take you anywhere you want to go, and you’re on the verge of throwing it all away.”

Brandy glared at her. “Yeah, well maybe a lot of people misjudge me, too. You included.”

“You’ve got the next few weeks to prove that.” Sabrina wondered if she would. Somehow, she rather doubted it.