Chasing Hope (5 page)

T
he courthouse was only two stories tall, but from the outside it seemed much larger. It loomed creepy and gloomy, the large dark wood doors like a mouth ready to swallow the underdogs, the unlucky, the unfortunate. Perhaps in time, after being chewed to bits, the poor suckers would be spit back out. As Brandy walked up the set of concrete steps, she realized that even though it was Friday and she was missing school, she wasn’t feeling lucky at all.

Her hands were doing that weird shaking thing, so she put them in her front pockets before Grandma could notice. She was already plenty whacked out about today as it was, no need to make it worse.

“Now remember, every time the judge speaks to you, you answer, ‘No, sir’ or ‘Yes, sir,’ stand up straight, and look him in the eye. And whatever you do, watch your language.”

“No prob. Got it handled.” Brandy tossed her head in that way she always did when she wanted to look cool. If there was one thing she’d learned in the last few years, it was that appearing
cool, acting like you couldn’t care less, mattered more than how you actually felt. Cops, weed dealers, teachers—nobody needed to know if you were nervous.

“Brandy, I’m not joking. This is serious.”

Brandy wished she were not so completely aware of that. Just last year she’d seen Lacey return from a six-month stay in juvie with her left eye set at a weird angle at the end of a long scar. Not only that, she also seemed to have gone completely off the deep end. Who knew what happened to her in that place. “Relax, Grandma. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

She pulled open a door, feeling the rush of warm air flowing out into the cold day. “After you, Grandma.” For all she knew, the judge might be nearby right now, watching. Being seen as being polite to her grandmother could not be a bad thing at this point. And the closer she got to the very real possibility of being sent away, the more she determined to do anything she could to prevent that, even if it was most likely too little too late.

Maybe it was just the heat, but as they walked further inside, the air grew heavier and heavier, thick with oppression. Several benches lined the lobby area. “Let’s sit for a minute,” she said, plopping down on the closest one without waiting for a response from her grandmother.

“Are you all right?”

“Oh sure, sure, it’s just . . . aren’t we supposed to meet Mrs. Maloney out here?” Brandy pretended to yawn, allowing her the chance to take the deep breath she desperately needed.

“No, I’m pretty sure she said she’d meet us in the courtroom.” Grandma studied her hard. Was it because she looked as though she were going to croak, or had calling her lawyer Mrs. Maloney instead of Karyn been too much of a giveaway that she was freaked out?

“Oh, okay then. Better get moving.” Brandy made it to her feet and somehow managed to move forward on numb legs.

Why hadn’t she tried a little harder this time? They promised they wouldn’t be so lenient and yet she’d blown it again. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She wanted to sit down in the middle of the floor, flail around, and cry. About everything. But tears had never saved her in the past. Now wasn’t the time to start.

Karyn Maloney was waiting just outside the chamber doors. She wore her typical black suit and black shoes, and carried a black lawyerly looking briefcase. Her color choice seemed especially appropriate today. “Oh good, you’re here. Okay, Brandy, you remember everything we’ve talked about, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Karyn lifted a gray eyebrow. “Wow, I guess you do. Good job. Now all we can do is hope the judge is in a good mood today.”

“What are the chances of that, do you think?” Grandma sounded almost hopeful.

The door swung open and two women emerged, one practically supporting the other, who was crying hysterically. “My baby, my poor baby.” She wailed and cried and repeated the same phrase all the way over to the stairs. Any other day, Brandy would have laughed. Today, it didn’t seem that funny.

Karyn turned, looked at Grandma, and said, “Apparently not as good as I had hoped.”

A glossy full-page magazine ad showed a young girl with perfectly white teeth holding up a tube of toothpaste, the words
Thank you, Mom
floating beside her in a cartoon bubble. “Too cheesy.” Sabrina turned to the next page and the next. Finally, she flipped the magazine shut and reached for the next one on the stack. The floor just outside her room creaked, so she looked up. “Hi, Nana. Come on in.”

“Doesn’t that hurt your back?” Nana stood at the doorway, simply staring at Sabrina.

“You’d be surprised—it’s really more comfortable this way.” Sabrina lay on her bed, stomach down, but with her head and shoulders sticking off the edge. She kept the magazines on the floor and used one arm to brace herself and the other to turn pages.

Nana shook her head. “I don’t know about you sometimes, girl.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it. I believe I learned that particular saying from you.”

“Well, I guess you’re right about that.” Nana came into the room and sat down at the desk chair in the corner of the room. “I just got a call from Maudie Jenkins. She asked if she and Brandy could come over for a minute. She said they have something they need to talk to us about.”

Sabrina looked at her pile of magazines and then back at her grandmother. “Do they really need to talk to me, or is it just you? I have a paper due on effective print advertising and I can’t find one I want to use. And I’ve been through several forests’ worth of magazines.”

“She specifically asked if you would be here. Do you mind?”

In fact, she really did mind. She didn’t care one little bit for Brandy, especially now that she seemed to be stalking her like some weirdo. Sabrina looked at the concern on her dear sweet grandmother’s face and knew that she would say nothing of the kind. Who knew? Maybe Brandy was coming to apologize?
Right
. “Sure. I’ll come down when I hear them at the door.”

Dingdong.

“I’d say there’s your cue, then.” Nana grinned and stood up. Her speed up and down the stairs had decreased over the last few years, so Sabrina knew she should go on ahead.

“I’ll go let them in,” she sighed and made for the stairs.

“Thanks, dear.”

Sabrina hurried down the stairs and opened the door to find Maudie dressed in a dark green suit and string of pearls, with even a touch of makeup on. Brandy had on an oversized white shirt and dark jeans, which looked positively formal compared to her usual bleach-spotted jeans and ripped wide-neck T-shirts. Her eyes were circled in the usual black eyeliner. Sabrina motioned into the house. “Please, come in. Would you like some water or tea or anything?”

Maudie shook her head as she walked past. “No need to go to the trouble. We’re not going to stay but for just a minute. There’s something we need to talk about right away.”

Brandy didn’t even look at Sabrina as she walked past. She followed her grandmother into the living room and took the farthest seat without saying anything. Maudie went over and perched on a seat near her granddaughter.

“My, my, don’t the two of you look nice.” Nana made her way into the room. “You must have come straight over from your court date. How did it go?” Her voice was soft with worry.

“Well, that’s what we came over to talk to you about. First off, Sabrina, I want to thank you for talking to that coach for Brandy.” Maudie nodded in her direction.

“You’re welcome.” Sabrina looked toward Brandy, who sat with her arms folded across her chest and stared out the window at the far side of the room.

“So, was that a help, then?” Nana asked as she sank into her usual chair.

“Yes . . . and no. The judge said that he didn’t feel two practices a week were enough of a commitment. He felt that it would be too easy for Brandy to just go through the motions long enough to get herself out of trouble.”

“I see.” Nana put her left hand up to her cheek. “What’s going
to happen, then?” She rocked back and forth in her seat, deep in thought and worry.

“Well, to make a long story short, they put in a call to that coach to see if he would be willing to train her on some other days, as well. He said he couldn’t because of other obligations.”

“Oh no.” Nana shook her head, still rocking.

“They talked about it for a while, and then the coach is actually the one who came up with another idea. He said that Sabrina would be the perfect person to do it.”

“
Me?
” Sabrina shouted the word before she could think to do otherwise. She took a moment to focus on speaking calmly before continuing. “I’m not a coach. I have no idea why he would have suggested that. Is that even legal?”

“Please, Sabrina. You are our only hope. If you agree to train her three days a week, and fill out some sort of schedule stating that she did the work each week, then the judge will okay it.”

“But—”

Maudie waved her hand. “He’s one of those judges that likes to pride himself on doing things outside the box, throwing darts in a new direction and seeing if it hits the board, he calls it.”

Which was all well and good until one of those darts collided into Sabrina. “Listen, I’d love to help, but I’m in school full time, I’ve got a job, and senior projects are coming out of my ears. I just don’t know when I would have time to do it.”

Brandy had remained motionless through the entire conversation, her face still turned toward the window. Something about her defiance, her arrogance, caused Sabrina to want to goad her just a little. “I mean, the only time I could possibly do it would be five in the morning on Wednesdays and Fridays—” she totally keyed in on Brandy now, ready for any reaction this last would cause—“and Saturdays. That’s the only time I’ve got.”

Brandy’s left shoulder flinched just the slightest, and Sabrina
counted it a victory. Of course Brandy would never consider such an early hour. Especially on the weekends.

“Oh, would you, Sabrina? That will be perfect.” The relief in Maudie’s voice was clear. “Right, Brandy?”

Sabrina gulped. There was no way the girl would go for it.

Brandy still didn’t turn. She shrugged slightly. “Whatever.”

“Oh wonderful, just wonderful. She can start tomorrow. Thank you so much, Sabrina.”

What? They were actually going to take her up on this? Sabrina hadn’t counted on that. “Uh . . . you’re welcome.” But really, how long could it last? She knew the answer. Not long. Probably not even through tomorrow.

Maudie stood up. “I’m going home right now to call them and let them know.” She reached inside her purse. “This is the contact information for Mrs. Lauderdale. She’s going to be the one monitoring your paper work, to make certain we are upholding our end of the deal. Where should Brandy meet you in the morning, Sabrina?”

More paper work? More of Brandy? Sabrina wanted to scream,
No! I can’t do this.
Instead she said, “Right here, I guess. The sidewalk in front of our house.”

“Thank you again so much. So very much.” Maudie shuffled from the room and Brandy followed her, never once making eye contact or bothering to speak.

If Brandy did show up in the morning, Sabrina would work some of the swagger out of her. If she didn’t, well, then Sabrina could forget about the whole thing with a clear conscience and watch Brandy get what was coming to her. If nothing else, this would at least be interesting.

T
he 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.