Chasing Hope (13 page)

S
abrina awoke, happy to have slept in her own bed again. She wanted to hurry and get to school a little early. Even though they’d talked multiple times, she hadn’t seen Koen in several days and she missed him.

She made her way to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
Oh no.
The pimple from yesterday was back, and it looked worse. She leaned closer to get a better look. This seemed more like a blister or an infected sore. Strange. And gross. And why now?

A few minutes later, she went downstairs and found Nana sitting at the breakfast table.

“Morning, dear. It’s good to have you back home again.”

“It’s good to be back.” They chatted about the trip and how the interview went as Sabrina poured herself a glass of milk, Nana positive as always. Sabrina grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and then settled herself at the table.

“Well, Sabrina, what happened to your nose?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird, isn’t it? I must have scratched it or something.”

Nana leaned closer and looked over the top of her glasses. “I do believe you’ve got a case of impetigo. Haven’t seen it in years, but I’m sure that’s what it is.”

“Impetigo?”

Nana shrugged. “A skin infection that pops up on the side of the nose—happens a lot to kids. Best I remember, you put some Neosporin on it and it’ll clear up.”

“Hmm.” Sabrina reached up and felt the blisters on the side of her nose. “Hopefully it will clear up fast.”

“Doesn’t take too long, best I remember.”

Sabrina hoped she was right.

She did her best to minimize the apparent damage with a liberal application of Neosporin and some makeup. Not a great way to start her day, but things could only go up from there.

When she arrived, a little less early than she’d hoped, to psych class, she immediately spotted Koen on the back row of the stadium-style classroom. Since the doors were in the back of the class, he would have no idea she’d entered the room. He was leaning forward, talking to one of his friends in the next row until they both erupted in laughter. Sabrina started toward him and just then he turned. He rewarded her with his most winning grin, and reached over and turned the chair beside him out to face her.

“Attached chairs make it impossible to be a gentleman in this particular case. I hope you’ll accept my best attempt.”

She slid into the offered seat and noticed again just how perfectly his blond hair swept across his forehead and framed his perfect face. “I’ll take it.”

“I’m saying you’re not allowed to go away for the weekend again. It’s far too boring here without you. I’m beginning to find out that my guys just aren’t as much fun as they used to be.”

“Are you saying you prefer me to Jared?” Koen’s best friend
was a hulking, adorable goof-off that was universally loved across campus. “Wow, I think I’m flattered.”

“And you should be.” He reached over and tucked a stray hair behind Sabrina’s ear. “And speaking of Jared, he is having everyone over on Saturday to watch March Madness. I told him we’d bring the chips and some two-liters. So, I’ll pick you up around two. Okay?”

Sabrina hesitated. She knew that the Tennessee men’s basketball team was playing in Saturday’s game. “I . . . uh, well, I’m not sure. I want to, it’s just that I think I might be helping my grandmother with some yard work on Saturday afternoon.”

He cocked his head, looked at her for a minute, then nodded slowly. “I see.” He turned toward the front of the classroom and shook his head a single time, as if just figuring something out.

“What? What do you see?”

“I guess I’ve been taking a little too much for granted here. Sabrina, if you don’t want to see me anymore then just say so.”

“No, that’s not what I mean at all, it’s simply that I . . .” She started to try to explain her way out of it, but she knew it was a flimsy excuse. She supposed she could tell him that she didn’t like to watch basketball on TV, but that sounded even weaker. “I . . .”

He was looking at her, waiting for an answer. His expression clearly said that he wouldn’t believe her, no matter what sort of excuse she came up with.

“I just meant that, you know, my grandmother has been wanting to get her vegetable garden started, and since I was out of town last weekend, I don’t want to just leave her to do it all herself. Maybe I could meet up with you later, huh?” And there it was. The brilliant idea that would solve her problems. She would stay busy until the game was over, then join them at Jared’s.

“Really? That’s really all it is?”

“Of course. I can’t wait to spend some time with you that
doesn’t involve studying or quick bites of dinner between studying.”

“I have to admit, you scared me there for a minute.” He smiled again, just enough to show his dimple. “Hey, I’ve got an even better idea. What if I come over a little early and help the two of you? Since I grew up on a farm, I make quick work of vegetable gardens. Then we’ll be able to go over to Jared’s together in time for the game.”

Great. Just great. Sabrina knew that if she refused now, it would be a direct slap to Koen. So she took a deep breath, and in spite of everything that she did not like about his plan, she simply smiled and said, “What a wonderful idea.”

“Okay everyone, game starts in sixty seconds. Get your boo-tays inside.” Jared’s booming voice not only caught the attention of the twenty-some-odd college kids present, but likely was heard by the neighbors across the parking lot, and maybe even the Quick Mart on the other side of the street.

Sabrina began to panic when Koen pulled on her hand. “Let’s hurry inside and get a good seat. Last time I ended up on the floor, and believe me, Jared’s carpet is something I don’t care to be up close and personal with ever again.”

“Uh, why don’t you go on inside. I’ll stay out here and make sure they don’t need any help.”

“Hey, Jar, you need any help out here?” Koen called over to his friend.

“Nope. I’m going inside to watch the game. I’ll fire up the grill just before halftime.”

Koen smiled at her. “There you have it. No help needed here.” He tugged her toward the sliding door that led from Jared’s patio
area to his living room, and before Sabrina could think of another protest, she was seated on the couch beside Koen, front and center for TV viewing.

A couple of announcers in dark sports coats and ties were talking about the upcoming game and the match-ups at point guard. Sabrina turned away from the screen, trying to find anything else at all to focus on. The carpet was dark brown shag, and looked as though it might have been installed when these apartments were built—some fifty years ago. The walls were probably painted white—it was hard to say for sure with probably a decade’s worth of smudges and scrapes. Several posters hung around the room—a guy flying through the air on a dirt bike, jet skis sending up a spray of water, and a couple of bikini-clad girls on a sunset beach. Jared’s popularity, plus the location of this townhouse unit with its large backyard, made this the gathering spot for most notable social occasions for Jared’s circle of friends, in spite of the run-down condition of the place.

“Tip-off time. Yeah!” A large athletic-looking boy who was sitting in one of the vinyl recliners thrust his hand in the air. “Come on, Tennessee.” A chorus of cheers and general agreement sounded around the room as the game was ready to commence.

Sabrina turned toward the television just in time to see the flash of orange jersey, as the center reached higher than his opponent and knocked the ball toward his teammate. In a flash, the men in orange worked their way down the court, passing it a few times, before the ball whipped to number 33 just outside the three-point line. He rose up for a shot and nailed it. Everyone cheered and instantly the TV went to replay, this time zooming in on the shooter as he released.

Sam.

They had shared a couple of classes freshman year. Although
friends
might be too strong of a word, they had studied together
and run in a similar circle of friends. The sight of him now, wearing the colors that were so familiar . . .

Sabrina turned her attention to the window, its metal casing even grimier than the glass, and began to concentrate on her breathing. This was the one thing that had remained useful past her running years. Breath control could get you through seemingly unendurable pain.

The room erupted into cheers. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Sabrina didn’t look back to the TV; it wasn’t necessary. She looked at some birds perched on the electrical wire just outside the window and started counting them.
One, two, three, four
, one flew away but another two landed,
five, six, seven, eight
, but wait, had she already counted that one?

“Oh man, did you see that?” Koen leaned toward the TV. “I can’t believe that, can you?”

Sabrina looked at him. “Huh? Oh, no, I sure can’t.”

“Miss Rice, are you daydreaming out the window? In the middle of the game?” Koen grinned at her, and it took every bit of her inner strength to smile back.

“Uh, guilty, I guess.”

“You better play closer attention, because there’ll be a quiz at halftime.” He put his arm on the couch behind her and turned his attention back to the game.

Somehow she managed to stare blankly at the TV, send her thoughts elsewhere, and mostly ignore what was happening in the game. She focused her attention on Koen sitting this close, on how right it felt to have him near. This worked pretty well until the band started playing “Rocky Top.” The sound of the fight song that was so much a part of her past broke through the last of her strength. She jumped up from the couch, mumbled something about coming right back, and bolted from the room to the backyard.

She made it around the far corner to the side yard before she lost the battle to blink back the tears. There, standing in the narrow area between the fence and the side of the building, sharing the space with a large recycling container and two trash cans, she leaned against the wall.
Get a grip, Sabrina. Get it now!
Through sheer force of will, she somehow regained her composure within the course of the first minute, maybe two.

She stared at the beige paint on the wood fence separating this backyard from the one beside it, feeling stronger with each breath. All she needed to do now was to formulate an excuse to give Koen about what had happened. She got the sudden urge to see the sky? She was claustrophobic? She couldn’t think of one single plausible explanation that didn’t make her sound like she was a nervous and emotional wreck—which she more or less was, she supposed.

Might as well go face it. She pushed away from the wall and turned toward the backyard. Maybe she’d tell him she thought she’d left her cell phone out here and had come to look for it. It was a weak excuse at best, but it was all she had. Yes, that might work. She rounded the corner, thinking through details she could add to make it more believable.

“Hello there.” Koen was leaning against the wall on the other side of the corner, his arms folded across his chest, his left foot propped against the building.

“Hi.” Sabrina stopped walking and stared down at her feet. “Sorry about running out like that. I thought I’d left my cell phone out here, so I came looking for it.”

“You thought you’d left your cell phone on the recycling bins?”

“Well, sometimes I—”

“Sabrina.” He cupped her chin with his left hand, lifting her head until she had no choice but to look at him. His perfect face, his complete and utter perfection in all things . . . She tried to pull away but he held her. “It’s time that you told me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing really. I’m sorry I interrupted everything. . . . Please, let’s go enjoy the game with your friends. We can talk about it later.”

“No, I want to talk about it now.” He reached down and took her hand, then led her back through the side yard, out the gate, and around to the front of the apartment complex. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“But you’ll miss the game.”

“Doesn’t matter. Now start talking.”

The humiliation of what she had to tell him was almost more than she could bear, but she supposed it was best to just get it done. “I’ve known since I was twelve that I wanted to be an Olympic runner. . . .” Once she started, the story just tumbled out of her until there was nothing left to say, no tears left to cry. Just nothing. Or so she thought.

“I think you left out a few details.” His voice was soft.

Sabrina looked at him, sniffling. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t mention breaking any records. I happen to know for a fact that you broke several.”

Sabrina planted her feet on the sidewalk, too stunned to keep moving. “How do you know that?”

He ducked his head and grinned. “I . . . uh . . . sort of Googled you last week.”

“You what?”

He shrugged and looked at her. “You were so secretive about everything, but it was more than obvious that there was some sort of weirdness with you and running. When I finally couldn’t take the not knowing anymore, I decided to do some Internet creeping.”

“So you knew everything already?”