There were two days before the big race, and Abby was in a rush. The bell signaling the end of school had just rung, and she was determined to get away before the running team began practice. She had seen or heard nothing of Margaret all day, and she preferred to keep it that way. Before most of her class had finished packing their things, Abby was already out the door.
She headed for the library. Before her stint with the running team, Abby had spent nearly every afternoon hidden among the shelves of the local library, often for several hours at a time. So frequent were her visits in fact, that the librarian, Ms. Lesen, knew her by name.
"Back again I see," said Ms. Lesen as Abby passed the circulation desk.
"Yeah," said Abby, smiling as row upon row of enticing books now came into view, "and a good thing, too."
She quickly found an old favorite, and settled into an arm-chair to read. She was not long at it, however, when the last person she wanted to see appeared.
"You got here really fast," said Margaret, whose voice came from behind Abby's chair. Abby froze for a moment, then wheeled around.
The sight shocked her. Margaret approached gingerly on crutches, her usual confident stride an awkward hobble. Her expression seemed to Abby like a deflated balloon.
"Oh Margaret, what happened?" asked Abby incredulously. Margaret was the best athlete in the school.
"I got injured," she said simply. "The doctor said I was pushing myself too hard in training, and wants me to begin physical therapy." She hobbled to a seat, trying to sit down. She struggled to do so, and Abby rose and held her by the arm. She managed to get settled.
"Thanks," said Margaret, looking embarrassed.
"Of course," said Abby.
A moment passed between them. Abby felt the silence extremely awkward, but continued to say nothing, and avoided Margaret's glance. Margaret seemed to do the same.
Finally, Margaret said, "Abby, I can't run on Saturday." She paused. "I tried to jog yesterday, but the pain was too much." She paused. "I thought maybe you could take my place."
So that was it, thought Abby, that's why she's come. Her mind began to spin in a swirl of conflicting emotions. There seemed no good place to begin.
"As I recall, it was you who kicked me off the team," said Abby, a dull anger growing inside her. The words seemed, once spoken, to inflame the feeling all the more, like a bellow which breathes fresh life into a dying fire.
"I know, but now things are different," said Margaret.
"You forced my new friends to choose between me and you," continued Abby, as though Margaret had not spoken. She began to shake inside.
"I know, it was hard, but it had to be done," said Margaret, fear creeping into voice.
"And you misled everyone when you said only seven runners could enter the race," said Abby with finality.
"What?" asked Margaret.
"You said only seven runners could enter the race," said Abby. "But I read the rules, and it says you only need seven to enter the race. Up to 15 runners per team are allowed to compete."
Margaret opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She was lost for words.
"And I know you knew this," said Abby, "because you've always been a stickler for rules in sport. You've always, in my understanding, been the leading authority in the school."
"I--I, I didn't know," stuttered Margaret, utterly in shock.
Abby just stared at Margaret, fire in her eyes.
"Okay, you're right, I did know about the rule," said Margaret. "The truth is, I was afraid you were going to beat me in the race."
Abby's gaze softened. "Beat you?" she said, "You're the fastest runner in the school!"
"I thought I was," said Margaret, "But then when you were able to keep up on all the runs, no matter how hard I tried to break you, I realized you were actually really good. When Jutta suddenly got better, I thought maybe I could keep you from running so I could win." She paused for a moment. "But now I can't even walk, let alone run. I trained my hardest, but I didn't get faster. I got injured."
Poor Margaret, thought Abby. "But you will get better, yes?" she said.
"The doctor said in three weeks," said Margaret, "but I still can't run the race."
"Well, that's okay," said Abby, now with a smile. "There will be other races. You just have to get better."
"I'm really sorry," said Margaret. "I know I'm really competitive, and sometimes I can get pretty jealous."
"Oh Margaret," said Abby, "I was dying on all those runs. You're a great runner."
"So are you," said Margaret, now smiling as well. "And if you're willing, there's no one I would rather have take my place in the big race."
Abby thought for a moment. "Well," she said, "it's been a few days since I last ran, but my legs are feeling a lot better. I guess I could give it a try.
"You'll do great," said Margaret. "And the team will be really happy to see you again; they miss you a lot."
"I missed them," said Abby.
"Okay, I have to go," said Margaret, struggling to her feet. "My mom is waiting outside to take me to PT. I'll see you on Saturday?"
"Yes, on Saturday," repeated Abby.
"Good," said Margaret. "And Abby?" Margaret asked as she headed for the exit.
"Yes?" said Abby.
"Thanks."
"For what?" asked Abby.
"For being a good friend, even when I didn't deserve it," said Margaret.
"Everyone deserves friendship," said Abby.
Margaret smiled, then disappeared behind a shelf.
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