Graceful Waters

TWO MONTHS

“Ten hut,” Carey said. "All right, I know some of you are very excited, but this is formation. Parents will be arriving at approximately 1000 hours. I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. Those of you who are not expecting anyone should be in the rec room or your barracks unless you have permission from an instructor to be somewhere else."

Grace stepped into what usually was her English classroom, excited about seeing her mother after so long an absence. Her excitement quickly turned to anger when she saw the portly man standing near the window. "What's he doing here?"

"Grace, oh Grace, it's so good to see you," her mother said, rising from the chair and enveloping her in a hug. "Look at you. You cut your hair."

"They cut it for me," Grace said, glaring at the man. "I don't want him here."

"Honey, Bob asked to come," her mother said. "He cares about you."

Stepping back from her mother, Grace jammed her hands into her pockets and formed them into tight fists. "I don't want him here."

"Now, Gracie, I know we've had our problems, but things will get better," he said, moving away from the window and closer to her.

"Stay away from me," she said, backing closer to the door. "Ma, why did you bring him? You know I hate him."

"Grace, Bob and I have reconciled," her mother said.

"You've what? Are you nuts?"

"We're getting married this fall," Bob said. "Right after you come home."

Anger welled quickly within her. "No way. No way in hell I'm living with you again. Ma, you want him, fine. I'll find someplace else to live."

"Grace, please," her mother said. "Please, just sit down and let's talk, okay?"

"Sit down, Gracie."

The fists became tighter. "Don't you tell me what to do, you son of a bitch," Grace said.

"Please don't fight," her mother said, taking a tissue out of her pocketbook. "I've missed you so much, Grace. Please, come sit down and talk to me."

Grace pulled her hand out of her pocket and reached for the door handle. "Not as long as he's here."

"Where do you think you're going?" he said. "I drove almost three hours to bring your mother here."

"Then wait in the fucking car and I'll talk to my mother," she said.

"Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that?" Bob said, moving quickly to capture her wrist in a painful grip. "Now you sit your ass down and you visit with your mother."

"Bob, let her go," her mother said. "Grace, please."

Grace tried but could not help crying out in pain as he forced her down to her knees. "Let...go."

"Are you going to listen to your mother?"

Grace nodded quickly. "Yes."

“I thought this place was supposed to make you better," he said, shoving her arm away. "You're still the same smart mouth you were then."

Still kneeling, Grace rubbed her reddened wrist. "Go to hell, you son of a bitch."

Bob moved fast, his hand swinging back to catch Grace in the side of the face before she could react. Stars filled her vision when her head smacked against the painted concrete wall. "I oughta take you over my knee and spank you until you can't sit for a week," he said.

The door opened. "Excuse me, what's going on here?" Instructor Donaldson said from the doorway.

Grace slowly rose to her feet, her head pounding from the impact. "Request permission to return to my barracks, ma'am," she said, holding her sore wrist.

"Grace, please don't go," her mother said.

Her nose throbbing, Grace wiped her lip only to have her fingers come back bloody. Facing her mother, she made no attempt to stop the flow. "This doesn't bother you, does it?" she said, her eyes angry slits. "Why should it? Nothing else he does bothers you." Turning her head, she wiped her face on her short sleeve. "You want to see me next month, don't bring him. I'll never step in your home as long as he's there."

"You see what we have to put up with?" Bob said.

"Grace, come here," Donaldson said, taking a step forward into the room and putting her hand on the teen's elbow. "Mrs. Waters, please wait here."

"What? I drove almost three hours to bring her up here," Bob said.

"Just let us handle this."

"I can have the state police up here in five minutes to arrest you for striking her," Donaldson said, seeming every bit the Viking protector to Grace. "Now wait here."

Carey took a deep breath before nodding for Donaldson to open the door. Her dark eyes took in first the teary woman, then the angry man standing by the window. "Excuse me," she said. "I'm Joanna Carey, head instructor here at Sapling Hill."

"I'm Edna Waters and this is my fiancé Bob Garvey," the woman said. "Is Grace all right?"

Carey clenched her jaw, holding back the biting comment that came to her lips. "She has a bloody nose but it doesn't look like anything's broken. Mrs. Waters, would you come with me please?" The man moved away from the window. "Just Mrs. Waters," she said.

"Sit down, please," Carey said as she entered her office.

"He didn't mean to hurt her," Mrs. Waters said. "Sometimes Grace says things that-"

"A grown man just gave your teenage daughter a bloody nose," Carey interrupted. "It doesn't matter what she said." She sat down at her desk. "And the fact that you are defending your fiancé over your daughter is frankly rather sad."

"You don't understand," Mrs. Waters said. "Bob loves her. He never means to hurt her. They've been scrapping for years."

"How old was she when he first came to live with you?" Carey asked, suspicions forming in her mind.

"She was, let's see...he moved in late May and she was in tenth grade...she was fifteen. Always a difficult age for girls," the woman said.

"Was she a problem before that?"

"No," Mrs. Waters said. "She had her moments, but it was hanging around with her friends and picking up their bad habits that got her into trouble."

Certainly not your lecherous boyfriend. "Can you think of any incident that happened the summer between her sophomore and junior years?"

"No," the older woman said.

"Mrs. Waters, has Grace ever claimed to have been abused by any of your boyfriends?" Carey watched the woman's eyes flicker away.

"Why, no. She's never mentioned anything like that," Mrs. Waters said. "Has she mentioned anything to you?"

"It would explain her sudden change in behavior." Carey said, avoiding the question.

"I told you, it's her friends," Mrs. Waters said. "She thought her father could do no wrong and has always scrapped with any man that tried to take his place, but nothing has ever happened like you're trying to imply, Miss Carey."

Knowing she would never get through to the woman, Carey made a notation in Grace's folder, then closed it. "Mr. Garvey committed an act of assault against your daughter. Both the instructors and medical staff here are required by the state to report any incidents of suspected child abuse. Your standing by and doing nothing is tantamount to neglect, and as head instructor, it's my job to protect these girls. As such, any future visits by you will be done on a supervised basis, and Mr. Garvey will not be allowed on the property."

"You can't do that," Mrs. Waters protested.

"Oh yes, I can," Carey said. "The state, not you, is Grace's custodial guardian and I am in charge of this facility. If you want to visit, those are the rules."

"Can I see her now?"

"She's waiting for the nurse to come up to examine her," Carey said. "She won't be finished before visiting time is through." Carey rose from her chair. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you back to your boyfriend so he can drive you home."

"Marilyn?" Carey said as the sedan pulled out of the parking lot and the door to her office opened.

"Yes." Donaldson said. "They had a few choice words for you."

"I'm sure," Carey said, making sure the car was out of sight before turning away from the window. "I'm going to head back to my cabin and get Grace a clean shirt."

"Taking the cart?"

"No, I think I need to take a good hard run," Carey said. "And we wonder how these kids get so screwed up."

Carey rapped her knuckles against the doorframe. "I brought you a clean shirt."

"Thanks, ma'am," Grace said, taking the cotton shirt. "Are they gone?"

"Yes," Carey said, stepping into the room and sitting in the chair next to the bed. "We're barring him from coming on the property and she can only see you with supervision."

Grace sat up and pulled the bloody shirt off. "I don't want to see her," she said, reaching for the clean shirt. "Can I make it so she can't come here anymore, ma'am?"

"We can talk about it," Carey said, averting her eyes from the half-clothed teen. "Grace, I have to file an incident report on this."

"Covered," the teen said, allowing Carey to stop looking at the wall. "What good is it going to do?" She crossed her arms. "Ma'am," she added belatedly.

"It allows me to have an order issued keeping him away from you," Carey said.

"That's all I want," Grace said. "I want to be as far away from them as possible, ma'am."

"Relax with the ma'am for now," Carey said, running her finger along the edge of the teen's eyebrow. "Nice lump there. That'll smart for a few days."

"Why did she have to bring him?" Grace said, sounding far younger than she was. "Why is she marrying him?"

"You'd have to ask her that," Carey said. "And if she does marry him, you're going to have to learn to deal with it."

"I'll deal with it, all right," Grace said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'll be eighteen in a few months. I'll get my own place and the hell with her."

"That's one option," Carey said. "But it's expensive to live on your own, especially with not even a high school diploma."

"So I'll get my GED," Grace said. "It's one of my goals anyway, right?"

"It is," Carey agreed. "Your kindergarten class graduates in a month or so. Any time after that you can take the test."

"I want to take it," Grace said firmly, "I'll do whatever it takes so I don't ever have to go back and live there."

"Do you want me to check into the SATs? If you do decide to go to college, you'll need them."

"Sure."

"What happened before Instructor Donaldson entered the room?"

Grace gave a mirthless smile. "I need to spend more time in SD. Obviously I didn't move fast enough. The son of a bitch hit me. Knocked me into the wall."

"Is that how you got the bump above your eye?" Carey asked. Grace nodded. "I'll make sure they do an X-ray just to be on the safe side."

"I don't like being in the infirmary," Grace said. "My nose stopped bleeding. Can't I just go back to the cabin?"

"I wouldn't make you stay for just a bloody nose," Carey said. "But I don't want to take a chance with that bump on the head." She took a quick look around the room. "I don't like infirmaries either," she said. "I spent lots of time in one when I was a kid and it wasn't as nice as this."

"What happened?"

"You really want to know?" At Grace's nod, Carey chuckled. "All right. When I was thirteen I went to summer camp." She held up her index finger. "Just once. My parents refused to send me again."

"What happened?"

"Let's see. On day one I twisted my ankle. Once I was off crutches, I fell off the top bunk and cracked a rib. Then I leaned against the go-kart and accidentally put my hand on the exhaust manifold. I was thrown from a horse, fell out of a tree, tripped over a root during a nature walk, and caught my hair on fire during a bonfire." She was pleased to see her story had the desired effect as Grace laughed. "There were one hundred six tiles on the examination room ceiling."

"Oh that sucked," Grace said through her laughter.

"It did," Carey said. "So I know how boring it can be to sit in a place like this. Do you want me to bring you something to read?"

"You mean homework?"

"I meant a book. I have a few paperbacks at the cabin. Unless of course you'd rather do homework."

"No," Grace said quickly. "I'm caught up on my homework and a book would be nice. What kind?"

"I have a few sci-fi and a couple best sellers. I'll bring a few and you can choose."

"Thanks," Grace said.

"I have some paperwork to get done," Carey said as she stood up. "I'll get the books but then I need to get back to the office." She rolled up the bloody shirt. "I'll toss this in the washer while I'm at the cabin. Don't want the stains to set in."

"Instructor Carey?" Grace looked down at her hands. "Thanks, you know, for getting the shirt and something to read and..." She twisted her fingers together. "And coming to see if I was okay."

"Of course I would come see if you were all right," Carey said. "Grace, I really wish things had gone better for you today. I know how much you were looking forward to seeing your mother."

Grace shrugged. "I should have known better. Nothing ever goes right for me."

"That's not true," Carey said. "You're here, and while I know you think this is a punishment, you can turn it into an opportunity to make your life better." She walked to the doorway. "You've already made some significant changes, even if you can't see them yourself. And asking about the SAT and GED shows you finally care about your future." She lightly tapped the doorframe with her knuckles. "You're making progress, Grace. Don't let this set you back."

Grace took her seat in the loose circle of chairs, finding herself between Christine and Instructor Gage. I knew I should have got here early. "Hey," she said to the overweight teen next to her.

"Hi, Grace."

"All right, girls," Gage said. "Let's settle down and get started. We left off last time talking about how to recognize your buttons. Often it is those closest to us that, whether intentional or not, press the most and the biggest buttons. Waters, who pushes your buttons the most?"

"No one, ma'am."

"Really?" Gage turned her chair so she was facing Grace more than anyone else. "You think no one can push your buttons?"

"Not anymore, ma'am," Grace said, knowing she'd just made a challenge but determined to win.

"You're sure you want to go there, Waters?" Gage asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"What about your mother? Does she push your buttons?"

"No, ma'am," Grace said, looking down at the deep green carpet.

"She never says anything to upset you?"

"No, ma'am."

"Never does anything to upset you?"

Grace hesitated, sensing where Instructor Gage was going. "Sometimes but it doesn't matter anymore, ma'am."

"Really? Why?"

"Because I'm not going to see her anymore, ma'am."

"You're going to cut your mother out of your life? Must be a good reason."

"Doesn't matter, ma'am." Come on, move on to someone else.

"Obviously your mother did something to push your buttons. What was it?"

"I'd rather not say, ma'am."

"You don't get that choice in here, Waters," Gage said. "What did she do?"

"She decided to marry a jerk, ma'am," Grace said, not wanting to use the real name she had for him and risk earning pushups.

"And why is he a jerk?"

"He...he just is, ma'am."

"Why?"

"Because..." Grace curled her hands into fists. "He lies and she believes him, ma'am."

"Did she believe him over you?"

Grace stared hard at the carpet. "Yes, ma'am."

"And you're feeling anger at her now?"

Grace's nostrils flared. "Yes, ma'am."

"What did he lie about?" Grace shook her head, jaw clenched. "Answer me."

"It's not important, ma'am," she said through gritted teeth.

"It's worth cutting your mother out of your life because she believes a lie he told her about something that's not important?"

"He lied and she believed him," Grace said. "That's all that matters, ma'am."

"Watch that tone with me, young lady," Gage said.

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Parents can make mistakes, believe the wrong person," Gage said as Grace continued to stare at the carpet. "Beneath the anger you're showing there's a little girl who's hurting very badly right now."

Don't listen, don't think about it, don't...Grace flinched when she felt the instructor's hand on her back.

"It's all right to talk about it in here, Grace. What happened?"

"It doesn't matter, ma'am." Don't think, don't feel.

"It does matter."

"No it doesn't!" Grace screamed. "It could have been about anything. I told the truth, he lied, and she believed him. Nothing else matters." She took a deep breath. "Ma'am."

"You think that's going to save you?" Gage asked. "Unclench those fists, relax that jaw and you get yourself calmed down," she said. "You have no reason to blow up at me. You can think about that while you do ten pushups after class."

"Fuck," Grace said under her breath when she saw Gage and Carey talking. "I'm dead."

"What'd you do?" Jan asked.

"Blew up in AM," Grace said. "Bet she's telling Carey all about it."

"That's the problem with staying with them," Jan said. "Gage does a mentoring session on me every friggin' night."

"She's gonna grill me worse than the cops do when they got a murder suspect," Grace said, dropping her fork on her tray. "I'm going to be doing pushups until my arms break." Grace looked down quickly when brown eyes turned in her direction. "What are they doing?" she whispered.

"Coming this way," Jan said. "You're bacon, my friend."

"Thanks," Grace sighed, readying herself for an earful of angry instructor.

"Waters, pick up your tray and come with me," Carey said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good luck," Jan said.

Grace followed Carey to the trash bin where she dumped the rest of her dinner, then set the tray on top with the others. "You can start talking at any time," Carey said, opening one of the double doors.

The sooner I talk, the sooner you'll drop me for ten or twenty.

"We have three hours until lights out," Carey said.

"I don't have anything to say, ma'am."

"Really? Hmm, sounded like you had a great deal to say in AM today."

I knew Gage would tell her. "Not that much, ma'am."

"What did he lie about?"

"I don't want to talk about it, ma'am."

“You're only making it harder on yourself, Grace. We want to help you but we can't if we don't know what's going on."

"He hit me, ma'am."

"How?"

Grace shrugged. "With his hand if he could reach me. Throwing something if he couldn't." That's it. Stay focused on that. She doesn't have to know about anything else.

"And your mother didn't believe you? She had to have seen the marks."

"Oh, she believed he hit me," Grace said. "She also believed his reasons why I deserved it, ma'am."

"Why didn't you say this in AM?"

Because all I could think about was him standing there saying he didn't touch me. Hitting me didn't seem that important. "I...I guess I was too angry to talk about it, ma'am." Looking up, she realized they were at the cabin.

"Have a seat," Carey said, gesturing at the steps. "Since you're calmer now, start talking."

Grace sat down and stared at the path. "He's a bum. Sits around saying he's disabled and collecting checks when he really is just a jerk who smokes his weed and watches TV." She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Carey. "Oh yeah, he sits right there in the living room with his pot and his pipe."

"So your mother knew about it?"

"She knew," Grace said. "My mother deals with things by ignoring them and hoping they'll go away."

"Did he ever offer any to you?"

"First time I got high was with him," Grace said.

"Is he where you got the marijuana you were caught with?"

Grace nodded. "But I could have gotten it anywhere, you know. It's not like it's hard to find."

"Do you smoke a lot of it?"

"Well, not lately," she said, gesturing around her. "I know what you mean. When he first moved in he let me smoke with him every day after school before Mom got home from work. I stopped smoking with him after a while but he left baggies in my room so I still had some. But after he left, I only smoked it if someone gave it to me."

“You're smart enough to know that numbing your feelings doesn't make them go away," Carey said. "You're also smart enough to know how easily drugs can mess up your life or even take it away altogether if they're abused."

"I know," Grace said. But it was the only way to deal with him.

"There are other ways to numb yourself," Carey said. "Hiding behind your anger and pushing people away are two that you excel at. Someone touches a sensitive subject with you and you resort to anger or violence to get the subject changed. Sound familiar, Miss I Like Throwing Chairs at Teachers?"

Grace looked down. "Yes, ma'am."

Carey smiled. "Oh, you do remember the word, don't you?" Grace went to move but stopped when she saw her mentor's upraised hand. "Sit. Obviously you think the rules for the steps are the same as inside the cabin and I'm not in the mood to watch you do pushups." She rested her wrists on her knees. "I'm more interested in what's going on in that head of yours."

"Nothing, ma'am," Grace said, deciding it was better not to push her liberty.

"I can see the gears turning from here," Carey said. "I get the feeling you're being selective about what you're telling me. Grace, did anything else happen when you were alone with him?"

"No, ma'am," she said, her gaze focused on a stone near the bottom step. Oh, please change the subject.

"Did he ever touch you sexually?"

"No, ma'am." Don't look at her.

"You know it's safe to tell me if he did."

"Yes, ma'am."

There was an agonizing silence as Grace waited for the instructor to speak. "All right, enough of this," Carey said as she stood up. "I'm hungry and you have homework to do. You can apologize to Instructor Gage tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am." Grace waited a second, then followed her into the cabin. She went straight to her class books and started her homework in the hopes the conversation would not be continued.

"You threw out half of your dinner," Carey said from the kitchen. "Did you have enough to eat?"

Grace shrugged. "I don't care for macaroni and cheese."

"I didn't ask that."

Oh, she's offering. Grace smiled and went to the kitchen. "Do I have to answer before I find out what it is?"

Carey smiled and opened the refrigerator. "I'm not making anything fancy tonight. There's sandwich meat or help yourself to hot dogs." She pulled out a plate of leftovers and put it in the microwave. "Don't even think about touching the cheesecake if you want to keep your fingers intact."

"I won't, I promise."

"One can of soda," Carey said, programming the microwave and pressing the start button. "I know how many are in there."

Grace went to the refrigerator and looked at the offerings. "How about grape?"

"How many do I have?"

Yeah, you know how many are in here, Grace thought, her smile hidden from the older woman by the refrigerator door. "Three."

"Fine," Carey said.

"Can I have some potato salad?"

"Go ahead. Did you have any fruit today?"

"Orange juice with breakfast," Grace said.

"There's some grapes in the crisper," Carey said.

Grace selected the items she wanted and set them on the counter.

"That smells good," she said, referring to the aroma wafting from the microwave.

"And surprisingly it's also nutritionally balanced," Carey said. "Speaking of which, why didn't you eat your spinach yesterday?"

"It was mush," Grace said. "Pasty green mush."

"The joys of mass food production," Carey said. "I suffered through it in the Coast Guard." The microwave dinged. "Something else you have to look forward to when you turn your life around. No more food from vats."

"Amen," Grace said. "I should put that on my goals list for Personal Finance."

"Either add lettuce and tomato to that sandwich or finish up the broccoli in the little container on the second shelf," Carey said as she carefully removed the hot plate from the microwave. "And remember, you don't want the others to think you're getting any special privileges."

"Food? What food?" Grace said, adding lettuce and tomato to her sandwich. The last thing she planned to do was tell anyone she was getting extra treats, snacks, and drinks when everyone else was suffering with food from the mess hall.

"That's what I thought you'd say." With the plate now cooled, Carey picked it up and leaned against the counter to eat. "So have you thought any more about college?"

"I haven't even finished high school yet," Grace said, mimicking her mentor's actions and leaning against the sink as she ate her sandwich.

"You will. It's one of your goals." Carey took a sip of her soda, then sat the can down on the counter. "Answer my question."

"I've thought about it, a little. There's no way I can afford it."

"Don't be so sure of that," Carey said. "If you want to go bad enough, there's always a way to find the money."

"Like you said before, I don't have any rich relatives on the verge of dropping dead."

"I'm sure I didn't put it in quite those terms," Carey said. "There are other ways to get money, Grace. Student loans, grants, work relief from the school where you put in so many hours working on campus in exchange for a break on tuition, the list goes on."

"Where did you go to college?"

“The Coast Guard Academy."

"Well I'm not interested in joining the military," Grace said. "I've had enough of ten hut as it is."

Carey chuckled and turned on the water to rinse her plate. "I'd have to agree," she said. "I can't see you in the service. I can, however, see you in college. Speaking of which, how are you doing on those practice SAT questions Instructor Donaldson found for you?"

"Okay," Grace said. "My scores for the verbal part are lower than the math."

"How much lower?"

Grace finished chewing before answering. "Out of a hundred test questions, I got sixteen wrong."

"Any particular area giving you the most trouble?"

"Relationships," Grace said. "You know, A is to B as what is to what."

"Ah," Carey said with a smile. "I disliked that part too. Keep working on it. As a matter of fact, instead of trying to be ten chapters ahead of everyone else in your classes, concentrate on those SAT practice tests this week."

"Why?"

"Because I said so." Carey took another drink of her soda. "I know, not an answer you like. I was able to reserve a slot for you for the next test but I'm still waiting for approval for the transportation. The test is this coming Saturday."

"Oh." This Saturday? Three days away? "I don't think I'll be ready by then."

"You'll do fine."

"Uh-huh," Grace said dubiously.

"You will," her mentor insisted. "You're just nervous."

"Dismissed," Carey said. "Waters, stay behind." Grace remained where she was, wondering if it had anything to do with the IJCF van that was parked near the administration building. Once everyone else was gone, Carey stood next to her. 'Today is the last day to take the test until October," she said. "So I'll ask you again, do you want to take the SATs?"

"What happens if I fail it, ma'am?" Grace asked.

"You can't fail it. If you aren't happy with the score, you can take it again in October." A firm hand clasped Grace's shoulder. "Now I need to know. Do you want to go?"

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, not wanting the opportunity to pass until October.

"All right," Carey said. "Go change into your PT shirt and sneakers. You can keep the khakis on since I don't think you want to go in BDUs or your shorts."

"Actually the BDU pants would be better, ma'am."

"Fine. Go get changed and meet me in my office."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're not putting her in a jumpsuit?" was what Grace heard as she reached the office door. She paused, waiting for Carey's answer.

"She's going to take a test, not appear in court. It's bad enough you have to use the shackles. I'm not sending her into a test room looking like a convict any more than I have to."

"Suit yourself," the deep-voiced woman said. "Don't worry, she won't go anywhere."

"One more thing. When you get to the school, can you take the shackles off before she has to go inside?"

"Now you're asking too much. Why don't I give her twenty bucks and the bus schedule, too?"

"You have to take the handcuffs off for her to take the test."

"I only have to let one hand out."

"It's your call, of course, but I would take it as a great personal favor if you would do this."

There was a pause during which Grace held her breath, hoping the corrections officer would give in.

"Shackles to and from, leg irons there. So where's the delinquent?"

Grace tiptoed back several steps, then approached again and knocked on the door. "Instructor Carey?"

"Come in."

Entering the room, Grace saw the face that belonged to the gravelly voice. It was not a corrections officer that she had ever seen before, but it was clear from the squinted eyes and pinched lips that the woman did not like her. "I'm ready, ma'am."

"Almost," Carey said, opening her top desk drawer. "You're allowed to bring two number two pencils," she said, putting the items on the desk. "Officer Baker will take you to Mohawk High School where you'll take the test, then you'll be returned here."

"I'll be waiting right outside the classroom," the corrections officer said. "Attempted escape carries an automatic six months at Crestwood, or if you're old enough, the women's facility in Irwin."

"I won't try to escape," Grace said, doing her best to keep any attitude out of her voice.

The guard looked at her from head to toe, then shook her head. "I'd rather have her in a jumpsuit."

"I'll take full responsibility," Carey said, then her brown eyes locked on Grace. "She'll be a model young lady."

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, snapping to attention.

"Search and shackle, let's go," the guard said, grabbing Grace's arm and muscling her face first against the wall. "I know you know the position."

Grace closed her eyes, finding the situation humiliating, especially in front of her mentor. Hey, watch those hands, she thought to herself as they closed around her breasts and felt for any foreign objects that could be hidden in her sports bra. It took longer than Grace felt was necessary, but she knew better than to say anything. Finally every inch of her upper body was searched. Now the meaty hands slithered up her left leg, reaching the apex-and pressing up hard enough that she was forced to go up on her toes before the procedure was repeated on her other leg. Getting a good feel, you bitch?

"Turn around, wrists together out in front of your body, legs shoulder length apart." Grace opened her eyes and turned around, putting her hands as instructed. She looked over to where Instructor Carey was standing, surprised to see her mentor looking out the window. She doesn't like this either, she thought to herself. Chains went around her waist, secured by a lock that the guard felt the need to jerk hard to prove it was secure. Grace lost her balance but recovered quickly, refusing to let the corrections officer get the best of her. "Left arm down at your side." The handcuff was slapped on, then locked into position. Her right wrist was held in a punishing grip as the final restraint was applied. "The prisoner is ready for transport," the guard said. "If you'll just sign the release forms."

Carey turned away from the window and crossed the three steps to her desk. After taking the clipboard and scrawling her name across the bottom of the form, she handed it to the corrections officer. Picking up the pencils, she walked over to Grace. "Good luck," she said, opening the side pocket of Grace's camouflage pants and putting them inside. "Good luck."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Just do your best. I know you'll do well."

"I will, ma'am."

"Hey, where's she going?" Jan asked, jabbing Latisha as Grace was led out of the administration building in shackles, Instructor Carey right behind her. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Latisha said. "She didn't say anything to me."

"Did she do something?"

"Not that I know of," Latisha said. "Instructor Mitchell, what's happening to Grace?"

"You don't have enough of your own business to mind?" the instructor said. "Get stretching. Instructor Carey will be with you in a few minutes."

"Yes, ma'am," Latisha said.

The small windows provided Grace with only a view of passing trees and utility poles. While she hated the shackles, she found the seat restraints to be even more loathsome. Get some decent shocks on this thing, she thought as the van went over another bone-jarring bump, bouncing her on the metal bench on which she was restrained. All the questions on the practice test fled her mind and even the simplest equation seemed an insurmountable task. She decided the verbal part was a total loss, having no idea what was on it or even what to expect beyond multiple choice answers. When the trees gave way to buildings and the van slowed, Grace found her hands starting to sweat and rubbed them on her camouflage pants. It's just a test, right? Nothing to get worked up about. Just a test Viking expects me to ace. What if they ask questions I don't know? FOIL, outer, inner, no-first, outer, inner, last. That's it. Now what's that for? The van slowed to a stop, causing nervous anticipation to well up within her. What am I doing here? Everyone else has been in study groups, or at least did some studying for this. I'm gonna bomb, I know it. The single large door on the back of the van opened, flooding the cabin with sunlight. Officer Baker turned the key to unlock the mesh gate, then stepped inside.

"You try to take off and I'll break your legs, you got that?"

"Yes," Grace said as the seat restraints were removed. "I'm not gonna try anything."

"I've heard that before," the corrections officer said, backing out of the van. "All right, come out slowly." As much as Grace disdained the woman, she was nonetheless appreciative of the steadying hand that helped her step down. "When I release your handcuffs, keep your hands still until I tell you otherwise." The cuffs were removed, then the chains that met at her waist. "Hold still." Another set of leg cuffs were put on her, the chain shorter than the one required for use with the shackles. Finally the first set of leg cuffs were removed and Officer Baker stepped back. "Since there will be a proctor in the room, I'll wait in the hall."

Grace looked at the question again. Wolf is to pack as blank is to blank: horse to saddle, goose to flock, fox to lair, dog to sled or lion to cub. Grace tapped her pencil rhythmically against her chin. I hate these questions. Wolves run in packs. Dogs run with sleds. Is that what they mean? No. It's supposed to be a clear relationship. That's what the instructions said. Flock. A goose flies in a flock. A single to a group. That's got to be it. Grace let the pencil hover over the circle, reading the question once more before filling in her answer. Thumbing the remaining pages, Grace let out a long breath. I'll never make it. Without thought she shifted her feet, causing the chain to scrape against the floor. Damn. Several heads turned but just as quickly went back to their own tests. Tapping her chin with the pencil, Grace looked at the next question. Down is to goose...What is it with all these questions about geese? All right, down is to goose...

"All right, settle down," Carey said as Bravo Squad entered the classroom. "Take your seats and get those pens out from behind your ears. We have a lot to cover today."

"What happened to Waters, ma'am?" Jan asked.

"I hope you were worried more about your homework than what's going on with someone else," Carey said. "Now, we were talking about the types of sexually transmitted diseases. Bowen, what's the cure for herpes?"

"Um, penicillin, ma'am?"

"Bowen, drop for ten. Campbell, cure for herpes."

"Surgery, ma'am."

"Campbell, drop for ten. Hathaway, cure for herpes."

"There is no cure, ma'am."

"Good, I was beginning to think that for some reason the writers of your text forgot to include it," Carey said. "Do you girls need to go back to the barracks and pick up your brains? Jones, what are the visible symptoms of herpes?"

"A rash, ma'am?"

Carey slammed her book on the desk. "Jones, when were you planning on studying?"

"First period study hall, ma'am."

"And did you even open your book?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Really? Did you read it?"

"No, ma'am."

"So what were you doing?"

"I was asking if anyone knew what happened to Grace, ma'am."

"If Waters wants you to know what happened, she'll tell you when she gets back," Carey said, seeing smiles form on many of the faces in the class now that they knew Grace would be returning. "Now since obviously Hathaway seems to be the only one who did any reading, you can all sit here and read not only what I assigned for today but through the end of the chapter. Next class will be a test."

"And...time. Please put your pencils down and remain in your seats," the proctor said, closing his pocket watch and rising from his seat. "After I collect your exam, you may leave." Grace remained in her seat, not wanting to have everyone see her leg irons. Only after the last student had left did she get up from her seat, her legs groaning after being in the same position for so long.

Stepping into the hall, Grace was surprised to find it deserted. Maybe she went to the bathroom. I'd better stay right here. Leaning against a locker, she waited until the proctor left the room. "I'm sorry, miss, you have to leave now," he said.

"I'm supposed to wait for the guard to get me," Grace said, wiggling her leg and making the chain jangle.

He pulled his pocket watch out again and checked the time. "I don't know what to tell you, but I need to lock up the school."

What am I supposed to do? "Sir, can you just wait here a minute and I'll check and see if she's in the ladies room? Please, if she shows up and I'm not here, I'm gonna be in big trouble."

He sighed and shut the classroom door. "The ladies room is down the hall on the right side. It's the only one available during testing times."

"Thanks," Grace said, moving as fast as her leg chains would let her. The bathroom was halfway down the hall but when she opened the door and called out, no one answered. Now very nervous, she checked each stall before returning to the hallway. "Did she show up?" she asked, even though she could clearly see only the proctor was standing in the hallway.

"No. Come on, miss, you'll have to wait outside."

There was no sign of the IJCF van when she went outside. An hour later she was still sitting on the high school steps. She thought about calling Sapling Hill and letting them know what was going on but there was no pay phone in sight and she was afraid not to be right there when the corrections officer did show up. So she sat there, her feet on the step below with the chain slack hidden behind her feet. Passersby would see nothing more than a teen sitting on the high school steps waiting for a ride. When the van did pull up, an angry Officer Baker greeted her. "Let's go, get down here," the woman yelled from the curb while opening the rear door of the van. Grace worked her way down the steps, mindful of the short chain that hobbled her usual gait. "I thought it was a four-hour test."

"Three," Grace said, letting her hands rest at her sides in preparation for the shackles. "It ended about two hours ago." The guard moved quickly, wrenching Grace's arm up behind her back and slamming her against the mesh door.

"Did I ask you a question, you little bitch?"

Grace smelled alcohol on the woman's breath.

"Now stand still." Grace gritted her teeth as the drunken woman's hands moved over her torso, then up to her breasts.

"Having fun?" Grace said, her anger flaring.

"I'm just making sure you're not hiding anything," the corrections officer said, backing up and easing the pressure of the mesh against Grace's cheek. "Turn around." The shackles were applied, then the wire mesh door was opened. "Get up there." The leg chain made it impossible for her to just step up, forcing Grace to go in butt first, then roll up on her knees. As she was about to push herself up onto the seat, the guard was there, pushing Grace off balance and causing her to fall against the hard steel edge of the bench.

"Ow, shit!" Grace said as she tumbled to the floor, her shackled wrists making it impossible to break her fall. Officer Baker grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her up onto the bench seat.

"Stop your whining." The restraints were secured, then the crouched guard stepped out of the van. "I'm not listening to your mouth all the way back." Grace heard the driver's door open and close, then the burly woman returned. "Give me a reason," she said, holding a wide roll of duct tape.

No fucking way, Grace thought to herself, staring hard at the floor knowing that if she looked up and saw the mocking look on the guard's face she would lose her temper.

"I had to spend my whole day waiting around for you," Officer Baker said, stepping into the van and crouching down in front of her. "Beautiful day like today where I could have been relaxing at home and I had to be called in because you wanted to go take a test and get away from the hill for the day."

Don't say anything. Don't look. Just stay quiet.

"Huh? What's that? Don't have anything to say now?"

Grace shook her head. Just get up front where you belong, you fucking bitch.

"That's what I thought," the guard said, backing up out of the van. "You just remember, one word and I’ll shut your mouth for you." The wire mesh gate slammed shut.

There was a short knock, followed by Gage opening the door. "I just spoke to IJCF. They haven't heard anything."

"So where is she?" Carey asked, turning away from the window. "It's a little over an hour to Mohawk. Three hours for the test, then back here. Six hours tops." She looked at her watch. "Eight and a half hours so far."

Gage pointed at the window. "Here they come."

Carey stormed out of the office, Gage on her heels. "Where have you been?" she asked as the corrections officer stepped out of the van.

"Flat tire," she said. "Radio doesn't carry too well up here." Officer Baker inserted the key in the lock, then opened the rear door. "Couldn't even raise a tow truck."

"Really," Carey said, looking at the two tires visible to her. "You had the phone number for here. Why didn't you call?"

"No phones nearby," the guard said, opening the mesh door and stepping inside. Carey strolled around the van, returning to the rear just as the burly woman pulled Grace out. "Do you want me to search her?"

"We'll take care of it," Carey said. "Just get those manacles off her." She was bothered-by the way Grace refused to look at her or any instructor. "Waters, how did the test go?"

"Okay, ma'am," the teen said without enthusiasm.

"Do you need some help?" Carey asked the guard, who was taking far longer than she liked.

"It would be easier if she'd hold still," Officer Baker said, releasing the last ankle cuff. "Keep your arms down at your sides." There were a few clicks, then the guard stepped back with an armful of chains.

"Waters, follow Instructor Gage inside," Carey said, gripping the clipboard tightly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"What a day," Baker said, reaching out for the clipboard. "I told you she should have been in a jumpsuit. Nothing but trouble all the way up and back."

"I'll take care of it," came Carey's tightlipped reply. "Officer..." She looked down at her copy of the transport form. "Baker."

The smile left the guard's face. "Like I said, trouble. You know how these girls are. You can't believe anything they say."

Carey stared at her for a moment, knowing her eyes conveyed her feelings about who the real liar would be, then turned and went inside.

Entering her office, Carey found Grace sitting while Gage stood behind the chair. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure, ma'am," Grace said.

"Then tell me what you do know," Carey said, taking her seat and reaching for a blank pad of paper.

"I got to the school and she let me go inside and told me she'd wait for me in the hall," Grace said. "When the test was over, she wasn't there, ma'am."

"What do you mean she wasn't there?" Carey asked, putting her hands on the desk and rising from her seat.

"I was sure she said she'd be in the hallway but she wasn't, and then after an hour the man had to lock the school up so I sat on the steps outside and waited until she showed up, ma'am."

"How long were you sitting there?"

Grace shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think around two hours. She must have lost track of time drinking at the bar, ma'am."

"What bar?"

"I don't know, but when she came to get me, she was drunk, ma'am."

"How do you know that?"

"I smelled it on her breath, ma'am."

"And you don't know how long you were sitting there?"

"I don't have a watch, but it was a long time, ma'am. Two, maybe two and a half hours."

"And you sat on the steps?" Gage asked. "You didn't go anywhere?"

Grace shook her head. "I thought about going to a pay phone to call you, but I didn't see any and I didn't want to be caught walking around, ma'am."

"So when was the flat tire?" Gage asked.

Grace looked confused. "I don't know anything about a flat tire, ma'am."

"From the time you got into the van until you were dropped off here," Carey said, exchanging looks with Instructor Gage. "Did the van stop at all?"

"No, ma'am."

"She was left unattended," Gage said.

"She was left unattended," Carey repeated, sinking back into her chair and rubbing her forehead. "All the tires looked the same. I didn't see where any had been changed recently." Clicking her pen, she circled Baker's name on the transport form. "Waters, what happened remains private, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You can talk about going to take the SAT, but nothing about what happened with that woman. I mean it, not one word."

"I won't say anything, ma'am."

Carey took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. "You were left unsupervised in a public place. I'm afraid I have no alternative. You have to submit to a strip search."

Grace frowned, but nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"Would it be all right, I mean Instructor Gage can watch me, but would it be all right to go to the bathroom first, ma'am?"

"Actually that's a good idea," Carey said. "Pick up a specimen bottle on the way."

"I'll have to watch and search the stall afterwards, Waters," Gage said. "Let's go."

"Come back here when you're done," Carey said, opening her rolodex. "Sue, make sure I'm off the phone first."

Gage nodded. "Okay, Waters, let's go."

"Yes, ma'am." As soon as the door was closed, Carey began dialing.

"Iroquois Juvenile Correction Facility."

"This is Instructor Carey at Sapling Hill. I want whoever is in charge, right now!"

"Sit," Carey said when Grace and Gage entered the room. "I take it everything was fine?"

"Nothing found but two well-chewed pencils," Gage said. "I have the urine sample tagged and in the holding fridge."

"You understand we're going to do a drug test on that urine, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Carey pulled out a form and scribbled Grace's name on it. "Did you have any coffee, poppy seed bagels, over the counter medications, cigarettes, or anything else I should know about?"

"Just the coffee I had this morning in your cabin. Other than that, no, ma'am."

"What did you eat today?"

"A breakfast sandwich, ma'am."

"What else?" Carey asked, looking down at the form.

"Nothing, ma'am."

"What?" Carey's head shot up, catching the same astonished look in Gage's eyes. "It's almost 1700 hours. What did you have to drink?"

"I had some water from the school fountain while I was waiting, ma'am."

"Do you want something from the mess hall?"

"No, ma'am. I can wait for dinner, ma'am."

"Instructor Carey, you should know I observed a red mark on her back running from her right shoulder diagonally to her left hip," Gage said.

Carey rubbed her left temple, knowing the slight pain would turn into a massive headache before the night was over. "How did it happen?"

"Robocop shoved me when I was getting in and I fell against the bench, ma'am," Grace said.

Carey looked at Gage. "How bad is this mark?"

"It's red, but the bruising around it doesn't look too bad," Gage said.

"Are you in pain, Waters?"

Grace shook her head. "No, ma'am."

"Tell me, in detail, exactly how you got that mark," Carey said, exchanging concerned looks with Gage.

"When she finally showed up, she put the shackles on me and I got in the van," Grace said. "When I turned around to sit down, she shoved me and told me I shouldn't have been allowed to go to take the test in the first place. That's when I hit the bench. Then she pulled me up and pushed me onto the seat, ma'am."

Tearing off the paper she had been writing notes on, Carey pushed the pad and pen over. "Start with coming into this office this morning for transport and put down every single detail until this minute. If you sneezed, I want to know about it. If you bumped your foot against a step, I want to know. Every detail, and don't even think about exaggerating or adding things that didn't happen."

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said. "Ma'am?"

Carey exchanged a concerned look with Gage. "Yes?"

Grace looked at her with all seriousness. "I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't mouth off to her or give her any trouble, I swear it. And I didn't go anywhere. I really didn't, ma'am."

"Don't say anything else until you have that statement written," Carey said. "Sue, stop by the mess hall and pick up a dinner for her, then get Marilyn. I need both of you to make observation reports." She reached for the Rolodex. "I'll call for the nurse."

"You think that's really necessary?" Gage asked.

"She was injured while outside of our custody," Carey said. "I'm not explaining to the brass why there's a report of an injury with no medical documentation."

"Do you want anything?"

Carey used her thumb and forefinger to rub her temples. "A king sized aspirin," she said, picking up the phone. Gage left, shutting the door behind her.

"Fuller Medical Group."

"Yes, this is Joanna Carey of Sapling Hill. I have a girl here that I need to have examined."

"This is the service. I'll notify the nurse on call."

"Thank you." Carey hung up the phone. It was the part of the job she hated the most, being an administrator when what she wanted to do was mentor the teen sitting across from her. She wished she could just tell Grace she believed her, but she had to remain completely neutral until the investigation, if there was one, was complete. Despite having her own paperwork to do, Carey watched as Grace filled one page, then started on another. When the teen finished, she set the pen down and looked at Carey expectantly.

"Everything in there is exactly what happened?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The door opened and Instructors Gage and Donaldson entered, setting a dinner tray on top of the file cabinet. "Grace, the statement you just wrote is a true and accurate representation of what happened today, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And that entire statement is in your handwriting, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Has anyone helped or told you what to write other than my original instructions?"

"No, ma'am."

Carey looked at her watch. "It's 1745. Waters, write down the date and time, sign your full legal name, then hand it to Instructor Gage."

"Yes, ma'am."

Carey handed the observation forms to her blonde coworker. "She's going to eat first, then take her in the back and do a visual."

"Do you want a picture?"

Before Carey could answer, she saw Gage nodding. "It's a good idea," she said, opening the top drawer and removing the key to the supply locker where the camera was kept. She wanted to ask how the test went, how Grace felt, but that was impossible at the moment. "Grace, other than your back, are you injured anywhere else?"

"I don't think so, ma'am."

"All right. Go ahead and eat," Carey said, taking Grace's signed statement from Donaldson. As she read it over, her headache worsened. As much as she believed what Grace said had happened, she knew it would come down to the teen's word against a corrections officer. Marking her initials in the lower left hand corner of each handwritten page, Carey made a notation in her incident report referencing the statement, then finished filling in the various parts of the form. When Grace finished eating, Carey had her escorted to another room to strip and have the mark on her back photographed. Then it was more paperwork as the nurse arrived with forms of her own both before and after examining Grace. When the evening ended, Carey had a stack of papers, a headache that refused to go away, and the promise that the next day would be just as bad when the corrections officer's report was turned in.

It was almost lights out by the time Grace was allowed to leave the infirmary and return to the cabin. The illumination from inside told her that Instructor Carey was already there. Please don't want to talk about it, she thought as she climbed the steps. I just want to go to sleep and forget about the whole damn day. Stepping inside, she found the dark-haired woman sitting in the recliner. "Hello, ma'am."

"Come sit down," Carey said, gesturing at the couch. "Are you still hungry?"

"No," Grace said as she sat down. "I'm fine."

Carey leaned forward, putting the footrest down and resting her elbows on her knees. "Grace, talk to me."

"I've already told you what happened," Grace said.

"Not about that," Carey said. "The test. I remember how stressful it was for me to take the SAT."

"I've never taken a test that hard," Grace said. "I thought I'd never finish it."

"How do you think you did?"

“I don’t know. I think I did okay. On the math part anyway." She shook her head. "The verbal was really hard. I um…I didn't finish the last section," she admitted. "He called time and I still had five questions to go."

Carey smiled and leaned back in her chair. "Only five? You never saw someone fill circles in so fast when I took the test. I think I had twenty."

"You guessed at the last ones too?"

"Yes, they say not to but I panicked when the proctor called time," Carey said.

"Me too." Grace smiled, feeling a little better.

Carey steepled her fingers. "The investigation precludes me from talking to you about what happened with Officer Baker, but I will tell you that I'm proud of the way you restrained your mouth. At least when you returned. I could tell you were angry."

Grace nodded. "I was, but I knew you'd be upset if I lost it."

"I would have," Carey said. "You're showing real progress, Grace. The last time you were dropped off by a correctional officer you had to have your mouth gagged. I'm not saying that to embarrass you. I'm reminding you of where you've been and how far you've come." She snapped her fingers, making Grace look at her and not the coffee table. "You realize it's been over a week since you've made me drop you?"

"Six days," Grace corrected. "Remember, I caught my toe on the corner of the couch."

"You're right," Carey said. "I've been around sailors with much cleaner language than you use." Resting her elbows on the armrest, she laced her fingers together. "There was a time when I doubted you could go six hours, much less six days."

"Me too," Grace said. "It seemed like everything I did got you mad."

"Some things made me mad," Carey said. "The eye rolling for one."

"I've been real good about that," Grace said.

"You have," the instructor said. "I don't take joy in disciplining you, Grace. I do it because you need it, because you've broken a rule, or because you've been disrespectful either to yourself or to someone else."

"Instructor Carey? Thanks for not making me go in a jumpsuit." Instead of looking at the coffee table like she usually did, she met the brown eyes squarely. "I know you didn't have to do that and...well...I just wanted you to know I appreciated it."

"You're welcome," Carey said, giving the teen an approving smile. "I never thought I'd hear that from you." She pushed the footrest down and stood up. "You want a soda?"

"Oh yeah, that'd be great," Grace said.

"Come on," Carey said. "Talk to me nicely and there might be a pint of cherry vanilla in the freezer that we can share."

"So does that mean you're going to college?" Latisha asked.

Grace stabbed at the green beans. "Where am I supposed to get money for college? Rob a bank?"

"What about loans and all those things they give to us poor unfortunates?" Jan asked. "My cousin got to go to cosmetology school and they even gave her money for the bus and lunch each day. Maybe you could do something like that."

"Are you kidding?" Rosetti said. "You remember her hair when she came in here? She looked like a mad troll."

"Fuck you, Rosetti," Grace said. "I only had three or four colors in it. Besides, I'm not into playing hairdresser."

"So there's got to be other ways," Jan said.

"Yeah, maybe I’ll win the lottery. Of course you have to be eighteen to buy a ticket, so that's out." She snapped her fingers. "I know, I'll win a scholarship for wayward girls who get expelled from school. Forget it, Jan. College isn't for me."

"But you're the smartest one here," Jan said. "If anyone can get to college, it's you."

"Why would I want to spend four more years in school?" Grace asked, jabbing a piece of meat and popping it into her mouth. "I couldn't wait to get out of high school. You know, even the ones who get scholarships still have to work. Why not just work full time and get the money?"

"Have a kid," Lopez said. "They paid for my sister's apartment, she gets the Medicaid, and they pay for her to go to college," Lopez said. "Even paid for her day care."

"That's because she has a kid and is on welfare," Grace said.

"Well there you go," Jan said. "Go screw around, have a kid, then let the state pay for you to go to-uh-oh."

"And I couldn't figure out what we were going to talk about in SR today," Instructor Carey said from behind Grace's chair. "Thanks, ladies."

Grace remained quiet until she was sure the instructor was out of earshot. "Damn. How does she do that?"

"I don't know, but I bet she's got a dart board in her office with your picture on it," Jan said.

"Since you girls found the topic so interesting at lunch, let's talk about what it means to have children." Carey sat on her desk, her hands curled around the edge. "In this state, half of all families on welfare started with teenage pregnancy. Why?" Brown eyes scanned the room. "Rosetti."

"Because teen mothers can't afford it, ma'am."

"It." Carey shook her head. "You make a baby sound like a car. It's a baby. A living, breathing, extremely expensive and needy human being. There is not a single one of you who can afford to take care of yourselves much less a baby, and if you think Mr. Wonderful is going to step up to the plate and take financial responsibility, or any responsibility, think again. In cases when the mother's age is between sixteen and twenty, less than half of the fathers are identified on the birth certificates." She pushed off the desk and walked between the rows of desks. "Now if the cost isn't enough to convince you, think about the baby's health. Teens are twice as likely not to receive adequate prenatal care as women in their twenties, and almost three times less than women over the age of thirty. Waters, give me an example of what can happen without proper prenatal care."

"Um, birth defects, ma'am."

"Such as?"

"Being retarded, ma'am."

"Mental retardation is a good one. Campbell, name another."

"Physical defects, ma'am."

"Low birth weight and underdeveloped organs are also what teen mothers can look forward to," Carey said. "Children of teen parents are twice as likely to be victims of child abuse and neglect. Jones, is that what you want for your children?"

"No, ma'am."

"Rosetti, what about you?"

"No, ma'am."

"Having kids doesn't seem like a big joke now, does it?"

"No, ma'am," the group said.

"So let's talk about money, since Maribel seems to think having babies is the answer to financial problems. Think kids are cheap? Waters, you have an extra nine hundred dollars lying around?"

"No, ma'am."

"That's how much diapers cost for a year, if you look for sales and buy the cheapest ones," Carey said. "Bowen, feel like dropping a thousand for formula?"

"No, ma'am."

"Let's say you want to finish school, or if you're old enough, work full time. If you're lucky, child care will run between six and eight thousand a year. Working full time at McDonald's will earn you less than twelve thousand gross, and in this state, nine thousand net. So out of the nine thousand you can possibly hope to earn, there's no chance of making ends meet. Lopez, still sound like a good idea?"

"No, ma'am."

"Not so appealing now, is it?" She looked around. "Jones."

"No, ma'am."

"Good. Try to remember that when Prince Charming doesn't want to spend a few bucks on condoms. Any questions?" Nine heads looked everywhere but at her. "I should have known better than to ask. All right, open up your books and turn to page one thirty-seven. We'll start the chapter on abortion."

Grace closed her book, too bored to read another word. "I can't believe you don't have a television."

"When would I have time to watch it?" Carey asked. "When I'm not working with you girls, I'm here grading papers, planning lessons, or doing administrative work. Either that or sleeping. Why clutter the place with something that would only collect dust?"

"You have to take a break sometime," Grace said. "I can't read any more."

"There are other things you can do to pass the time besides zone out to the television," Carey said.

"Like what?"

"Sociable things, like play cards or chat with friends. You're not on restriction, Grace. You can go to the rec room."

"I don't feel like it," she said. "Do you have a deck of cards? I can play solitaire."

"I'll get them," Carey said, rising from her seat. "What games do you know how to play?"

"Poker, crazy eights, rummy, the usual," Grace said.

"Do you know how to play cribbage?"

"No."

"Too bad. It's a fun game," Carey said as she disappeared into the bedroom, returning a moment later with a deck of cards. "How about gin?"

"Yeah, it's like rummy only you don't put your cards down until you go out."

Carey smiled. "Or until your opponent goes out," she said, handing the deck to Grace.

"Kinda hard to get into a game like that during free period because it's so noisy in the rec room," Grace said. "Besides, it takes a while if you're keeping track of points."

"Fine," Carey said, following her into the kitchen. "You can practice your math skills keeping score." She went to the refrigerator and retrieved two cans of soda. "Paper and pens are in that drawer over there."

"Okay," Grace said. "Play to five hundred or a thousand?"

"I'm not in the mood to pull an all-nighter," Carey said as she sat down. "Five hundred."

Grace wrote JC and GW on the paper, then set it aside and started shuffling the cards. "Oh, did you want to deal first?"

"No, you go right ahead." Carey took a sip of soda. "So did anything I said in SR today sink in?"

Grace started dealing the cards. "I'm not planning on having kids," she said.

"In the near future, or ever?"

"I don't know," the teen said. "They're so messy, and changing diapers?" She shook her head. "Doesn't sound like something I wanna do."

Carey chuckled and picked up her cards. "That's one way to look at it."

"What about you?" Grace dared to ask.

"Crossing that line again," Carey said, discarding the nine of hearts. "If I did, it wouldn't be soon enough for my mother. She's been dying to be a grandmother for years now. Your turn."

You didn't answer the question, Grace thought as she picked up the card. "I'm an only child so I guess my mother's not gonna become a grandmother either."

"It's good that you realize how important a decision it is to make a baby," Carey said, laying her cards down on the table. "Gin."

Grace stared in disbelief. "That was too quick," she protested.

"That's the way the cards were dealt," Carey said, reaching for her soda. "Add them up, Waters."

"Face cards are ten, right?" Grace asked, holding a handful of them. She frowned at the answering nod. "You sure you don't wanna play to a thousand?"

Carey reached out and tilted Grace's cards to see. "You had the queens," she said. "I was looking for them."

"You can have them now if you want them," Grace offered, mentally calculating the score. "One seventeen."

Carey clapped her hands together and gathered up the cards. "You catch me with a good hand and you'll be able to make that up," she said. "While I'm shuffling, you can get the snacks out of the cabinet next to the refrigerator."

Grace jumped up quickly. "Great." She knew from looking around when Carey was working late tour exactly what was in that cabinet.

Carey dealt out the cards. "Use a napkin to wipe your hands," she said. "I don't want potato chip grease all over the cards."

"I will," Grace said as she grabbed the bags of chips, pretzels, and chocolate chip cookies. The teen had been eyeing the cookies for days but had not dared help herself to any. "Do you want bowls, or can we just eat out of the bags?"

"Either way," Carey said.

Grace decided to forego bowls, not wanting to wash them afterward. Setting the snacks on the table, she picked up her cards, sorting them by suit. "What a lousy hand."

"Mine's no better," Carey said.

"You could tell me what you need and I could see if I have it," Grace said, picking up the top card of the deck. Oh, that helps. She debated for a few seconds before discarding the ace of diamonds.

"Well that's not one of them," Carey said, reaching for the deck. "What are you looking for? Not aces, apparently."

"We're probably looking for the same cards," Grace said as she helped herself to a cookie, then took her turn. That helps too.

"Could be," Carey said as she picked up a card. "I'm not telling, though. Pass the pretzels."

Grace pushed the bag over, then snared another cookie. "You must have all the spades because I don't have any," she said as she pulled yet another helpful card from the deck. Ooh, I just need the seven.

"Maybe," Carey said, grinning as she took her turn. "I guess you'll just have to wait until I go out."

"Or until I go out," Grace said, smiling as she tossed a card on the discard pile and laid her hand down. "Gin."

"Good job," Carey said, quickly figuring out the total points in her hand. "Eighty-five."

"I'm catching up," Grace said, scooping up the cards. "I knew you had the spades."

"And you've had half a dozen cookies so far," Carey said, reaching over and moving the box out of the teen's reach. "Save some for another time."

"They're good," Grace said. "I love chocolate chip."

"So do I, and I'd like a few before the box is empty," Carey said.

"Now deal."

Grace smiled. "Yes, ma'am." She doled out the required number of cards, then drained the rest of her soda.

"You couldn't have dealt me a worse hand if you tried," Carey said. "What a mess."

"Good," Grace said, smiling at the cards she was holding.

"Oh really?" Carey smirked and drew a card from the pile, then debated for several seconds before choosing her discard. "Don't get too confident, Grace."

"I won't." Hah, she thought as she drew a card. Come on, Carey. Give me the ten of hearts. "Your turn."

"You should never play poker," Carey said. "Waiting on one card, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Uh-huh, your turn."

Please be the ten of hearts. Please be the ten of hearts. "Yes," she exclaimed. "Gin:" She rubbed her hands together gleefully and picked up the pen. "How many?"

"Let's see, sixty, seventy, seventy-seven, eighty-five, ninety-two."

Ninety-two." Grace passed her cards over. "That puts me in the lead."

"Not for long," Carey said. "I have a feeling this hand's going to be mine."

"This is fun," Grace said, picking up her cards. "We should do this again sometime."

Carey sorted her cards. "We'll see. I have to admit I expected you to demolish all the snacks by now."

Grace eyed the box of cookies. "I would have but you took them away," she said. "And the chips make me thirsty." She picked up her empty soda can and wiggled it. "I don't feel like water."

"I can just imagine what you are in the mood to drink," Carey said, tossing out a card. "One more and while you're at it, grab me a grape, would you?"

"Sure." Grace set her cards face down on the table and went to the refrigerator. This is great, she thought to herself. I never thought I'd be sitting at the kitchen table playing cards with her. "Instructor Carey? Do you play chess?"

"Yes. Do you play?"

Grace nodded, then realized she could not be seen through the refrigerator door. "Oh yeah. I tried to teach Jan but she doesn't have the patience for it."

"I don't have a chess set," Carey said. "And you're letting all the cold air out."

"Sorry." Grace took the two cans and closed the door. "There's a set in the rec room," she said as she handed the older woman the soda.

"I'll check and see if Sue has one," Carey said. "Your turn."

"Cool." The teen quickly sorted her cards. "So can we?" she asked as she drew a card.

"Can we what?"

"Play again sometime," Grace said.

"Does playing cards equate you being allowed to inhale all the cookies?"

"It doesn't have to but…" Grace gave her best puppy dog look.

Carey rearranged her cards, then set them down and reached for the box of cookies. "As long as your homework is done and you continue to act like a young lady and not a hoodlum, I'm sure I can be persuaded from time to time." She took a cookie, then pushed the box across the table to Grace. "One more." She watched her grin and reach in for another cookie. "You know, when you're not giving me death glares and scrapping with Lauren Grenner, you can be a very likable person."

Grace looked down at her cards. "She's the one that starts it."

"And you feel obligated to finish it," Carey said. "You have to learn to walk away, Grace. One of these days you'll come up against someone much worse than Grenner could ever dream of being, and the fight won't be with words but weapons." She snapped her fingers, causing Grace to look up from her cards. "I don't like seeing you hurt, especially when it can be avoided. By the way," Carey smiled and laid down her cards. "Gin."

"Have a seat," Carey said. "Since nothing escapes the eagle eyes of a Sapling Hill girl, I assume you saw the car that arrived today?"

"Yes, ma'am," Grace answered, wondering if it had anything to do with the incident on the day of her SATs.

"That was the district supervisor for the IJCF. He would be my boss's boss." Carey sat in her chair and did not look happy. "Grace, it went up to the attorney general and it's his opinion not to pursue any charges or reprimand against Officer Baker."

"They believed her over me," Grace said angrily. “I didn’t do anything wrong."

"Remember where you are, Waters. You owe me ten.”

"Yes, ma'am."

"And yes, they believe a corrections officer with no history of abusing prisoners over a teenager who threw a chair at a teacher and spit at another corrections officer. There's just not enough overwhelming evidence to make them think differently."

"But I'm not lying," Grace said, leaning forward in her seat. "Ask the man that gave the test. He'll tell you, ma'am."

"He was asked," Carey said. "That only suggests that she was not on the premises the entire time you were there. It doesn't substantiate any charges of abusing a prisoner while in custody."

"So is she even going to get in trouble for that?" Grace asked. "What about being drunk?"

"Since they didn't have her submit to a blood test until the next day, we can't prove she'd been drinking, and in light of her contention that you slipped out with the other students and went out a different door so you didn't see her…"

"No. There was one door and she said she'd be in the hall. I sat on those steps forever before she pulled up. I saw her pulling up. She wasn't there," Grace said, her voice rising. "Ma'am."

"Lower that tone," Carey said. "If you had been an honor student who was picked up and received rough treatment, the powers that be would be all over this. The problem is your record automatically makes your testimony suspect."

"So no matter what happened, I'm the one who gets punished, right, ma'am? I'm the one who gets strip searched and questioned and drug tested and monitored and treated like a criminal." Grace folded her arms across her chest. "It sucks, ma'am."

"It does," Carey said. "But we're not punishing you for anything that happened that day, Grace. You had to be examined because you were left unattended in a public place. What if you had sneaked in drugs? Whose ass do you think would be up on the flagpole?" Grace's scowl faded now that she understood why she had been subjected to a search and drug test. "The pictures were to protect you," Carey continued. "To show you had been injured and that it wasn't just a wild claim by a teenager looking to get out of trouble. Look at me. Grace, I know you understand how bad credit can affect you for years after you get everything straightened out. It works the same way in the correctional system."

"So I'm being punished because of what I did before, ma'am."

Carey shook her head. "It's more like Officer Baker isn't being punished because of what you've done before. She gets a free pass, but she's on notice that another complaint won't be so quickly dismissed."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Grace asked. "Just pretend it never happened, ma'am?"

"Is obsessing over it going to help?" Carey asked. "Let it go, Grace."

"Yeah, let it go," Grace said, her hands squeezing her upper anus and her eyes focused on the egg-shaped paperweight. It was happening again. She told the truth and it made no difference. "Let it go, let them do anything they want. It doesn't matter because no one will believe me. I tell the truth and it's like I don't know what I'm talking about or I'm lying or I'm confused and it didn't happen or he didn't mean anything by it or—"

"Wait a minute," Carey interjected. "He?"

Grace looked up at her. "What, ma'am?"

"You said he didn't mean anything by it," Carey said. "Who is he?"

Stricken by the slip of the tongue, Grace tried to recover. "I...I...I didn't mean he, ma'am," she said, her gaze lowering until she was looking at the paperweight.

Carey steepled her fingers. "Grace, what happened the summer before your junior year?"

Taken aback by the question, Grace looked away, her mind quickly going back to that fateful summer. "Nothing, ma'am."

"You know you just earned twenty," Carey said. "Look at me. Try again."

Grace wiped her palms on her thighs, quickly figuring out what to omit. "I got a new bike for passing tenth grade and I spent most of the summer hanging out with my friends, ma'am."

"You hung out with your friends all day and all night?"

"Not all the time, ma’am."

"And you were living with your mother?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Was anyone else living there with you?" Carey asked, her dark eyes seeming to be able to see into the teen's soul.

Grace hesitated, then bowed her head and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Look at me," Carey urged, leaning forward in her seat. "Who?"

Grace glanced up quickly, then looked at the egg again. "My mother's boyfriend, ma'am."

"The one that was here?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What happened?"

Grace looked away, feeling the old pain flaring up inside. Does she know? No, she can't. No one knows. She thinks he just hit me. So why is she asking all these questions? I can't tell her. I can't tell anyone. "He had a fight with my mother and she threw him out, ma'am."

"When did she throw him out? At the beginning or end of the summer?"

"End, ma'am."

Carey rubbed the bridge of her nose, then slowly blew out a breath.

"Grace, nothing you say here will be repeated to anyone. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"He can't hurt you anymore," Carey said, her voice gentle. "Tell me what he did."

"He hit me, ma'am," she said, falling back on her previous answer.

"He did more than that, didn't he?" Carey asked softly.

"Gave me pot, ma'am."

"I'm not talking about that and you know it, Grace. What else did he do to you?"

"He...he..." Grace felt the tightening in her throat and the sting in her eyes. "He was an asshole, ma'am." She saw a small smile on the instructor's face.

"I don't doubt that a bit," Carey said, her smile was quickly replaced by a more serious look. "Tell me," she urged.

Grace put her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. "Please, ma'am." She heard the creak of the chair, then felt the older woman kneeling next to her.

"I know it's scary," Carey said softly.

Grace sniffed. "Yes, ma'am."

A gentle arm reached around Grace's shoulders. "You can do it. You're a very strong young woman. I know you can."

The tears refused to stop streaming from her eyes. "I can't, I just can't, ma'am. Please don't make me." It was getting too hard. The feelings were too close to the surface. Her emotions were slipping out of her control.

"Tell me."

"No!" Grace jumped from her seat and bolted to the door only to be stopped by an even faster Instructor Carey.

"Sit back down."

"Stop asking me about it." Grace said, angrily wiping at her eyes.

"Grace--"

"No! Leave me alone." Grace grabbed at the door handle but was no match for the older woman's strength. The door refused to budge. "I'm not talking to you anymore," she said. "Let me go."

"You sit back down in that chair right now."

It would have been the right thing to do, but Grace was too upset and too far away from being in control to think clearly. She shoved the chair, knocking it over. "You can't make me!"

"You drop right this instant! Now!" Grace dropped, her palms flat on the short emerald green carpet. "That behavior is completely unacceptable. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am," Grace said as she started her pushups, the tears trickling down her cheeks.

"I don't care how upset you are. You do not walk out on a mentoring session, and you do not throw things!"

"Yes, ma' am."

"Now apologize."

"I'm...sorry, ma'am."

"Stand up." Grace looked straight ahead as the instructor stood at her right side. "Now you pick up that chair and you sit down and don't ever try a stunt like that again."

"Yes, ma'am." Grace righted the chair and wiped her face against her shirt as Instructor Carey returned to her own seat.

"And you wonder why I've put you in an anger management class?" Carey asked rhetorically. "You can't resort to violence to avoid dealing with your problems."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now," Carey gentled her voice. "I don't enjoy yelling at you but you can't lose control like that. Look at me. The longer you hold it inside, the more it's going to hurt."

Grace sniffled and swiped at her face. Please stop.

"You will get to a point where you have to talk," Carey said. "When you do, I'm here. Instructor Gage is here. We'll listen."

"I know, ma'am."

"I hope you do," Carey said. "Grace, I only want to help you. If he touched you sexually, the fault is his, not yours. No matter what he said. Look at me." She steepled her fingers. "Tell me what to do to help you."

Grace fixed her stare at the paperweight, shutting down as she had with the psychologist at Crestwood. It was the only way she had to protect herself from feelings too painful to bear. "Nothing, ma'am."

"I'm over here," Carey said, reaching out and taking away the paperweight. "I can't help you if you don't let me." She waited but Grace refused to respond. "All right, go wash your face and get ready for whatever class you have next." The teen rose and headed for the door. "Grace, this isn't the last time we'll be having this conversation."

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's too hot to be in BDUs," Jan grumbled, lifting her olive cap and wiping her brow. "They should at least let us get out of the camo shirts."

"Word," Latisha said, fanning herself with her hat. "Scary's coming."

"All right, girls, line up," Instructor Carey said as she arrived, also dressed in camouflage pants and shirt. She set the box she was carrying on the ground. "I bet you're wondering where Alpha Squad is. Instructor Gage came in early today so we could have this exercise. You have to work as a team to succeed at this task."

We're screwed, Grace thought to herself.

"There are four identical courses and the squads are going against each other for the best time," Carey continued. "There are blue flags hidden in this section of woods." She pointed at the trees behind the squad. "When you reach the finish line, each one of you must have a blue flag in your right side pocket. If it's in your shirt pocket, you lose. If it's in your left side pocket, you lose. One person missing a flag, you lose. Any questions so far?"

"No, ma'am," Bravo Squad said.

"When you have all nine flags, continue north until you reach the water tower. I'll give you further instructions then." Carey knelt down and opened the box. "Jones, pass these out." Taking one of the canteens, she stood up and unhooked her belt. "Loop it through your belt like this,"

she demonstrated. "I suggest you put it back here, not on the side where it would bounce against your hip and get in the way of your arm."

"Better it bounce off my ass," Jan said in a low voice to Grace.

"What good are empty canteens?" Grace asked as she took the plastic container and canvas carrying case. "Maybe we fill them at the water tower."

"So why give them to us now?" Jan said. "She could have had the box waiting at the tower."

"Yeah, but then we'll be timed," Grace said, tightening the web belt.

"So? We're probably gonna lose anyway," Jan said. "Christine always holds us back on these things."

"Enough chatter," Instructor Carey said, ending all the conversations. "Remember that teamwork will get you to victory and if the goal of being the best isn't enough for you, the winning squad gets a special treat, courtesy of your instructor." She removed the mirrored sunglasses, hooking them through her shirt pocket. "I bet a pint of ice cream would taste real good after a hard day of PT and classes, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am!" they shouted excitedly.

"Then I suggest you work hard and as a team to get the best time," Carey said, reaching for her whistle. "Bravo Squad ready?"

"Ready, ma'am," several girls said.

Carey blew her whistle. "Go."

"If you find one, help someone else," Campbell said as they split up and looked high and low for the elusive blue flags. Grace found one quickly, shouting out to let the others know. Some flags were hidden in the brush, others tacked up on the trees. The team spread out, covering the wooded area and finding the last flag dangling from a high branch.

"Well how the hell are we supposed to get it?" Jan asked as several made unsuccessful jumps at the flag taunting them from above.

"There's gotta be a trick to it," Grace said. "She said we had to work as a team to accomplish the goals."

"But we can't reach it and there's nowhere to hold onto so we can climb the tree," Jan said.

"If we can get some weight on that branch, I bet it'd come down to where we can reach it," Grace said, walking under the branch and studying how it arched and dipped. "Here. If we can get someone up to it, the weight should make it drop."

"It's at least twelve feet high," Jan said. "No one can jump that high."

"We can build a pyramid," Maribel said. "Like the cheerleaders do."

"You're definitely on the bottom, Bowen," Rosetti said.

"Bite me," Jan said, kneeling down and bracing herself. Grace knelt down next to her, offering her back for the next tier. Some of the girls argued about who would be a support and who would try to reach the branch. In the end, after much grumbling and time wasting, it was decided that Latisha would make the jump, being the lightest of the squad. Campbell took position on Jan's left side while Mo removed her glasses and became the fourth in the bottom layer.

"Watch that knee, Maribel," Grace said, wincing when the teen's knee pressed against her spine.

"I don't know if I can do this," Campbell said, adjusting her hands to lock her elbows. "Easy, Thompson, that's my friggin' back."

"Hey, it's high enough with two rows," Latisha said.

"Then hurry up and go," Grace said, feeling the strain of two girls' knees on her back. She felt the weight shift as Latisha climbed over the others to get to the top.

"Okay, I got it," Latisha said. "It won't come down far enough."

"Someone else get up there," Jan said. "And hurry the hell up."

There were several grunts and groans as Rosetti made the journey and gripped the branch. As Bravo Squad had hoped, the limb dipped enough for the last flag to be retrieved. "I'm letting go," Latisha said.

"I can't hold on," Campbell said a split second before her arms gave out, sending the pyramid of teens tumbling down. Since they were in the middle, Jan and Grace took the worst of it, squashed between the ground and two layers of girls blindly pushing with their arms and legs to get out of the heap.

"Nine buckets, one spigot, one barrel," Carey said as the teens entered the clearing. She pointed at the knothole near the top of the barrel. "Your goal is to fill the barrel until water starts to come out of the hole. Once I say clear, go west two miles along the dirt path, clearing each obstacle," Carey said. "It's going to be a long hot run, ladies. You should think about that."

"Once she says clear," Grace said. "Let's fill our canteens from the barrel."

"Take off our canteens, then fill them and put them back on?" Jan shook her head. "That'll waste too much time.”

"We don't have to take them off," Latisha said. "Just unsnap it from the case."

"Or loosen the belt and dunk the canteen in," Grace said. "Doesn't matter if we get wet. It's hot as hell already and we haven't even started running."

"Let's go, ladies," Cary said, "time is ticking away and so are your chances at getting ice cream." The teens scrambled to the buckets, then lined up at the spigot to fill them.

"Let's make a relay," Thompson said, handing her near-full bucket to Latisha and taking an empty one from Grace.

"Yeah, like those old bucket brigades they used for fires," Jan said, spreading out to make the chain from the tower to the barrel. "Don't fill them up so high because it's splashing out."

"Half full," Grace said. "It'll be lighter and easier to carry that way."

She grunted as she took the nearly full bucket from Thompson and passed it to Jan. "Watch it, it's heavy."

"Jeez, Thompson, make it lighter, will ya?" Jan said as water sloshed over the sides of the metal buckets. It took a few tries to get a rhythm going but once they did, Bravo Squad had no trouble making their bucket brigade work.

"We're halfway there," Mo yelled. "Keep 'em coming."

"I can only fill the bucket so fast," Thompson said.

"So what are we supposed to be learning from this?" Jan asked.

"Filling a barrel doesn't seem like a skill I'm going to be needing in the future."

"Well duh-uh," Grace said, handing her a bucket. "Think about it. If we each took turns filling a bucket and hauling it over there, we'd be tired and it'd probably take longer. Remember Carey said teamwork was the key. We're learning teamwork."

"Carey, huh?" Jan said, nudging her with an elbow. "What happened to Queen Bitch from Hell?"

Grace shrugged. "She's been easing up on the bitch lately. Even sat down and played cards with me the other night."

"You let her win, right?"

Grace passed another bucket. "I didn't let her win, she won because she plays gin better than I do."

"Uh-huh," Jan said. "Take my advice, if she asks you to play anything, let her win."

"Why? She's probably not a sore loser.”

"You really wanna take the chance to find out?" Jan shook her head.

"Why didn't they just let us play a game of softball or something? We have a ball field and never get to use it."

"I heard the state took the bats away after one girl cracked another girl's head open arguing balls and strikes," Thompson said. "Therefore we get to fill buckets with water."

"Almost there," Mo yelled. The squad moved faster, hoping each time a bucket was dumped that the water would be high enough to start coming out the hole.

"Get ready to fill your canteens," Grace said, reaching between bucket passes to loosen her belt.

"Clear!"

"Let's go," Jan said, the girls dropped the buckets and raced for the barrel. Water sloshed about as they pushed the canteens underwater and waited for the air bubbles to stop.

"Watch it," Latisha said when someone splashed water on her.

"Don't worry about it," Grace said, bracing her hands on the side of the barrel as the last canteen was filled. "It's so hot you'll dry in no time." Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and dunked her head. Oh that's cold, she thought, staying underwater for several seconds before standing up. "That felt good," she said, running her fingers through her wet blonde hair. She happily let the excess run down her back, soaking her shirt and pants.

"Come on, Grace, let's go," Jan said, waiting for her at the edge of the clearing near the trail.

''I'm coming," she said, running to catch up to the others.

The first obstacle was a pile of logs placed across the trail. It barely slowed them down and soon they were upon the second, and much more challenging, barrier. The squad stopped, unsure of what to do. "How the hell are we supposed to get past this?" Grace asked, staring warily at the wall made of cargo netting.

"Guess we climb," Jan said, grabbing hold and putting her foot on the bottom rung. As soon as she took her weight off the ground, the loose netting began to sway, taking her off balance. "Oh, no way." She jumped off and stood aside as Latisha tried with the same results.

"We have to keep the ropes from moving," Grace said, checking the slack in the netting. "If two of us hold it still, everyone else should be able to go up and over."

"And then what?" Rosetti said. "How are those two gonna get over?"

"Two of the people that make it over hold the net on the other side for them," Grace said.

"Well let's do something," Thompson said. "We're wasting time standing around here."

"Let's go," Grace said, tugging on the cargo netting. Rosetti grabbed the other side, creating the tension needed. There was enough room for two girls to go up at the same time, finding it much easier when the cargo netting didn't move around.

"Go, go," Jan urged, hooking her foot in the net when the first pair was halfway up. "You know they're doing this just to torment us."

"Watch, we'll probably lose by a couple of seconds," Grace said as Jan and Thompson began climbing. Looking further up the trail, she spotted the dark-haired figure leaning against a tree. Brown eyes met her; and Grace swore she saw the barest of smiles directed at her before Carey looked away. "Come on, let's go," she said to her teammates, hoping to raise their enthusiasm. Finally it was she and Rosetti left to conquer the netting. I can do this, she told herself as she grabbed hold. Just don't look down. "You'd better hold it tight, Jan."

"Don't worry, Maribel and I got it," Jan said. "Now climb."

Easy for you to say, she thought as she began to climb. Rosetti was faster than her, over the top and starting to come down the other side by the time Grace was halfway up. Gripping tightly with her hands, she moved her foot and pushed up. The wooden bar that marked the top of the netting wall was getting closer, which meant the ground was getting further away. Don't think about it, just keep climbing.

"Hurry up, Grace," Latisha yelled. "We're losing time."

Grace made the mistake of glancing down at her friend. Oh God, this is really high up. Just keep looking at the bar, she thought, forcing herself to look up. Still, the fear of falling from such a height was too much for her to take a chance, and she continued her slow pace until her hand touched wood. Made it.

“Okay, now-just roll over the bar and scramble down this side," Jan encouraged.

"Come on, Waters, move your ass."

"Bite me, Lopez," Grace snapped, leaning her upper torso over the bar. "I'm working on it." Don't look down. Don't look down. On three just roll over the bar and start going down. One, two...three. Closing her eyes, Grace pushed herself the rest of the way over the bar, then dropped to the ground several feet below, rolling as she landed.

"Jesus, Waters," Rosetti said. "You sure took fucking long enough." Grace stood up, twisting her arm to see the tear in the camouflage shirt and the abrasion on her elbow. "We'd better win," Rosetti said as they headed up the trail. "Or I'll kick your ass."

"Get in line," Grace said, unsnapping the canteen from her belt. "I don't hear them yelling, so it looks like we're running for a while." Grace took several swallows, letting some run down her face and soak her shirt.

"Hey, I hear something," Rosetti said.

"It's them," Grace said. "I hope this is the last obstacle."

"Why? Then we have the dead run to the finish," Rosetti said.

"It's better than climbing that net back there or crawling over logs."

Grace spotted the rest of the squad as soon as they crested the hill.

"Hurry up," Latisha said as the pair approached, the rest of the squad busily scrambling beneath netting staked a few inches off the ground. "Watch your canteens. Everyone's getting stuck by them."

"No problem," Grace said, unsnapping her canteen. "I'll carry it."

She dove to the ground, wiggling her head and arms beneath the netting. I'll bet this one was Carey's idea, she thought as she used her elbows and feet to push herself along. Did it ever occur to them that all this crawling around is going to ruin our clothes? She's gonna kill me already for tearing out the elbow of my camo shirt. She quickly felt to make sure the

loose button was still attached. I'll probably lose that too before this is over. It was slow going but much easier than scaling a rope wall, and soon the trio was on the way with the rest of the squad toward the finish line. Unfortunately the finish line was two miles further down the trail, and not one canteen had water in it by the time they spotted the finish line.

The squeals were loud as Bravo Squad realized they were the first to arrive. "Line up and show me those flags," Carey said, standing just beyond the finish line. "Good job," she said, blowing the whistle and pressing the button on her stopwatch. "Congratulations."

The teens yelped and gave each other high fives, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Grace walked over to Carey. "So now we get ice cream, right ma'am?"

"Yes, you do," Carey said, looking at her. "Your shirt is filthy, not to mention the rest of you."

Grace smiled. "That's what happens when I have to crawl around on my belly, ma'am."

Carey grabbed hold of the teen's arm. "Nice scrape. Any water left in your canteen?"

"No, ma'am."

Carey unhooked her own canteen. "Take that filthy thing off," she

said, unscrewing the plastic cap. "All right, hold your arm out."

"It's not that bad," Grace said, then remembered and added, "Ma'am."

"Good catch," Carey said, giving the teen a knowing smile as she used one hand to hold Grace's arm still and the other to rinse out the abrasion. "What happened to you at the second obstacle?"

"I was holding the net for everyone else, that's why I was last, ma'am," Grace said.

"I watched you," Carey said.

Grace looked at the ground. "I don't like climbing things, ma'am."

"What I saw wasn't a question of like and dislike," Carey said, letting go of the teen's arm and tightening the cap on her canteen. "You were scared."

"I'm afraid of heights," Grace admitted. "That's why I wouldn't go on that rope at the lake, ma'am."

Carey clapped her on the shoulder. "We'll work on that. In the meantime, pass the word I don't want any gloating winners. The others are going to be here any minute and I better not see any taunting or chest thumping, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am. I’ll tell everyone."

"Twenty pushups if I see anything remotely like that," Carey said.

"Yes, ma'am." Grace walked over to where her friends were standing.

"Hey," Jan said. "I didn't see you drop but I bet Scary was pissed that you tore your shirt, huh?"

"Naw, she didn't seem pissed to me," Grace said, buttoning her shirt.

"She did say we'd better be cool around the others when they come in. Said she'd drop us for twenty if anyone razzes them about losing."

"But that's the fun of winning," Latisha protested. "So when do we get the ice cream?"

"Dunno," Grace said. "Hey, I hear them coming. I'd better tell the others to watch what they say." Instructor Gage entered the clearing and walked over to where Carey was standing. Grace warned the others, then joined Jan and Latisha to await Alpha Squad's imminent arrival. As expected, Lauren Grenner and the others were unhappy to see Bravo Squad standing around. “Poor baby," Grace whispered to Jan.

"Yeah, all that work for nothing," Jan whispered back. "Can you imagine that fat ass getting up over the cargo net?"

"Probably had the rest of them pushing from below," Latisha chimed in.

"Hey, keep an eye out for the Goon Squad," Jan said. "I don't want to get dropped for twenty."

"Hell yeah," Grace said. "Especially for picking on Grenner."

"Oh look, here comes the toadie," Jan said as Sally Dawson walked over to them. "You need something, Toadie?"

"How the hell did you get here before us?" the short teen asked.

"Guess we work better as a team," Grace said.

"You cheated," Sally accused, slamming her fists on her hips. "You had to."

"Right," Jan scoffed. "We cheated with Scary watching us the entire time. Get a life, Dawson."

Grace spotted Instructor Gage heading their way. "You'd better walk away, Dawson."

"Fuck you, Waters," Sally said, completely unaware of Gage's approach. "Either you guys cheated or that fucking bitch made your course easier than ours."

"Ten hut!" It took all of Grace's strength not to smirk at the shocked look on Dawson's face. "Is there a problem here, Dawson?"

"No problem, ma'am."

"Really? Well, why don't we just go see if Instructor Carey thinks there might be a problem with the way you like to disrespect her." Gage took hold of Dawson's arm. "Let's go."

Jan waited until Gage and Dawson were out of earshot before speaking. "Bye Toadie. Have fun."

"Make sure you tell Carey how you think she helped her squad cheat to win," Grace added. She nudged Jan with her elbow. "Here comes Delta."

"And Charlie," Latisha said, pointing at the trail where Instructor Mitchell appeared. "Guess our break is over."

"Oh well," Grace said, rising to her feet. "Guess we'll go find out when we're going to get our ice cream."

"As soon as Scary's through with Toadie," Jan said, standing up at the same time Latisha did.

"Serves Dawson right," Grace said. "She shouldn't have accused Carey of cheating." The trio began walking over to where another cluster of Bravo Squad teens was standing.

"All right, girls, line up with your squad," Instructor Gage said, a folded-up piece of paper in her hand. Grace took position where she could keep an eye on Dawson's continued berating by Carey. The petite woman began pacing back and forth in front of the squads. "The race for the flags was won by Bravo Squad. The water barrel, Bravo." She looked down at the paper. "Log pile by Alpha and the cargo net was won by Delta Squad."

"Thanks, Waters," Mo mumbled from behind Grace.

"Charlie Squad took the belly crawl and Bravo won the dead heat," Gage continued as Dawson rejoined her squad. "Overall winner is Bravo Squad. Congratulations."

Jan nudged Grace with her elbow. "So where's the ice cream?" she whispered.

"All right, girls," Instructor Gage said. "We're going to give you the rest of PT to get yourselves cleaned up and ready for the rest of the day. Dismissed." Dirty, dusty, and tired girls began tramping down the hill toward the barracks.

"Go on ahead," Grace said to Jan. "I'll catch you at lunch."

"Okay." Jan bumped against Latisha. "So, which flavor?" she asked as they walked away.

Seeing Carey speaking with Instructor Mitchell, Grace waited near the edge of the clearing. The two women spoke at length, making the teen wonder if she should wait until later to ask, but then Carey looked over, spotted her, and held up one finger to indicate Grace should wait.

The instructors exchanged a few more words, then walked over to where she was standing.

"Yes?" Carey asked as Instructor Mitchell kept walking down the trail.

"What do I do about my shirt, ma'am?" Grace asked.

"You waited to ask me that?" She put her hand on Grace's shoulder and pointed her in the direction of the trail. "I don't think it's bad enough to warrant a new shirt, but it does need to be patched," she said as she removed her hand and they began walking. "I have some camouflage patches in my sewing kit."

Grace fingered the button dangling by a thread. "I gotta fix this too.

ma'am."

"Actually I see at least three buttons that could use some tightening up," Carey said. "Remind me tonight and I'll take care of it."

"I know how to use a needle and thread," Grace said. "Ma'am."

"Glad to hear it," Carey said. "However, a needle falls under the same rules as razors and there's nothing more boring than sitting there watching someone sew. I'd rather do it myself." She snapped her fingers. "Oh wait. I'm pulling night tour so I won't be back until after nine."

"I won't do anything with the needle but fix my shirt, ma'am."

"I'd love to say yes but I can't," Carey said. "You won't need your BDU shirt tomorrow anyway so it can wait."

"Okay."

Carey stopped. "Three...two...

"Ma'am," Grace said quickly.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood today," Carey said as she resumed walking.

"Would you have really dropped me, ma'am?"

"What do you think?"

"Um...out here by ourselves?" Grace shook her head. "I think you'd take pity on me after all the hard work I did on that obstacle course, ma'am."

"Maybe," Carey said. "And maybe I've been getting soft when it comes to you. Just keep an eye on it, Grace. I don't need any instructors telling me I'm letting you get away with something or playing favorites." The trail emptied out near the administration building. "I've got to get some paperwork done before afternoon classes. I'll see you in class."

"Yes, ma'am."

Though lights out was almost an hour before, Grace was still awake and sitting on the couch when Carey came in. "Hi."

"You should be sleeping," Carey said, kneeling to untie her boots. “Then again, why should tonight be any different from every other night I work late duty.”

"Everything okay?" Grace asked. "You're not usually this late."

"I had to catch up on some paperwork in the office," Carey said, setting her boots neatly by the door and heading to her favorite chair. "You girls are going to get a break tomorrow. I'm too tired to write up the test I was planning for SR."

"Cool."

"Don't get too excited," Carey said. "You're only going to get a day's reprieve." She rubbed her face and yawned. "Maybe two."

"Why did you have to work morning PT and the late shift?" Grace asked.

"All four instructors worked morning PT," Carey said. "Two of us still had to cover from dinner to lights out and it happened to be my turn."

"And you're doing PT tomorrow, right?"

"Uh-huh. We're going for a nice long run. Excuse me." Carey covered her mouth as another yawn hit.

"You should go to sleep."

"I am," Carey said. "Right now. Lie down. I'll get the lights."

"Okay, thanks," Grace said, slipping between the covers. "Good night, ma'am."

"Good night, Grace."

"Um..."

"What?" Carey said.

"When you say a nice long run, you mean three miles, right?"

Carey chuckled and made her way through the dark to her bedroom door. "Good night, Grace."

"You know you have an evil laugh, Instructor Carey?"

"Do I? Good. Save your strength for tomorrow. You'll need it."

"All right, girls, enough chatter," Instructor Donaldson said, causing them to come to attention. "You've had a month of three-mile runs. Those days are over!" Blue eyes darted from girl to girl. "You have grown both in body and spirit. I know you can do five miles." Several groans went up from the group. "And after everyone does twenty and stretches we'll get started."

Instructor Carey stepped forward, her eyes hidden behind mirrored glasses. "Now drop!"

Oh sure, Grace thought as she hit the ground. Not bad enough we have to run five miles, let's wear our arms out first.

Since Grace ran faster than Latisha and Jan, they quickly became separated as the line moved up the slight incline. She paid little attention to those behind her, concentrating instead on the tall figure in camouflage leading the pack. Oh sure, it's easy for you. You didn't have to do pushups first. She passed the three-mile mark, the crystal blue lake taunting her as sweat rolled down her face. Two more miles to go. I'll never make it.

Reaching the finish mark, Grace slowed down, then walked around to cool down as the other girls began trickling in. Bit by bit, everyone crossed the mark but one who was still out of sight. "It's Jennings again," Latisha said. "That fat ass ain't gonna make it."

"She's still at least ten minutes away," Grace said, looking down the road and seeing no one.

"Yeah, and every fucking minute we have to wait here is that much less we have once we get back to barracks," one of the girls standing near her said.

Grace turned to face her. "You try running five miles with an extra forty pounds strapped to your ass and see how easy it is, Rosetti."

"Suck my left tit, Waters."

"You gotta get Grenner to let go of it first," she said.

"Are you kidding?" Rosetti snorted. "I'd become an Amazon and cut it off before I'd let her near me. Besides, I'm not into dykes."

"Amen to that," Latisha said.

"I'm going.to go see where she is," Grace said, kneeling down and making sure her laces were tied securely.

"Why bother?" Jan said from her position lying on the ground. "Save your energy. Donaldson will get her here sooner or later."

"Yeah, well..." Grace began running down the trail, finding Jennings half a mile down the road with Instructor Donaldson barking at her heels.

"Hey...Grace," Jennings huffed. "What are you...doing here?"

"Thought you might want some company," Grace said. "The finish line is just over that hill." She ran alongside the overweight girl, slowing her pace to match.

"Let's go, Jennings," the blonde instructor said. "Waters, five miles isn't enough?"

"Just giving Christine a hand, ma'am," Grace said. "Come on, it's just a little more."

"I'll never make it," Christine huffed.

"Yes you will." Grace moved ahead slightly to keep herself in the other girl's vision. "Really, you're almost there." Once she matched the larger girl's pace, she sped up just a little bit. "Stay with me, just a little further." She smiled when Christine matched her pace. "Don't take a breath with each step," she said. "Try to slow your breathing down or you'll pass out."

"Let me...stop here," Christine practically begged, her breath coming in short pants.

"Come on, you can make it," Grace said, slowing down just a bit. "Listen, you don't want Grenner to have any more excuses to hassle you, do you?"

"That...damn...bitch," Christine huffed.

"Yeah," Grace encouraged, turning backwards to face the other girl.

"Just a little more." They crested the hill. "See? I told you," she said when the finish line came into sight. "After all you've done so far, this last little bit is a piece of cake."

"It's about time," Grenner complained as Christine crossed the finish mark.

"Doesn't matter how long it takes," Grace said. "She did it, that's what counts."

"Stay out of it, Waters."

"Make me, fat ass." Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Grace turned and walked away from her adversary. "Christine, you did a great jo—oof." She went face first into the ground, aided by a solid shove from Grenner.

"Grenner! You drop and give me twenty right now," Carey said as she approached. Grace stood up and brushed herself off. "Someone want to tell me what happened?"

"Lauren was giving me a hard time for being last, ma'am," Christine said.

"So why were you the one eating dirt?" Carey asked Grace.

"I told Grenner to stop picking on her, ma'am," Grace said.

"And what were you doing over here?" the dark-haired instructor asked. "I saw you sitting with Bowen and Jones ten minutes ago."

Instructor Donaldson walked up to them. "What's going on?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Carey said, looking pointedly at Grace.

"I went back to see how Jennings was doing, ma'am."

"She did," Donaldson said. "Last half mile or so."

Carey's features softened. "Why?"

"Um..." Grace looked around, seeing everyone in the near vicinity paying attention. "I just...I thought it was a good idea at the time, ma'am."

"Marilyn, can you...?"

"Sure," the blonde instructor said. "All right, girls, let's go."

"You stay," Carey said, putting her hand on Grace's elbow.

Guess it wasn't such a good idea after all, Grace thought as she watched everyone else depart.

"Now, the answer you didn't want to give in front of everyone else."

"She's always getting picked on for being fa-overweight, ma'am.” Grace said. "I just thought if I went back and ran with her that she wouldn't feel so bad."

"You mean you thought about someone else instead of yourself for a change?" Carey said. "Mark it on a calendar. Could be the start of bigger and better things." At first Grace thought her mentor was picking on her until she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. "Good job, Grace."

"Um, thank you, ma'am," she said, pleased at the compliment.

"All right, let's go before you miss calisthenics."

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said. Wouldn't want to miss that, she thought sarcastically as she followed Carey.

Carey poured a cup of coffee and walked to the table where Grace sat with her nose in one of her books. "How was AM today?" she asked as she pulled out a chair and sat across from the girl.

"Okay," Grace said, looking up from the textbook she was studying.

"Hmm, you must not have had to say anything," Carey said.

"Christine did most of the talking today," Grace said.

"Lucky you," Carey said. "What was the topic?"

"How anger is used to hide fear," she said.

"And you didn't have anything to say?" Carey took a sip of her coffee. "Of all the topics, I would think that would be an excellent one for you to take a closer look at."

"Yeah, well, we ran out of time so..." Grace shrugged.

"And you're not going to fool me into thinking whatever you're doing is due tomorrow," Carey said. "You think I don't know you're ahead in everything you have a textbook for?"

"I-I-I...how did you know?" she asked in a resigned voice, knowing it was useless to deny it.

Carey smiled shrewdly and laced her fingers. "I didn't." She paused. "Until now."

"What made you think so?"

"You're too bright to have to spend that much time with your nose in a book," Carey said. "Have you always done that? Read ahead?"

Grace nodded. "It made it easy for me with class because I knew what the teacher was going to talk about so I didn't have to pay that much attention. As long as I didn't disrupt class, the teachers left me alone."

"Instructor Donaldson said something to me about that," Carey said. "Shame I don't let you get away with hiding in the back of the room in my classes, hmm?"

"Can't hide in SD," Grace said. "Though I think you pick on me more than anyone else."

"You do, do you?" Carey reached for her coffee. "I wasn't aware of that. Why didn't you say anything before this?"

Grace shrugged. "I don't know. I figured you did it deliberately."

"I'll try not to single you out so much," Carey said apologetically. "Do I do that in SR?"

Grace thought about it. "Maybe a little."

"And maybe you'd love to be called on less often," Carey said. "I think I give you some breaks in SR." She smirked at the teen. "I've seen that panicked look on your face when I've asked a question and was deciding who to call on."

"Thanks," Grace said, watching as Carey finished her coffee in several long swallows.

"I need to get one of those things that you put the mug on and it keeps the coffee warm," Carey said as she put the empty cup on the coaster. "So why do you look like a deer caught in the headlights whenever the subject of sex is brought up?" She pointed at the teen. "Just like that."

Grace looked down. "It's embarrassing."

"You don't have to be embarrassed to talk about sex," Carey said. "It's part of life."

Staring at the table, Grace smiled nervously. "I've never talked to anyone about it."

“Well, Grace, your mother—"

“Asked me when I got my period if I had any questions," Grace answered before Carey could finish. "I told her no, she handed me a box of pads and that was the end of it."

"What about your father?"

"He left when I was seven," Grace said.

"Oh." Carey was quiet for a moment. "So what you know you've learned from health class and your friends?"

Grace leaned back and looked at her mentor. "Pretty much. I've seen some magazines too," she said, feeling a blush coming to her cheeks.

"You're seventeen and it seems silly to ask, but do you have any questions?" Carey asked.

"Um, no. I don't have any questions," Grace said, knowing she'd be too embarrassed to ask even if she did.

"Grace, I know it's easy to get wrong information from your friends," Carey said. "That's why you have SR three times a week."

"I know."

"Then also know if you do have a question, I'd rather you come to me and ask than to rely on what girls your own age think, or even worse, to do something you might regret later because you were too afraid to talk to me."

Grace nodded. "Okay."

"Did what I said stop at all before it went in one ear and out the other?" Carey asked. "I mean it, Grace. Believe it or not, I was seventeen once and I do know how scary it can be. I'm your mentor and that doesn't stop once you leave my office."

Grace smiled. "I'm well aware of that, trust me," she said.

Carey returned the smile. "You're a tough nut to crack. I need all the time I can get with you." She rose from the table and picked up her coffee mug. "You need to look at why the topic of sex bothers you so much." A devilish grin came to her lips. "Maybe I'll have you write a paper on it."

"Oh, please don't," Grace asked. "I'll be good, I promise."

Carey chuckled and walked to the coffeepot. "Now I know what to punish you with instead of pushups," she said. "Don't have a heart attack, Grace; I'll let it go for now, but seriously, you need to take a look at your fears. More coffee?"

"No thanks," Grace said, hearing the sound of Carey rinsing out the coffeepot seconds later. Now can we please change the subject? "So what's for PT tomorrow?"

"Ah, speaking of fears." Carey returned to the table. "You're going to conquer your fear of heights tomorrow."

"Huh?" She was sure she did not hear correctly. "Heights?"

"Heights," Carey said as she settled into her chair. "We're rappelling off the wall behind the ball field."

Grace's eyes-widened. "That big wall?"

"It's not that big," Carey said. "Four stories."

"And you want me to jump off the side of it?" She shook her head vehemently. "I can't do that."

"You will tomorrow," Carey said. "And you're not jumping off the side, you're walking down it with a rope to keep you in complete control. It's very easy."

"I'd rather run ten miles than do that," Grace said.

"Too bad for you, tomorrow we're rappelling," Carey said. "And next week we're going to start using the obstacle course which has a swing rope over the swamp, so you need to get over that fear and quick."

"I can't do it."

"Yes you can," Carey said. "And tomorrow I'm going to prove it to you."

"They've got to be kidding," Grace said, looking at the harness warily. "This is going to keep me from falling?"

"Sure," Latisha said excitedly. "I bet it'll be fun."

"I don't think throwing myself off the top of a building with nothing to stop me but a rope and harness is fun," Grace said, nervously opening and closing the D-ring. "You go ahead."

"She's gonna make you go, you know," Latisha said.

"I know," Grace said. "But I can put it off for a few minutes, can't I?"

"Let's go, Waters."

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, certain she would be seriously injured before this was over. She moved closer to the edge, her heart pounding harder when she saw the pavement below.

"Step up to the mark," Carey said. "I'll check your harness."

Grace hesitated, then stepped forward. The pavement looked so far away. "Oh God," she whispered.

"You'll be fine," Carey said, tightening the harness. "Everyone else has done it." A handle with a hook on the end was used to pull the rope over. "Here you go, put the rope through the ring and wrap it three or four times."

"What happens if I slip?"

"What happens if I slip, ma'am," Carey corrected, putting the rope in her hands. "If you feel you're going too fast, use your right hand to brake."

"What if my hand slips off...ma'am?" Grace asked, wiping her palm against her fatigues.

"Grace," Carey said gently. "Your hand won't slip because you're going to stay focused, and once you do it, you'll wonder what you were afraid of. Come on, set the rope and lock that ring."

Grace wrapped the rope around the D-ring once, then again, amazed at how much her hands were trembling. "I can't do this, ma'am."

"Yes you can," Carey said. "That's it, one more. Good, now lock the ring."

"What if the harness breaks, ma'am?"

"The harness won't break.”

“I'm scared of heights, ma'am."

"Then this is a great time to learn to conquer your fears. Step forward."

"What if the rope breaks?"

Strong hands gently squeezed her shoulders. "I checked the rope, Grace. Every inch of it. I checked your harness. You need to trust me when I tell you that you can do this. Now step forward to the black line."

The black line was only a few inches from the edge, giving Grace a clear view below. "Oh God," she said, quickly moving back until she slammed into an immovable force. "I don't want to do this. ma'am."

"Grace," Carey said, her breath warm on Grace's ear. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said, feeling the heat of Carey's body against hers, then the loss when the instructor moved back.

"You know I would never make you do anything I didn't think you were capable of?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Grace, trust me. Use your left hand to guide and your right to brake. When you step off, get your feet under you and flat against the building. It's just like walking, only gravity is going in a different direction. Grace, you can do this. I know you can. Now step up to the mark."

Grace took a deep breath, then gripped the rope. "Yes, ma'am."

"All right, now bring your right hand back and grab hold of the rope. Step out and plant your feet against the wall. You can do it."

When she looked over the side, the ground seemed even further away than before. Grace thought her heart was going to pound its way out of her chest when she put her right foot on the edge of the building. On three. One…two...okay, everyone else has done it. It can't be that bad. One...two…three. Pushing off, Grace scrambled to get her feet between her and the wall.

"Get your feet under you," Carey called from the top of the building. "You're doing great."

Great was not how Grace would have described it. Terrifying was a better word in her mind. Clinging to the rope for dear life, she tried to calm down and pay attention to what she had to do. Feet flat against the wall, straighten up so I'm almost standing sideways.

"That's it, Waters," Carey's voice came from above. "Straighten up a little more. That's good. Now ease up on the brake and slowly walk down."

Grace shook her head vehemently.

"Unless you plan on being a monkey and climbing back up, you have to go down," Carey said. "Ease up just a little." Grace did and found herself slipping, but gripping the rope stopped the downward descent. "That's it," her mentor encouraged. "Controlled slippage. Ease up again."

"Come on, Grace," Latisha's voice called from below. "It's really fun."

Bullshit, Grace thought to herself as she slowly made her way down the wall. When she was close enough, she let go of the rope with her right hand and dropped the last three feet to the ground. "Thank God that's over."

"See? I told you it was easy," Latisha said. "Come on, let's get back up there."

"Oh no," Grace said, looking up, way up. "You go. I'll stay down here."

"You have to go back up or she's gonna come get your ass," Latisha said. "You know that."

"She can't make me do that again," Grace said, her heart rate slowly returning to normal. "Once was bad enough."

"What's the problem, Waters?"

"Nothing, ma'am," she said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm afraid of heights, ma'am."

"I just watched you scale down the equivalent of a four-story building," Gage said. "I'd say you're well on your way to conquering that fear. Get back up there and do it again."

"Yes, ma'am," she said in a resigned voice, following Latisha and Jan to the stairs. "Please just shoot me now and get it over with." When they reached the top of the wall, Grace deliberately lagged behind, letting everyone else take their second turn before her.

"Let's go, Grace," Carey said. "You've already made it once."

"Isn't once enough?"

"You really want me to answer that question?" Carey asked. "Get over here."

Grace grunted in frustration and tore the paper out of her notebook.

"Problem?" Carey asked, leaning against the archway between the kitchen and living room.

"Just PF homework," she said. "We're supposed to figure out how much our monthly income has to be and set a budget."

"That should be easy enough for a math whiz like you," Carey said. "Just write down your expenses, add them up, then you'll be able to do your budget."

"It's not that easy," Grace said. "We're supposed to use it to figure out how much income we need to have and I can't figure it out."

"Just use all that algebra you've learned," Carey said, entering the kitchen and sitting down next to her at the table.

"How?" Grace said.

"Get a fresh piece of paper," Carey said, rising from her seat and going to the refrigerator. "You want some real life uses? Let's try this one. X equals the amount of money you need to live on." She returned to the table with two apples, putting one in front of Grace. "So are you going to live in a nice apartment or a dump?"

"A nice one, of course," Grace said.

"That's going to run you at least six hundred. We'll assume you're not going to live in a high cost of living area like Boston or New York." Carey took a bite out of her apple. "I've watched you eat. Figure three fifty for food and household things."

"That much?" Grace asked with surprise.

"Easily," Carey said. "And don't forget about your utilities."

"Included with rent?"

"Not a chance," Carey said. "Electric and heat will run you at least a hundred a month if you live in a temperate climate. More if you live in the north."

"A hundred for utilities," Grace said, scribbling the number down on the paper.

"Phone and cable?"

"Sure," Grace said. "That's what, fifty?"

"More like fifty each," Carey said. "So what do you have?"

Grace added up the numbers. "One thousand fifty."

Carey gave her a humorless smile. "That's with no going out to eat, no new clothes, no car or bus fare, no Internet, and no extras. Now there's 4.3 weeks in a month, so how much do you need to earn each week to make ends meet?"

Grace looked at the paper. "So I divide 1050 by 4.3 to get the weekly amount." Carey flashed her the rare smile. "Let's see...so I move the decimal point...that's a two...and that's four...$244.18."

"Let's make it easy," Carey said. "Let's say you need to make $250.00."

"So if I need to make $250.00 a week and there's forty hours in a work week," Grace began writing out the equation. "So it would be X times forty equals $250.00."

"So forty X equals $250.00. Figure it out," Carey encouraged.

"6.25," Grace said cautiously, looking to the older woman for confirmation.

"So you think a job paying six and a quarter an hour is enough for you to live on?" Carey asked.

Grace rechecked her figures, then nodded. "Yeah. So if I got a job paying seven bucks an hour, I'd have enough for extras."

"You think so?" Carey took the pencil and paper. "Every week when you get paid, you'll get a pay stub. 34 of my pay goes to either federal or state taxes. Another 6 goes into my retirement fund and twenty bucks a week is deducted for my insurance." She wrote out an equation. "Now taking that into account, how much do you need to make?"

Grace did the math. "Over 375 or...9.375 dollars an hour."

"Let's round up to ten," Carey said. "And again, that's without many of the extras."

"Wow," Grace said, surprised by the figure.

"Are you qualified for a job that pays ten dollars an hour?" Carey asked. "I'd like to see you find one without a college degree."