Graceful Waters

FIVE MONTHS

Grace was surprised to see a very muddy Carey open the door. "Get newspapers and make a path to the kitchen for me, please," the instructor said.

"What happened?" Grace asked, taking the neatly folded paper from the coffee table and protecting the section of carpet between the door and the kitchen. "You look like you fell into the swamp."

"I smell like it too," Carey said, following the newspaper trail into the kitchen. "The swing rope broke." The once white, but now slimy brown, shirt was peeled off and tossed to the floor next to the washing machine. "Oh, that stinks."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Grace asked.

"No," Carey answered, pushing her shorts down, then sitting on the floor to unlace her boots. "Actually yes, get me a large bath towel, please."

"Sure." Grace went to the bathroom and returned with the towel. "Here you go."

Carey stood up, her sport bra and panties stained from the swamp. ·'Turn around." Grace did so, allowing the instructor to finish stripping off the rest of her clothes and cover herself with the towel. "All right, I'm going to take a shower," Carey said, moving past Grace. "I'll take care of the mess when I get done."

"Okay," Grace said, watching the towel-clad woman retreat to the bathroom. Once she heard the water running, the teen gathered up the muddy clothes and put them in the washing machine. Unsure what to do with the boots, she used paper towels to wipe off the muck and clean them up as best she could, then set them on the front steps to dry out. "What a mess," she said aloud when she got a good look at the kitchen floor. Reaching under the sink, she found the bucket.

"There, that's better," Carey said when she entered the living room. I washed my hair three times and I swear I still smell that swamp." She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. "Where's my clothes?"

"I put them in the washer," Grace said. "I didn't know how to clean your boots so I put them on the steps to dry."

"You didn't have to do that," Carey said, then gave the teen a smile. 'Thank you."

"You're welcome," Grace said. "It didn't make sense for you to get all cleaned up and then touch those filthy clothes."

"I appreciate it," Carey said, opening the washer and adding detergent. "I see you did the floor too."

Grace shrugged. "Only took a few minutes. I didn't want you to have to do it."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," Grace said, her heart rate rising at the smile given to her. "I'm glad I could help."

Carey rubbed the back of her neck. "I think I pulled something."

"Would you like me to rub it for you?" Grace offered, trying hard to hold back her excitement at the possibility of touching the older woman's skin.

"Ah, no." Carey grimaced. "I don't think it would look good to have you sitting here rubbing my neck. I'll put some deep heating rub on it."

"I don't mind," Grace said, feeling her chance slipping away.

"No," Carey said, unknowingly crushing the teen's hopes. "Thanks for the offer, though."

"Urn, you know the pulsating head on the shower might help," Grace

said, looking at the washing machine instead of the object of her lust. "It'd be like a massage."

"I never thought of that," Carey said. "Is that what you've been using it for?"

"Huh?" Grace froze, unable to think. How did she know?

"I've gone in a couple of times and found it set on the pulsing one," Carey said.

"Oh, yeah. I um...well, my back sometimes from PT." Oh, please buy that.

Carey rubbed her neck again. "Maybe I'll give that a try first," she said.

"I'll get it," Carey said, rising from the recliner to answer the door.

"What's up?"

Instructor Gage stood in the doorway holding the two broken ends of rope. "Take a look."

From her vantage Grace could not see but whatever Carey saw, it made the dark-haired woman bright red with anger. "Waters, take your books and report to the barracks until I come get you," Carey said without looking at her.

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, quickly gathering her papers. The instructors were silent as she left.

"Hey, girl," Latisha said as Grace entered the barracks. "What are you doing here?"

"Carey and Gage wanted to talk about something so I got booted," Grace said, flopping down on her friend's cot.

"Hey, Waters."

"Hey, Jennings," Grace said, motioning the girl to join them. "You did great on the obstacle course yesterday."

"Thanks. You know I lost another five pounds?"

"I thought you looked thinner," Grace said.

"Yeah, now we don't have to strap 'wide load' to her ass anymore," Latisha teased, then dodged a playful swat from Jennings.

"Keep it up and I'll use those dreadlocks to mop the floor," Jennings bantered. "I'm still bigger than you."

"Not by much," Grace joined in. "Your ass is going to need a sign soon."

"Oh no, you didn't say anything about my ass, girlfriend," Latisha said, giving Grace a light shove.

"Well look who's here," Grenner said as she and Dawson approached the trio. "If it isn't Scary's little bitch."

"Go to hell, Lauren," Grace said, aware of how quiet the barracks suddenly became.

"You gonna make me or are you going to sic your pet Scary on me instead?"

"Fuck you."

"Naw," Grenner said. "I wouldn't want to make Scary jealous."

"Ignore her," Christine said. "She's just trying to cause trouble."

"Stay out of it, fat ass."

"Leave her alone," Grace said. "You got a problem with me, deal with me. You got a problem with Instructor Carey, take it up with her."

Grenner hopped up on her toes and pretended to tinkle a pair of bells. "Oh, it's Instructor Carey, is it? Is that what she makes you call her when you're down on your knees in front of her?"

"She probably calls her Mistress Carey," Dawson chimed in.

"You got something to say, Shorty?" Jan said as she entered the barracks, moving between the pair and Grace.

"Leave her alone, Bowen," Grenner said.

"Make me," Jan said.

"Ten hut!" The girls scrambled to positions, Grace moving to the foot

of her old cot frame as Instructor Donaldson entered the barracks. "Formation. Now!"

"What's going on?" Grace asked in a low whisper after standing there for ten minutes with no sign of an instructor.

"Don't know, but Scary Carey is pissed as hell," one of the girls behind her answered. "I saw her and Gage a few minutes ago heading for-uh-oh. Here they come."

The group immediately silenced as Gage and Carey entered the formation area. Grace noted that Carey was wearing the mirrored sunglasses, making it impossible for her to see the instructor's eyes. Still, even with the distance between them, Grace could see the tightness in Carey's jaw. "She's really pissed," she whispered, catching Latisha's slight nod with her peripheral vision.

"Obviously we, as your instructors, have failed," Carey said, throwing the two pieces of swing rope on the ground in front of the group. "We have spent over four months teaching you about responsibility and consideration for your fellow human beings. But you haven't learned a damn thing, have you?" She picked up the short end of the rope and held it up in the air. "I was on this when it broke." Grace saw that while there were a few strands that appeared frayed, the rest appeared to be neatly cut. "Someone deliberately rigged this rope to break," Carey continued. "I want that person front and center right now." Grace looked around, seeing others also wondering who the culprit was. "Fine," Carey said after a few seconds. "You are a team, the actions of one affect the whole. Since no one wants to come forward and take responsibility, everyone will pay."

"You think we've been rough on you so far?" Gage added. "You're going to be crying for your mommas by the time we're through. Now drop for forty!"

"They're trying to kill us," Grace said, bringing her elbows up to touch her knees.

“Stop the chatter, Waters," Gage said as she passed. "This isn't social hour."

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, exchanging a look with Latisha.

"Carey, I think these girls could use a good long run, don't you?" Gage asked.

"Give them time to think about what it means to respect other people's property," Carey said. "Ten hut." The girls all jumped to attention, though not as fast as usual, fatigue slowing them down. "Are you having fun yet?"

"No, ma'am," came a chorus of teenage voices.

"Do you like that one of you is making the rest of you suffer?"

"No, ma'am."

"If you don't like it now, let's see how you feel after a nice five-mile run. Move it!"

"Just kill me and get it over with," Grace said as she collapsed on the grass, joining the half-dozen others that had finished the run.

"I would but I'm too tired," Jan said from her prone position. "You tell me who fucked with that rope though and I'll find the energy."

"Make that two," one of the other girls chimed in.

"Wha...what do you think they're gonna do to us next?" Grace asked.

"Call ambulances to haul our lifeless bodies away," someone said as she joined the group. "It's gotta be after eleven."

"They'll let us go to bed soon, I bet," Grace said. "They can't keep us up much longer."

"I heard some of the other girls talking," Latisha said. "They think Dawson did it."

"Why?"

"She took a hit from Scary yesterday during barracks inspection, snuck some food back from the mess hall."

"Yeah but everyone's been caught at some point doing that," Grace said. "Carey could have really been hurt in that fall. Personally, I bet Grenner had something to do with it. I still say she's the one that sliced up the bunks."

"Can't prove it," Latisha said. "I can't tell you how many times her bunk's been ripped apart. If she has a knife, she's got it hid real good."

"Please tell me you're letting us sleep in tomorrow," Grace said as she trudged up the steps to the cabin.

"You can sleep in," Carey said, opening the door. "I'll get you up before I leave. You'll still have half an hour before formation."

Grace sat down on the couch and grabbed her pant leg to pull her left foot up over her right knee. "But it's almost one thirty," she said, tugging at her boot lace, which stubbornly refused to come free. "I'll never make it on four and a half hours' sleep."

"You wouldn't have to if one of your buddies came forward and told the truth," Carey said, removing her own boots and setting them by the door. "Here, let me help you with that."

"But why punish all of us?" Grace asked, moving her tired hands out of the way so Carey could undo the laces. "You know I didn't do it."

Carey smiled and tugged the boot free. "I never thought you did," she said. "Give me your other foot. Grace, I'm not doing this to be mean. This is more than just finding out who did it. What if I didn't do a test run first? What if it was one of you girls on that rope?"

"I think Grenner did it," she said, closing her eyes as the other boot was removed.

"You think or you know?"

"Think."

"I can't punish her for what you think," Carey said. "Lie down."

Grace waved her hand. "I'll get it."

"Down," Carey said, rising and getting the linens. "You care about the sheet?”

"No."

Carey unfolded the blanket and tossed it over her. "Lift your head.”

"Too tired," Grace mumbled.

"Uh-huh," Carey said, squeezing her hand between Grace's head and the cushion, then lifting and shoving the pillow in place. "Good night."

Blue eyes opened. "Wait. Don't I get a hug good night?" She held her arms out expectantly.

"I think you're taking advantage of this hug thing," Carey said, though she knelt down and accepted a short hug. "Now go to sleep."

"Good night, Carey."

"Night, Grace."

"Hey," Latisha said as Grace entered the formation area. "You won't believe what happened last night."

"What?"

"A bunch of girls started in on Hathaway, saying she's the one that screwed with the rope," Latisha said.

"Did she admit it?" Grace asked.

"Hell no," Latisha said. "But Grenner said she saw Mo near the tool shed yesterday."

Knowing there were a few minutes before the instructors arrived, Grace walked over to where Hathaway and several other girls were standing. "Mo."

"I didn't do it so go fuck off, Waters," Mo said. "I don't give a shit what Grenner says. I was nowhere near the damn tool shed yesterday."

"So why would she say you were?" Grace asked.

"Because she's a ho with nothing better to do," she said, pushing her glasses up on her nose. "Besides, what the fuck was she doing near the shed to see me in the first place?"

"You think I want to spend all day doing PT?” one of the other girls said. "If I thought Hathaway did it, I'd turn her ass in myself."

"No you wouldn't," Rosetti said. "Then you'd be a snitch and I'd have to jump you. I can't stand snitches."

"Fuck that," Mo said. "I'm sick of getting punished for something someone else did. I'd tell Scary and Gage in a second."

"Ten hut."

Everyone fell into formation, apprehensive of what the day would bring.

“Another day, another chance to do the right thing," Gage said, beginning her usual pacing in front of the group. "Are you tired?"

"Yes, ma'am," the group said.

"You think you deserve a break today?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well this isn't McDonald's!" the short woman yelled. "And yesterday is going to look like a trip to Disneyland compared to today if I don't get some answers, and I mean right now!" She took two more paces, then said, "All right, I hear who did it and you can all go back to the barracks until lunch. You want to protect your friend, your buddy, the one who's got your back, then you can have a five-mile run followed by two trips through the obstacle course and then another run before lunch. How's that sound? A nice relaxing Sunday or a day of hell?"

Oh please, someone narc Grenner out, Grace thought.

"Must be a day of hell you want then," Gage said. "Now move."

Grace set her tray down and dropped into her seat. "Heard anything?"

"Nothing," Latisha said. "Everyone thinks Grenner or Hathaway did it."

Dipping her French fry into a dollop of ketchup, Grace shook her head. "My money's on Grenner."

"I bet Dawson knows," Latisha said.

"No doubt," Grace said. "But she's not talking either. I can't believe that bitch is smart enough to hide that knife all this time. They've searched the barracks I don't know how many times, and there's no sign of it?"

"It can't be in the barracks," Latisha said. "They've done everything but flip over our uniform lockers."

Grace popped another French fry into her mouth. "Yeah, but they've searched the lockers, right?"

Latisha nodded, then used her fork to swipe two fries from Grace's plate. "Maybe she hid it in a tree somewhere."

"It's gotta be in the barracks," Grace said, pushing her chair back. "I'm gonna take a look."

"I'll go with you," Latisha said.

As Grace and Latisha were leaving, they ran into Jan and Mo.

"You're going in the wrong direction," Jan said. "Lunch is that way."

"We're gonna check the barracks," Grace said.

"Don't waste your time," Mo said. "Viking and Scary checked while we were running our asses off."

"That knife has to be somewhere," Grace said. "Come on, Latisha."

"Hang on, I'll go with you," Jan said.

"What the hell," Mo said, wiggling her glasses. "I'm not really in the mood for Z-burgers anyway."

The group entered the barracks, Latisha staying by the door to stand guard. "Start with the bunk?" Jan asked.

“The locker," Grace said, opening the metal doors.

"I'm taller, I'll check the shelf," Jan said while Grace knelt down and peered at the base.

"You know there's about two or three inches between the bottom and the floor?" she said, banging her knuckles on the metal.

"Unless she made a trap door there's no way to get to it," Mo said. "Those things are too heavy to move."

"No," Grace said, disappointed. "There's no sign of that."

"Nothing here," Jan said. "Maybe Dawson's hiding it?"

"You think Lauren would trust Sally to do that?" Mo asked.

"Well, let's check her bunk too," Jan said.

"Might as well," Grace said, rising to her feet. "How heavy is this anyway?"

"Let's see," Jan said, moving to the side of the locker and pushing on it. "Oh shit, what did they make this out of, lead?"

"Here, I'll help," Mo said. Together they were able to tilt it sideways.

"Hang on," Grace said, dropping to her belly. "I'll look beneath. Can you lift it a little more?"

"It's not like I have anything to hold onto here," Jan said. "Be quick, will ya?"

"It's too dark," Grace said when it was lifted another inch. She reached in, hoping to feel the elusive weapon.

"Look out," Jan said as she lost her grip.

"Ah, damn. Get it off, get it off!" Grace yelped.

"What happened?" Latisha asked as she came running over.

Grace pulled her hand free and sat up. "Fuck. Oh damn, that hurt."

"I'm sorry," Jan said. "It slipped and I didn't know your hand was under there."

There was an indentation across the back of Grace's hand where the metal had pressed into her skin. She slowly flexed her fingers, then made a fist. Damn! She stood up and shoved Grenner's bunk out of the way. "Screw it," she said, grabbing hold of the opposite side of the locker. "Let's tip it."

The heavy metal locker crashed to the floor, the noise echoing throughout the barracks. There on the floor previously hidden by the locker was the sharpened butter knife. "I knew it," Jan said.

"I'll kill her," Grace said angrily.

"Oh shit," Latisha said a split second before the barracks door opened.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Grenner shouted, racing toward her bunk.

"You bitch," Grace said, diving at the larger teen and slamming her shoulder into Grenner's midsection. The force sent them both crashing to the concrete floor. "You could have killed her!" She took a punch in the side, returning it with a solid hit of her own.

"Fuck you!" Grenner spat as she pulled Grace's hair. "Scary's...slut. Oof."

Grace raked her fingers across the other teen's face, forcing Grenner to release the hold on her hair. She heard the sound of bunks moving but could not turn to see what was going on as hands gripped her shirt and jerked her off balance. She tried to roll out of the way but Grenner's boot caught her in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of her and forcing Grace to curl up in a defensive position as she fought to regain her breath. Helpless to protect herself, she suffered a painful shot to the back before she heard Jan shout and tackle Grenner. "Ohh," she groaned, slowly rolling to a sitting position. She saw Latisha and Mo keeping Dawson pinned face down on the floor while Jan continued to trade blows with Grenner. Grace pushed herself to her feet, then charged at her enemy. "Bitch!" she yelled, hooking her arm around Grenner's neck. Together with Jan she managed to get the larger teen down to the floor. "Not so tough without your damn knife, are you?" she said, ignoring the shouts and voices behind her. "You have a good laugh when she fell? That give you a fucking thrill?" Grenner reached for her arm, trying to break her grasp, but Grace was too angry to let go. "Huh? You're not laughing now, are you?"

"Let...go."

"Not so funny now, huh?" Grace asked through gritted teeth, tightening her hold.

"Grace, let go," Jan said, tugging on her arm. It took both hands but she finally separated them, Grenner rolling away and gasping for air while Grace held her midsection and trembled with anger.

"They're coming," Rosetti said. When the doors opened, Mo and Latisha released Dawson.

"The knife is right here, ma'am," Mo said, pointing by the fallen locker when Carey and Instructor Donaldson entered. Gage followed, taking several girls aside to find out what happened.

"I don't know anything about it, ma'am." Grenner said as she got to her feet. "They must have planted it there."

"No we didn't," Jan said as Grace got to her knees, then used the bunk to stand up. "We tipped the locker over and it was there, ma'am."

Carey walked over and picked up the knife. Even from the distance Grace could see the tightening in her mentor's jaw. "Instructor Donaldson, take Grenner to my office and keep her there."

"Let's go," the blonde instructor said, grabbing the teen by the arm. "It's a setup," Grenner protested. "Waters and Bowen, they put it there."

"Just get moving," Donaldson said, pushing Grenner toward the door. Mitchell arrived, stopping at the entrance to get updated by the other instructor.

"Dawson!"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Where did the knife come from?"

"No idea, ma'am."

"You had your chance," Carey said, putting the knife in her back pocket and reaching for the teen. "Let's go. Instructor Gage, take those two." She pointed at Grace and Jan.

"The rest of you get this place cleaned up," Instructor Mitchell said.

"We're in trouble," Jan whispered.

"Not a word," Gage said. "Not a sound from either of you until I ask you a question, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," they said.

"All right," Gage said after Jan and Grace gave their versions of what happened. "Bowen, go back to the barracks and help the others clean up the mess you helped make."

"Yes, ma'am."

Great, Grace thought as Jan left the room. I am in so much trouble.

"I can only assume there's a clone of you that sits in my Anger Management class," Gage said.

"She tried to kill Instructor Carey, ma'am," Grace said.

"First of all, I don't think a fall into a swamp is going to kill anyone," Gage said. "And that still doesn't give you the right to put your hands on someone else, no matter how mad you get. You know that."

"I know, ma'am," Grace said.

"You may think that we don't know what's going on outside the classrooms," Gage said. "But I know a great deal more than you think. I know you've been labeled by Lauren and her friends as Scary's bitch."

Grace nodded. "It's just talk, ma'am."

"Does it bother you?"

"No, ma'am, they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

"Looks like it worked," Gage said. "You could have seriously hurt her when you choked her."

"She shouldn't have cut that rope, ma'am."

"Would you be this upset if someone else had been on the rope when it broke?" Gage asked.

"I...I don't know, ma'am," Grace said. "I guess it would depend on who it was."

Gage stopped pacing and sat down on the folding chair. "Instructor Carey doesn't need you to fight her battles."

"I know, ma'am. It's just that..." Grace put her elbows on her thighs and buried her face in her hands. "I can't explain it. You wouldn't understand, ma'am,"

"It really must be a clone that goes to AM if you don't think that I'm capable of listening and understanding. What's going on, Grace?"

"I can't talk to you about it, ma'am."

"Then talk to Instructor Carey."

Grace snorted. "I definitely can't talk to her about it."

"Is the problem with her?"

With her? It is her. "It's my problem to deal with, ma'am. You can't help me."

"Grace, if you need to talk, I'm here," Gage said.

"Do you have to tell her what we talk about?"

Gage reached out and pulled Grace's hands away, forcing her to look at her. "If it involved hurting yourself or someone else, yes I would."

I'm already hurting. Every time I look at her. "I like Instructor Carey." Taking a chance, she looked up at Gage. "I mean I really like her."

"I see," Gage said. "Have you talked to her about this?"

Grace shook her head. "No way. She'd kick me to the infirmary until graduation." She rubbed her hands together. "Please don't say anything to her."

"What are you going to do?"

Grace shrugged. "What can I do? She'd never be interested in me."

"Probably not," Gage said. "You can't change that."

"So what do I do?"

"My first suggestion is to talk to Instructor Carey about this."

Grace shook her head. "I can't do that," she said. "It's my problem."

"Then you need to learn to accept the things you cannot change," Gage said. "You can't make her love you." She put her hand on the teen's shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am. I know that."

Gage shook her head. "Okay, Waters, I'll let Instructor Carey decide what your punishment will be for fighting. Now go on."

"Yes, ma'am."

Grace slowly walked to the cabin, unsure of what mood Carey would be in after the fight. Opening the door, she spotted the dark-haired woman sitting in the recliner. "Hello, ma'am," she said, hesitating by the door.

"Think I’m about to drop you for a hundred pushups, don't you?"

Grace nodded and closed the door. "At least."

"I should," Carey said, rising from her chair. "You had no business fighting." She stopped in front of Grace and cupped her chin. "I will tell you that I'm very disappointed in you for that." She ran her finger along the length of the scratch on Grace's face. "You're on restriction until graduation. Now go in the bathroom and put some antiseptic on that cut so it doesn't get infected."

"Carey?" Grace lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"And you'll never do it again, right?"

"Right."

Carey sighed. "What am I going to do with you? Go wash up. I'm going to make a pot of coffee."

"Okay." Grace walked into the bathroom, shutting the door and the world out behind her. God, what a day. Closing her eyes, she put her hands on the vanity and let out a deep breath. Gage said she wouldn't say anything, but she's Carey's buddy. What if she does? Oh, I'd never be able to face Carey if she did that. She's mad at me enough for fighting. She turned on the cold water and let it run for several seconds before splashing some on her face. Now I have to go face her and explain why I lost it with Grenner. How am I going to explain that? Sorry, Carey, the thought of you getting hurt bothered me so much I put someone in a choke hold? She shook her head. That'd go over like a lead balloon. Shutting the water off, she opened the medicine cabinet and found the tube of antiseptic cream. She finished applying the cream, then put the tube away and stared at herself in the mirror. "You screwed up good this time," she said to her reflection. Taking advantage of the privacy, she lifted her shirt and hissed at the discoloration on her lower ribcage. She twisted but could not see the bruise she knew was forming on her back. If Gage saw these she'd send me to the infirmary for sure. Tucking the shirt into her pants, she took one last look at herself. Time to go out there and face her, she thought, certain Carey was not finished reprimanding her about the fight.

"I thought you fell asleep in there," Carey said when Grace entered the kitchen.

"Sorry."

Carey pointed at the table. "Sit. The coffee's almost done."

Grace did as she was told. Here it comes, she thought when her mentor took the chair next to her.

"You're very lucky, you know," Carey said. "In case you didn't see anyone on your way back here and hear it from the teenage grapevine, Sally Dawson admitted she helped Lauren hide the knife and played lookout while the bunks were destroyed as well as cutting the rope."

"That's good."

"I'm not finished," Carey said. "By all accounts, you went after Lauren and started the fight."

Grace looked down at her hands. "Yes, I did."

"You're still that upset about your bunk being ruined?"

It was then that Grace realized her mentor had no idea what the fight was really about. Maybe she could pull it off after all. "She's done more than that," Grace said. "She let everyone be punished for something she did."

"You still should have kept that temper of yours under control," Carey said. "You've been doing so well lately."

The sound of disappointment in her mentor's voice bothered Grace more than any amount of yelling could ever do. "I'm sorry."

"People are going to do things to upset, annoy, or even hurt you. That doesn't allow you to resort to violence. I thought you wanted to go to college, not end up in Irwin serving time for assault."

"I do," Grace said.

"Then make a decision," Carey said. "College, or a life of answering to guards and working in the prison laundry."

"College."

"So stop doing things that could take that choice away from you," Carey said, taking the mugs out of the cupboard. "And start thinking about your major. While you're at it, come get your coffee."

"I think computers would be interesting," Grace said, reaching for the coffeepot. "Web design or something like that."

"It's a growing field," Carey said. "Certainly computer skills are in demand."

"That's what I was thinking," Grace said, setting her mug down and opening the refrigerator. "Plus it's good money. Where's the half-and- half?" she asked.

"Oh, I think it's behind the orange juice," Carey said, leaning over Grace and reaching into the refrigerator. As she did so, her hand inadvertently pressed against the teen's back.

"Ah, damn." Grace dropped to her knees, pain lancing through her back.

"What is it?"

"Ow, nothing," Grace said, moving out of the way and slowly standing up. "Grenner got a good kick in, that's all."

"What did Instructor Gage say about it?"

"Um, she didn't see it," Grace said. "I didn't tell her. It's just a little bruise."

"Uh-huh," Carey said, putting her hands on Grace's shoulders and turning her around. "Let me see." She lifted the cotton tee and let out a low whistle. "That's more than a little bruise, Grace."

"I don't want to make a big deal out of it," Grace said. "It's not like anything's broken."

"What did she hit you with? A two-by-four?"

"Her boot, I think," Grace said, leaning her hands against the counter.

Carey's fingers began moving along her back, gently checking the injury. "Does that hurt?"

"No," Grace said, her eyes fluttering shut. Oh God, that feels so good.

"How about there?"

"A...a little." Grace stifled a moan as Carey's fingers lightly touched her skin.

"You might want to sleep on your stomach tonight."

"She punched me there too," Grace said, her heart racing at the thought of Carey checking that injury as well. "It...it knocked the wind out of me." Please don't stop. The tender touch became too much and a low moan escaped from her throat.

"Grace?"

"Mm?" Her eyes opened when Carey's hands left her body.

"I think we need to talk."

Grace lowered her head and closed her eyes, knowing she had finally given herself away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"We have to," Carey said, moving away to sit at the kitchen table.

"It's not some phase or a stupid crush," Grace said, refusing to turn around. It was painful enough without having to look at her. "I know how I feel."

"I didn't say it was," Carey said softly. "Come sit down."

"Why?" Grace asked, feeling the tightness in her throat. "So you can tell me how someone like you would never be interested in a juvenile delinquent?"

"Aside from the fact that it's illegal and morally reprehensible?" Carey asked. "Grace, I'm twenty-nine years old. You're seventeen."

"I'm going to be eighteen next month." She stared at her now lukewarm cup of coffee. "That doesn't make a difference, does it?"

"It's not that easy," Carey said. "You've been placed in my care by the state. I'm responsible to take care of you."

"You don't believe me," Grace said, her heart breaking. "You think I'm so screwed up that I don't know how I feel."

"That's not true, Grace," Carey said. "Please, come sit down."

Grace shook her head, knowing she was dangerously close to tears and seeing Carey would send her over the edge. "I never understood, you know? I tried but boys just never...and then I thought it was because of what happened, that it somehow turned me off, but it wasn't." She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I didn't understand until I met you. God, this hurts." She heard the scraping of the chair on the floor, then felt Carey's presence behind her.

"I know it hurts," Carey said softly. "Grace, I care about you, very much."

Grace wiped away a tear. "But not that way, right?"

"But not that way," Carey repeated.

"Just a stupid kid."

"No," Carey said. "You're not stupid, Grace. You're a smart, sweet, caring young woman who has the whole world before you. If circumstance were different, if you were older, if I wasn't in charge of teenage girls…"

Grace took her mug and moved to the sink, keeping her back to Carey. "And if the moon and sun lined up in perfect harmony, then I might have a shot, right?" She dumped the coffee into the sink. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Don't shut me out," Carey said.

Grace turned the water on and rinsed her mug. "Nothing to talk about." She set the mug haphazardly in the drainer, then shut the faucet off. "You've made it clear how you feel."

"Grace—“

“Instructor Carey, may I be excused to do my homework?" Grace blinked rapidly, taking deep breaths and fighting with all her might not to break down and cry.

"Don't do this."

"Instructor Carey, may I please be excused to do my homework?"

Several seconds passed before she heard the older woman let out a breath. "Go ahead," Carey said.

Keeping her back to Carey, Grace went to the living room and sat down on the couch. Staring at her closed textbook through glistening eyes, she listened to the sound of footsteps going into the bedroom. Now that she was alone, the tears began to run. Damn. How stupid can I be? If I had just stayed quiet she never would have known. Fearing Carey would come out and see her crying, Grace ran into the bathroom, sliding down the door until she was sitting on the tiled floor. Grace struggled to calm herself down when she heard the bedroom door open. She listened as Carey walked into the living room, then came back and stood outside the bathroom for several seconds before knocking.

"Grace?"

Grace sniffled and wiped her face with wadded-up tissue. "I'm fine. I’ll be out in a minute." She looked up to see the doorknob turn. She's checking to see if I locked the door, she thought as the knob returned to its original position.

"I wish you would," Carey said softly.

"I don't want to talk about it," Grace said. "Can't we just forget it?"

"You can't just forget your feelings."

"I can't help them either but that doesn't matter, does it?" She stood up and walked to the sink, met by red-rimmed eyes looking back at her from the mirror. And you were worried she'd be mad about the fight. Try getting a hug out of her now.

"Grace?"

"I'll be out in a minute." She watched in the mirror as the knob was tested again. Don't worry, the razors are safe. Soaking her washcloth with cold water, she pressed it against her face. How am I gonna face her? I can't go out and just sit there and pretend nothing happened, and I can't talk about it. She soaked the cloth again. I'll tell her I'm tired and go to bed early. No, she'd know I was lying. What am I gonna do? "Fucked up big time," she whispered as she wrung out the washcloth and draped it over the sink. "No way to fix this one." She looked at her reflection one last time. Be tough. Don't cry. Don't let her see how much it hurts. "Ready?" She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Be tough.

Opening the door, she looked down at the carpet and waited for Carey to move out of the way before going into the living room and taking her usual position on the couch. She opened her textbook and pretended to be finding the correct page as Carey claimed the recliner. Please just let it go tonight, she silently begged, watching from the comer of her eye as the dark-haired woman opened the drawer and donned the black-rimmed reading glasses. Good. Grade papers or something. Don't bring it up. She looked down quickly when Carey glanced in her direction. Please don't say anything, she thought, relieved when Carey picked up the paperback sitting on the comer of the table. Grace tried to pay attention to her textbook but the words made no sense, her mind refusing to let her escape from the feelings welling inside. "I'm going to bed," she blurted. Carey closed the novel.

"If that's what you want to do," she said, turning off the lamp.

I want to crawl into a hole and disappear, Grace thought to herself as she collected the bedding. Deliberately keeping her back to Carey, she laid out the blanket and sheet, then crawled between them and faced the rear of the couch. She heard footsteps as Carey moved, then a creak as the older woman sat down on the edge of the coffee table.

"I wish I knew the right words to say," Carey said softly.

Grace sniffled, wiping her eyes with the pillow. "Just something I have to work out myself."

"If you want to talk about it..."

"I know." She pulled the blanket tighter.

"I'm sorry, Grace. It can't be any different."

Grace kept her back turned to Carey, but she nodded her acceptance.

"It was stupid of me to think that someone like you would ever be interested in a screw-up like me anyway."

Carey reached over and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her over onto her back. "I'm not going to listen to you put yourself down like that. You've changed so much since you arrived here. You've learned to set goals, and work to achieve them. And until tonight, you've been able to keep that temper of yours under control. That's something that you couldn't do a few months ago." Carey released Grace's shoulder, a thoughtful look on her face. "I'm so proud of you, Grace. I hope you know that. And you know we can remain friends when you leave here."

Grace smiled for the first time that evening. "I'd like that, Carey."

Carey smiled back. "Good. Now I'm going to get out of here and let you get some sleep." Reaching over she tugged the blanket that had fallen away when she pulled Grace over, and tucked it back up around the young girl. "Sweet dreams, Grace," she said as she stood to leave.

"You too." Grace watched her leave. Wow. She's proud of me. Those words warmed her from the inside as she let herself believe them. Smiling, she rolled over on her side and closed her eyes, the pain of the last hour easing. And the fist that had been gripping her insides slowly releasing its hold. Things were not the way she wanted them, but Carey was proud of her. That was enough for now.

Try as she might, Grace just could not pay attention to her homework, her eyes flitting up to catch a glimpse of the woman sitting in the recliner. Carey had been quiet these last two days since she had found out about how she felt, and Grace couldn't help wondering if her being there was making her uncomfortable. When Carey caught her looking again, she quickly looked back down at the book in her lap.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Grace, I'm too tired to play this game tonight."

"Sorry." The teen looked down at her notebook. "I guess it's been really hard for you having me underfoot."

"I miss my closet but other than that it hasn't been too bad," Carey said. "Was that the question?"

"No," Grace said. "Do you want me to trade places with Jan?"

Carey removed her reading glasses. "You mean you stay with Instructor Gage and Bowen comes here?" She shook her head. "Why change things now?"

"Because of me," Grace said. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"And you think sticking me with Jan would make me comfortable?"

Grace looked down. "No."

"Look at me. Do you want to trade places?"

“No.”

"Is it going to be too hard for you to stay here?"

Grace thought about it. No matter how much it hurt, she could not deprive herself of even one minute more with Carey. "It might be," she admitted. "But I want to stay." She wiped at a tear. "Please."

Carey nodded. "I'm not the one that brought it up," she said, leaning forward in her seat. "Grace, I know it hurts, and what I had to say was hard for you to hear, but I need you to know that I do care about you. If you need to talk, I'm here."

"It does hurt," Grace said, swiping at another tear. "I feel like there's something wrong with me."

"Not wrong," Carey said. "Incomplete. A whole new life is going to begin for you soon and you have to give yourself time to live that life before you can even think of giving yourself to another person. You have to take that lump of clay that is your future and mold it into something, make yourself into someone. The someone you want to be."

"What then?"

"What do you mean?"

Grace looked down. "What if I do that? Get my degree, start a career, achieve those goals I've been making for the last five months. Would you consider me...you know...that way?"

"I don't know," Carey said. "And I can't allow myself to even think about the future in those terms because of the way things are today. I want to be your friend, Grace. I'm your mentor now and that's not going to end after graduation. In many ways, I feel like a big sister to you. As for anything else, I can't, and I know that while it hurts now, someday you'll understand why."

If circumstances were different. The words echoed through Grace's mind long after she had closed her eyes for a sleep that refused to come. Goal number one, Carey. So how do I get that goal? Become what she wants in a lover. Succeed at college. Get a degree so she'll see me as an adult and not a screwed-up kid. Can't do anything about the age but wait. She sighed and laced her hands behind her head. What else? Get a job, save money, get good credit to show her I'm responsible. Stay out of trouble, there's one of the biggies. No way in hell she'd choose me if I got myself into a mess. Sitting up, she listened carefully for several seconds, then quietly went over and turned on the lamp. You're always telling me to make a plan for the future, she thought as she opened her notebook. She wrote Carey's name at the top of the paper. Now, steps to achieve goal.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Waters," Carey said, gesturing at the chair. "Please have a seat. I'd like to speak to you for a few minutes before we bring Grace in."

"Fine," he said. "How's she doing?"

"She's had a few rough spots, but overall she's done a complete turnaround from the first day she arrived here," Carey said. "You should be proud of her, I know we are."

"I am," he said. "And if there's anything I can do for her, just tell me."

"She told you she passed her GED test?"

"Yes," he said. "I told her I'm going to take down my trophy fish to make room for her diploma."

"I'm sure that made her happy," Carey said. "Mr. Waters, Grace doesn't know this yet, but after tomorrow, she's going to be released from state custody."

"That's wonderful," he said.

"At that point, she has to be released to her legal guardian."

"Her mother," he said.

"She's seventeen," Carey said. "She can choose which parent she wants to live with. But," she cautioned, seeing the hopeful look in his eyes. "Her early release is conditioned on her staying in Iroquois County for six months." She watched him work through the problem.

"I can't get it done by tomorrow but I can move here if I have to," he said.

"She can live on her own once she turns eighteen," Carey said. "The problem is the next month."

"It would really hurt but I could probably swing a hotel for that long," he said. "I have some savings bonds I've been holding onto." He rubbed his beard. "Then I'd have to get her set up in an apartment. Help her find a job or get into school. Can she?"

"I've done some research, Mr. Waters," she said. "If she goes to Iroquois Community College, and if she takes a student loan, there are enough grants and programs to help her cover tuition. A part-time job would cover her living expenses but I'm not sure if she'll be able to handle rent, especially in a college town."

"What can I do to help?" he asked.