Brandi ran. Her heart was pounding almost out of her chest and her legs felt as if they would give out at any moment, but still she dug deeper and ran harder. She didn't turn around to look, she couldn't risk falling or tripping if she took her eyes off the uneven ground beneath her feet. Above the roar of her own heartbeat she could hear them now, pounding behind her, catching her, getting closer with every step. She cried out and pushed herself into a sprint, and with a final spurt of energy, she crossed the finish line in first place; only seconds in front of the group of runners behind her. Gasping for breath she slowed her pace to a slow walk as her screaming teammates, coaches, friends, and family swarmed around her at 1:12 pm.
Later that night after having won first place in the state finals for high school women's cross country Brandi stood in front of the mirror analyzing the outfit she had on. The short skirt drew attention to her long runner's legs, but the yellow sweater wasn't flattering at all; the color was all wrong for this time of year. She stripped off the skirt and sweater and tossed them to the growing pile of rejected outfits residing on her floor. Moving back to her closet she was dismayed to discover that barely anything remained hanging, and none of which looked promising; she was running out of options. Fed up with her own wardrobe she lightly sprinted down the hallway to her older sister's room and closet. When Kori had moved out for college she left behind an extensive and provocative wardrobe to which Brandi had been specifically banned from wearing. Up until this point she had complied with her sister's demand, and had steered clear of the tempting closet. But tonight was different; tonight she was the state's fastest female cross country runner and it might very well be the last time she would be with her entire high school team before leaving for the University of Michigan next fall. Tonight was much different, and she needed an outfit worthy of the event.
At 9:15 pm Brandi waited on her front porch in her sister's skin-tight, pink mini dress, black pumps, and worn leather jacket waiting for her best friend, and DD, to pick her up. Five minutes later, Megan skidded into the driveway and honked the horn unnecessarily as Brandi rushed to the car before her parents heard the noise. Once inside she swatted at Megan's arm, "You moron, my parents probably heard you. You're lucky they didn't see me before we left. They would have made me change, and then I would have had to kill you." Casting a sidelong glance from the driver's seat Megan snickered, "Yeah, they would have made you change for sure. You look like a total skank!" Stretching out her long legs, Brandi swatted at Megan again and with a playful smile shot back, "Jealous?"
They arrived at the bonfire way out in the middle of nowhere twenty minutes later and Brandi made her way quickly towards the kegs on the edge of the clearing; it wasn't long before she was having trouble walking straight and her speech became slurred. Basking in the rays of her state championship Brandi was the life of the party and drew a lot of attention from everyone, including people she'd never met before. She was supporting herself gracefully against a tree and scanning the crowd for Megan when she first saw him. Their eyes met from across the clearing and his smile lit up the night. Brandi's eyes dropped and she felt herself blush, when she looked back up he was gone; moments later he reappeared in front of her and introduced himself. His name was Brad and he was a freshman at the University of Michigan where he played hockey, and he really liked her eyes. Smitten, Brandi lost herself in their flirting and it wasn't long before she was persuaded to "get out of here" with him. She had dropped her cup and purse to the ground and not bothering to pick them up she shakily followed him to the black truck parked in the shadows. She cast one last glance behind her, hoping to find Megan, before allowing herself to be guided into the passenger seat.
I pulled my phone out of jeans to glance at the time; it was almost 1:30 am already, and I told my parents I would be home at 2:00, before the bars let out. Great, I'm gonna be late. Dad is gonna kill me, I thought to myself as I started to make my way through the crowd of people looking for Brandi. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen her, it must have been around midnight...right, it was about midnight. And she was at the keg with Dave Wittens, she must have been on what, her sixth beer at the point? Ugh, he's such a tool. I bet he even offered to pump the keg for her. I don't know what she sees in him... I adjusted my path so that I was headed towards the kegs and away from the throngs of kids, hoping I would find her hidden back in the trees with Dave. Instead, as I fumbled around in the dark calling out her name I found her cell phone abandoned in the dirt. Don't panic, I instruct myself, I bet she just dropped it when she was busy groping Dave Wittens. I was about to start screaming at her to come out of the woods when I heard Dave call my name as he jogged my direction, "Hey, Megan. Have you seen Brandi? She was with some guy I didn't recognize and last time I saw them, they were headed towards his truck. Now I cant find her. And she wont answer her phone." I held Brandi's Blackberry up for Dave to see, she wasn't answering because she didn't have it. Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. I chanted to myself. She does things like this ALL the time. She'll call me in the morning and explain (in detail) all about her night with this mystery guy. She'll be fine. I explained to Dave that he, better than anyone, should know that Brandi is unpredictable, and that he shouldn't worry about it. After all, she'd be fine. I glanced once more at the phone in my hand and realized that I had 20 minutes to get home. Dave walked me to my car and as he closed the door behind me his face mirrored the worry that I felt.
By 1:00 the next afternoon I still hadn't heard anything from Brandi, and I was beyond worried. I figured I would give her until 2:30 to call me, before I would call her and give her a piece of my mind.
At 2:30 I still hadn't heard from her. Enough is enough, I thought. I dialed her home phone and waited impatiently while it rung. "Hello?" the voice crackled across the line. "Mrs. Cross? It's Megan. Can I talk to Brandi?" There was a long pause while I waited for her mother to respond, or for Brandi to answer. "I'm sorry, what dear? Isn't Brandi with you? She texted us from a different phone last night saying her phone was dead and she was staying the night with you...." Mrs. Cross' voice faded off and my stomach clenched. "No, Mrs. Cross. She isn't here. I couldn't find her last night and she left her phone in the woods." The phone went dead and seconds later Brandi's phone started buzzing on my desk, it said "Mom" was calling. I answered the phone and Mrs. Cross was crying, before she hung up I heard her screaming for Brandi's father, something was wrong.
It was 7:00 pm, and I'd been sitting in the police station for three hours now. When no one could find Brandi, her father had called the police. They had no trouble finding her, within an hour she was discovered dead in the ditch off of Bentham's Road. They figured that since her feet were cut up and her dress torn she had been running from whoever had killed her, she died about three miles from her house. That's about the same distance as the 5K she had run and won earlier in the day. They must have been fast. She could been anyone is footrace... Dave Wittens came out of the interview room looking pale and shaken, he plopped into the seat next to mine and his gaze was unfocused. Not knowing what else to do I reached over and grabbed his hand, Poor kid. I thought, He'd seen her with him and hadn't thought anything of it. Now she's dead. I expected him to brush my hand away or ignore the movement all together, so I was caught offguard when his fingers interlaced with mine. We sat like that, fingers intertwined, until the police officer called my name and I went back into the interview room to recount what I could remember from last night.
For weeks it felt like my world moved more slowly, but I didn't have to deal with it on my own, Dave was there for me. We were there for each other, as friends. As I spent more time with him I realized how wrong I had been about him, and how unfairly I had judged him in the past. I used to think that because he was a talented athlete and was recognized for his outstanding athletic skill that he had nothing else to offer. But I really was wrong. He was sweet and caring, funny and wild, smart and athletic, brave and strong. He was everything I had ever looked for in a guy. And in January after one of his hockey games he asked me to be his girlfriend, and of course, I said yes.
The rest of senior year passed quickly and without incident. Dave and I spent time with friends, we plodded through senioritis, we stayed out late and slept through class, we went to senior prom together, and made memories with people we might never see again. It was the time of my life. At graduation there was an empty seat for Brandilynne Cross, and her senior picture was blown up and displayed on the screen when her name was called to recieve a diploma. It'd been seven months and they still didn't have any information on who had killed her. By then I had come to terms with her death and I no longer waited on the edge of my seat for information regarding her murder. It was in the past, and regardless of what had become of her, I had my entire future ahead of me. Don't get me wrong, I still missed her and I wished it hadn't happened to her. But it had, and there was nothing I could do.
Graduation was three years ago. I'm a junior at the University of Michigan now and I have a fabulous life. I am still in a relationship with Dave and I go to every one of his hockey games; we talk about after graduation, he goes pro, we'll get married. We really are a great couple, and Brandi had been the one to bring us together. For that I will be forever thankful to her memory. I'm getting ready for a date with him tonight and I stand in front of my mirror analyzing the outfit I have on. The skirt is acceptable, but the sweater isn't working for me; the color is all wrong for this time of year, Brandi would have killed me for wearing something like this. I strip off the sweater and toss it to the pile of disgarded outfits. I finally decide upon a pair of skinny jeans and a tight turtleneck, paired with killer heels it's the perfect outfit. I smile at my reflection statisfied with the outcome. I really want to look good, afterall we're going on a double date with one of Dave's teammates, Brad, and his girlfriend.
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