Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father(28)

“It’s gonna be hard though, too,” Jonah adds. “There’s a lot to remember.” He makes brief eye contact with me before returning to his triple-stacked pancakes and impossible amount of syrup.

We haven’t spoken since last Sunday when I basically admitted I wasn’t sure of the power of the Word of God. I don’t blame him for his cautiousness of me. The Doubter. I’ll cut myself some slack. I don’t doubt the existence of God, but I question his plan. None of my friends seem to, though. They all just keep asking to be a part of it.

“Lord, let me be a willing part of your plan,” Joy is often heard saying at our nightly floor prayer sessions.

Every night.

Every night we get together as a floor to pray. Pray and praise about the day that has passed and the one forthcoming. It exhausts me, honestly, to be spiritually dialed in all the time, which is interesting because it’s a thought that had excited me preceding my stepping on campus. I mean, who doesn’t want to be in constant contact with God?

Me. I don’t. I’m realizing that sometimes I need a little bit of space. Conflictingly, I’m finding that’s not really an option. There’s no space from God or CU.

In fact, I’ve only made it on Facebook once this week. Once. I logged on in the library on campus, but kept my message of I’m alive, no worries, just settling into my new environment short and sweet. I’m sure you can imagine the responses that status garnered.

Have they burned you at the stake?

Pray for me, from a guy friend whose profile picture showcased him flanked by two girls with Greek letters across their chests.

That I get laid soon! He completed his thought in another reply.

Am I allowed to visit, or will the pearly gates be closed?

I haven’t responded to a single one, nor have I accepted the budding Friend Requests from my CU crew. It’s hard enough to merge these two worlds in my head, let alone on social media.

It turns out that just as much as I don’t want my CU friends to judge me by what they see on my—or my high school friends—Facebook pages, I don’t want my “real life friends” to judge me or my CU friends. At all.

The thought alone of Greek Letters Guy—Sam—scoping the pages of Eden and Bridgette and the comments that would follow is enough to make me shiver. He’s a total pig…which had seemed kind of funny until last week. There’s a weak—but growing—desire brewing inside me to protect my CU friends from…something. I know it sounds self-righteous, but it’s real.

“We should go downtown today,” I suggest as I move the remnants of my omelet around my plate. “We haven’t had much time to explore our surroundings.”

There’s a stiff silence all of a sudden. Of course there would be. Even though Asheville is in the South, it’s still a city—and a fairly liberal one, at that. It clicks just then that that’s at least partly the reason for all the group and chaperone guidelines surrounding going off-campus. One wouldn’t want to be bit by a gay vampire, or something.

“Yes!” Bridgette answers excitedly, which was unexpected. “I want to get a nose ring!”

My eyes widen and a huge smile pulls at my mouth.

“Bridge!” Silas gasps. “Mom and Dad will—”

“Oh, calm down.” She waves her hand. “I’m eighteen.”

My eyes connect with Jonah, whose eyebrows are expertly lifted. We grin and return to listening in on the siblings’ discussion.

“Right,” Silas replies. “But we still live in Dad’s house. And his rules.”

Bridgette sighs an all-encompassing, deflating sigh. Her face falls. “You’re right.”

“You could always take it out before you go home, or before they come here,” I suggest helpfully.

Jonah bites his lip and turns his head away from the group, his shoulders shaking under a laugh.

Bridgette brightens again. “You’re right!”

“That would be lying.” Silas sounds constipated.

For the first time since interacting with these people, I feel like I have something to offer. “Oh, come on, Silas. How is it lying? Did she tell your parents she wouldn’t pierce her nose?”

“No.”

“Okay, then how will her taking it out for visits—sparing them anxiety, or whatever it is—be lying?”

His jaw pulses against his skin. I’ve pushed far enough.

“I mean,” I add to pull the tension back to me, since poor Bridgette looks conflicted, “I haven’t told you guys I got my lip pierced last year. But have I lied to any of you about it?”

Eden smacks the table to my left. “You have your lip pierced?” she asks in the loudest whisper possible.

“Well, it’s empty at this exact moment, given the rules and all, but…” I press my tongue against the inside of my lip to highlight the hole. It’s tiny, but when you look for it, it’s easy to spot.

Eden leans in so close it could look like we’re about to kiss. I briefly consider doing it just to cause a small riot. When her eyes find the hole, she leans back and shakes her head, a mix of awe and uncertainty across her face.

“I can’t believe you have your lip pierced.”

I shrug. My eyes search the table, and they’re all looking at me with a mix of emotions. Bridgette gleams like I’m some shiny toy. Joy curls her lip the moment my eyes connect with hers. Figures. While Silas’ look is unreadable, when my eyes land on Jonah, he looks away quickly, moving his fork around a completely empty plate. Red. His cheeks are red.