Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father(33)

“Thanks for the heads up about the job,” I say, hitching my thumb behind my shoulder to the counter. “You did that on purpose,” I assert, hoping my reading of him is getting more fluent.

Roland nods. “I figured you’d appreciate it.” He reaches past me and I see Chelsea has remade his coffee. She winks at me again and I throw her a thumbs up before returning my attention to Roland. He’s taking his sip at a safe two paces back.

“Why are you being nice to me? I was such a—jerk. I was a jerk to you.” I shift on my feet, silently cursing that I’m constantly nervous around him.

He shrugs, tilting his head to the side. “I was one to you, too.”

My eyes shoot up. His admission of being anything but perfect shocks me. “Yeah?”

He grins sympathetically. “Yeah. I pushed too far too soon. I’m just really excited that you’re here, Kennedy.” He takes one step closer and places his hand on my shoulder again, leaving it there while he finishes his thought. “Your instincts are right, though. We do need to take our time with each other.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Joy and Bridgette throwing their trash away about five feet from where Roland and I are standing. I take a step back, shaking his hand off my shoulder. Bridgette heads back outside immediately, but Joy seems to be lingering over the trash.

“Well,” I clear my throat and nod toward where Joy is stationed, “thanks again for the off-campus job information. I look forward to seeing you at New Life on Sunday.”

Roland takes a sharp breath through his nose. “Any time, Ms. Sawyer. Though I hope you’ll consider one of the assistant positions in my office on campus?”

I can’t tell if this is part of the undiscussed act we have going between us to keep our connection a secret, or if he’s serious. I’d chuckle either way, so I decide that’s the most appropriate reaction.

“Probably not. I’d love some time off campus. But I’ll tell my floormates. I didn’t realize you had an office on campus.” My nostrils flare as I tilt my head to the side.

He shrugs. “I teach a New Testament class, and a few others, so it’s easier to have a base on campus.”

“Right on,” I concede, growing more uncomfortable by the minute seeing that Joy has found people to talk to that are standing even closer to Roland and me than the trashcan is. “Well, see you Sunday.”

“See you Sunday.” Roland turns and exits the coffee shop, and in a move of self-preservation, I walk over to Joy.

Sidling up next to her, I hear her urgent tone as she addresses people I gather quickly are strangers.

“Eternity is a long time,” Joy pleads. “And hell is hot.”

Casting a quick glance to the people she’s lecturing, I find them staring at her with a mix of humor and contempt.

“Okay.” I clap once and plaster on a gigantic smile. “Joy,” I smile wider, linking my arm through hers, “we’ve gotta go.”

I mouth sorry to the unsuspecting coffee-goers and lead Joy outside.

“What are you doing?” I hiss once we’re outside, shaking her arm from mine.

“Saving souls while you’re trying to get a job at a coffee shop,” she answers so matter-of-factly it causes my jaw to drop.

I point behind me to the door of Word. “You can’t just accost people with threats of hell, Joy!” Our friends, who had been standing at the edge of the sidewalk waiting for us, close in around us now.

Joy’s long hair, which is tied in a tight ponytail, whips over her shoulder as she places her hands on her tiny hips. “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do, but I wouldn’t expect you to know about that.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Eden steps between with a nervous twitter. “What’s going on?”

Joy opens her mouth, but I cut her off at the pass. “Joy approached two strangers and started telling them they’re going to hell. I got her out of there before they dumped their drinks on her head.”

Joy quirks her mouth into a condescending grin, rolling her eyes. “Get a grip, Kennedy. We were in a public place and I was trying to rescue people. That’s what we’re supposed to do.”

“You’re insane,” I spit out and push my way through the crowd of immodest sinners, relishing in the touch of their bare skin against mine as I barrel down the sidewalk. With no plan.

How dare she? Just when I thought Joy couldn’t get more stereotypical, she interrupts a couple’s perfectly normal coffee-going Friday afternoon with threats of eternal damnation.

“Kennedy!” Bridgette’s frantic voice calls after me. The way the syllables bounce out of her mouth, I can tell she’s running, but I don’t turn around. “Kennedy, wait!” she calls again.

I slow to a stop, but don’t turn around. When she reaches me, Bridgette is breathless, and I start moving again. Not race-walking this time, but still moving away from the scene of the social crime.

“What?” I huff after a few seconds of silence.

“Come back with us. We’ve still got to go to the mall.” Her voice is that of a small child. Uncertain. Pleading. In fact, so much about the way Bridgette carries herself is like a child that I feel guilty and annoyed at the same time. On one hand—grow up. But, on the other hand, I feel guilty for my outburst. Justified, but guilty.