Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father(34)

With a sigh, I stop my forward march to nowhere. “I don’t think I should hang out with Joy. I’m like a sentence and a half away from more demerits than my enrollment can handle with her,” I admit. “I’d kind of like to head to the mall by myself.”

Bridgette knots her fingers in front of her, looking at me as though she already regrets the words she’s about to say. “You…you can’t go to the mall by yourself.”

Of course not. The rules. Freshmen can’t go off campus—except for work—by themselves until they earn the right through good behavior and things like that. Goodness I’m rapidly losing my grip on.

My eyes fill with tears and I’m thankful there’s a short brick wall behind me, outlining the perimeters of a flower vendor. Clutching my coffee in one hand, I use the other to balance myself to sit on the wall, lowering my head. Bridgette sits next to me and offers a gentle arm around my shoulder.

“Does everyone think I overreacted?” I ask with a sniff. “I mean, is that really what we’re supposed to do? Solicit the public with fear? I honestly don’t recall reading Jesus’ speech on that.”

Bridgette laughs. “I don’t think you overreacted. I can’t speak for anyone else, but, no, I don’t think so. You probably shouldn’t have called her insane, though.”

“She’ll tell on me to Maggie,” I say.

Bridgette shrugs. “Probably. You’ll deal with that if it happens.”

For a child-like person, Bridgette sure is calm. Maybe I have more to learn from her than I gave her credit for.

“It’s going to be awkward going to the mall now,” I admit with a grimace.

“I guess,” she admits. “But it’s better than going back to campus, right?”

My eyes widen. “You’re so right. Thanks for coming to get me, by the way,” I say as we stand and brush the brick dust from our skirts.

“Of course,” Bridgette says, as though I’ve stated the most obvious thing in the world. “We have to stick together, you know.”

I think she’s speaking metaphorically, or something, but I’m grateful for her friendship either way.

On our walk back to the group, which has now started moving our way, I notice the absence of Brent and Joy.

Eden approaches us with a cautious smile. “Brent and Joy met up with some kids heading back to campus.”

I nod, then face the embarrassing task of addressing my friends. “I’m sorry, guys. I just… I’m so far out of my element and, honestly, the guy Joy was talking to looked really ticked off.”

Silas, surprisingly, chimes in first. “It’s okay. She shouldn’t really be doing that by herself, anyway. For just that reason, too. It’s not safe sometimes.”

Eden winces and nods. “My brother got punched once in college during a spring break mission trip to South Beach.”

“Really?” My jaw drops yet again. Both at the violence and trying to figure out what kind of mission trip there might be to South Beach.

“I remember that,” Jonah adds, casting a sideways glance my way. “That was scary.”

Eden shrugs. “He was fine, thankfully, because he was in a group. But, if he’d been alone…”

The unspoken end of her sentence slithers its way around the group, strangling any responses we might have.

“So,” I say with as much humor as possible after a few seconds of silence, “mall?”

The tension breaks its hold over the group and we make our way to the bus stop that holds our ticket to a few more hours of freedom.





We return to campus well after dinner, which is fine since we ate some greasy—so deliciously greasy—mall Chinese food. Eden, Bridgette, and I say goodbye to Silas and Jonah and we make our way back to the dorm. I clutch my shopping bag like it’s the most precious thing I own. It holds three CU approved length skirts. With pockets. Well, two new skirts since I wore one out of the store. Dear, sweet pockets.

Once inside our building, I veer off and stop at Maggie’s door while my roommates continue toward ours.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” I say with a shrug as I knock on Maggie’s door. They nod their understanding and continue down the hall.

Maggie opens the door and her eyes immediately fall to my bags. “Kennedy,” she says with a hint of hesitation, “did you enjoy your time off campus today?”

I take a step forward and she holds her door open so I can enter all the way. Without a word, I plop my belongings, and myself, on her bed.

“Joy,” I mumble.

“Yeah,” she mumbles back, sitting next to me.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d just like to get this over with,” I say, silently referencing the demerits I know are coming my way. “I know it was wrong of me to call her insane and she probably feels all wounded and whatever…”

For once, my tone isn’t snarky. I think back to the conversation I had earlier with Maggie regarding my roommates. Then, the guilt sinks in further. Joy probably really felt like she was doing the right thing by those patrons. Still, I remind myself that her perception of right doesn’t make it right or safe.

“Want to plead your case?” she asks and walks to her desk, pulling out a stack of three-ply papers.