Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father(60)

“You think?” Asher leans against the counter, looking amused.

“God could have come down and destroyed the world with the snap of a finger and had us all start all over again. But he didn’t. He came as a baby.” My voice drops to a whisper. “A baby. A tiny person that needed to be nurtured, then grew to nurture, and who knew what was going to happen and did it anyway. For us.”

Asher clears his throat and shifts slightly. “I thought you were only in an Old Testament class? That sounds like New Testament territory, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I read ahead,” I tease, sticking out my tongue as Chelsea had earlier.

He laughs. “I’m going to need to write, ‘keep your tongue in your mouth,’ in the dress code, aren’t I?”

My eyes are drawn to a familiar voice at a nearby table, and instantly blood rises.

“What?” Asher cranes his neck to follow my line of vision. “Oh, good. Your door-to-door friend.” He spots Joy accurately.

“She’s not my friend,” I assert.

“Just keep an eye on her. She hasn’t been a problem since that one day you were here with her.” With that, Asher heads back to his office, and I’m faced with taking Joy’s order, since Chelsea is busy checking out tattoos on a customer.

“Hey, Joy.” I smile and try to sound as friendly as I can.

“Hey,” she says with relative niceness. “Just a medium soy latte, please.”

I nod. “Okay, I’ll have it up at the end of the counter in just a minute.”

Joy turns and walks directly to the end of the counter, watching me as I work on her drink.

“Eden says you’re coming to Bible study tonight?” She speaks over the high pitch of the steamer.

“Yep. Want this for here or to go?”

“Here.”

I finish her drink and slide it across the counter. “There ya go.”

“We’re starting the Gospel of John tonight,” she says after her first sip. “I’m glad you’re coming.”

“You are?” My eyes widen and I feel a twinge of hope for Joy.

She nods. “I’ve been praying for you a lot.”

“You have?” I arch my eyebrow—twinge of hope slowly packing its things.

“Yes. I recognize how hard it is to set aside a life of sin and try to follow Jesus. I admire you, Kennedy. See you tonight.” She turns on her heels and heads to the back corner, taking out a book for our Old Testament class—no, we don’t just use the Bible—and begins studying. Presumably for our mid-term on Wednesday.

Life of sin?

She said it without a trace of venom in her voice, yet I’m left feeling dirty, exposed, and pissed off. What is it about me she finds so sinful? My upbringing? That’s all she really knows about me. As I silently curse her assumptions of me, I realize mine of her aren’t any better. And, you know what? She’s right. The choices I’m making lately have been hard. So hard, I feel like I can’t even talk to my mom about them. If I told her I was interested in learning more about being baptized as an adult, she’d lecture me for thirty minutes or more about how it isn’t necessary.

This middle ground I’m trying to navigate is feeling narrower and lonelier by the minute. I know I’ll eventually have to make a choice, but I’m realizing that it’s less a choice between one side and the other. It’s a choice to stare at Jesus or those around me. For the time being, my eyes are flickering all over the place.

Right on schedule, Roland walks in and sets his laptop at the far corner booth—windows on both sides facing the street.

I start on his decaf cafè au lait, and a calm feeling builds in my chest. Not the anxiety I’ve experienced around him or the mention of him for most of my life. As crazy as it seems, Roland is the most middle ground I’ve got right now.

“Hey you!” I say over the sound of frothing milk. “Fresh decaf. Who knows how long the other stuff has been in there.”

“Thanks.” Roland smiles easily and rests his elbows on the counter. “Still going to the study group tonight?”

“Yes.” I hand him his drink and lean in to avoid being heard. “Even Joy is excited that I’m eager to leave my life of sin,” I whisper, nodding discreetly in her direction.

Roland shakes his head. “She’s pretty—”

“Intense?” I cut him off.

He shrugs. “Yes. But I think you and I have different ideas of what that word means. I think her heart’s in the right place.”

“I think you’re paid to say that.” I smile teasingly as I return to my tasks.

Roland gets down to his own work, and I find myself a little bummed that we won’t get to have our normal Saturday night chat. I’m ready for more from him, though I don’t know what that will entail.

I push that thought aside and decide to talk to him about it after services tomorrow. If I survive night one of Bible study, that is.





CHAPTER NINETEEN


Crush


It’s 8:00 pm on the nose, and I’m sitting at a table in the student union, surrounded by people I know: Bridgette and Silas, Joy, Matt Wells—as promised—and Eden and Jonah, who are holding hands and gazing at each other bashfully from time to time. I find myself having to force looking away from them. Who knew handholding could look so intimate? The RA from the guys’ dorm, Jack, is leading the prayer. Apparently Maggie usually comes, too, but is off campus this evening.