Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)(13)

“The plot thickens,” she draws out with an eye roll.

“Are you okay?” I repeat with more intention.

She shrugs and runs a hand through her hair. “I don’t know. I mean, before I knew about the picture I didn’t have any scenarios in my head. But, once Roland told me that story, I crafted all of this backstory about my mom longing to have him in my life, or feeling eternally bitter about it … I don’t know. It wasn’t true. Now I need a new backstory.”

“We all need a new backstory,” I mumble. Not soft enough, apparently.

Kennedy leans forward, and for a minute I’m nervous she’s going to push me on the issues with my dad. “What would yours be? If you could craft your history at this very minute, what would it be?”

I chuckle. “And it would still have to land me up here at CU?”

She nods. “Just the backstory. The present is fixed.”

Puffing out my cheeks while I exhale, I consider the question. What kind of life could I make up for myself that would still have me come to CU? My real one had me going here, then not going here, then … here I am.

“Come on,” Kennedy encourages with a soft elbow to my ribs. “I’m giving you a chance to change your history!”

I sigh once more. “I guess I’d give my dad a break and my mom a spine. You know, in case giving my dad a break didn’t pan out.”

Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second. “Would you still be a Christian?”

“I’d have to be to end up here, wouldn’t I?”

With a grin, she bites her lip and looks into the distance. “I don’t know … no, I don’t think so. New question. Backstory aside, would you renounce your faith right now if you could?”

I pull my head back. Grateful she’s not probing my backstory change, Kennedy’s new question still offends me. “What do you mean if I could? I could walk away from Christianity anytime I wanted to.”

Sort of. Maybe.

“Do you want to?” she challenges.

I grin. “What’s with you?”

“Look,” she sighs. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and your dad, but I do know he’s a burnt out pastor who caused you and your family a lot of pain. Wouldn’t you want to walk away from that if you could?”

“Not wanting to be a PK, and not wanting to be a Christian are two different things.” I force myself to say the logical words, even if I don’t believe them most of the time. The two are so entwined in my life, and in those around me, I don’t know if they really are two different things.

Then it hits me. Despite my encouraging her to embrace her new identity as a PK, I somehow forgot through this conversation that she is just that. “What about you?” I question.

“I don’t think I have enough information on this whole PK thing to make a proper assessment.”

I tilt my chin toward her. “Based on what you know, then.”

She lets out a sharp laugh that startles a group of birds in a nearby bush. As they disappear into another tree, Kennedy looks at me. “Based on what very, very little I know, I’d say it’s amazing that any of you are still Christian. It reminds me of my Catholic friends back home.”

“How so?” I don’t know a lot about Catholicism, but I do know it has nothing to do with preacher’s kids.

“The rules. Being under the thumb of your family, church, or God. Rules, rules, and more rules. Ways to pray, who to pray to, a freaking rosary so you don’t forget how long you’ve been praying, or something—I don’t actually know what a rosary is for.” She shakes her head and closes her eyes, seeming to refocus herself. “Anyway. It seems to me that you—and the Catholics—feel like you’re being watched all the time. By others and by a punishing God.”

I have to give her credit, for the weight of the things I’ve heard Kennedy say, she manages to do it in the least offensive or caustic way possible. I’d love it if she could grow up to be like Roland in profession and passion, but now isn’t the time to dump that on her. There will likely never be a good time to tell the beautiful Episcopalian girl that she could become as influential as her father.

“I don’t know about all of that regarding your Catholic friends, but you’re pretty spot on with the PK’s. Though, I should mention I don’t really feel like God is a punishing God. In fact, from what I’ve read, Jesus spends most of the New Testament talking about love and forgiveness. That comes from God and we’re supposed to share with each other.” I eye her cautiously out of the corner of my eye. Despite my assertion that God is love, I’ve got my doubts based on personal experience.

Anger and doubt don’t have to be the same thing.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to discern the voice in my head. It’s been hard to tell lately if it’s the voice of God or the ingrained, trained voice of my upbringing. The ability to call on quotes or scriptures that help Christians get through the crap in their lives. There’s been lots of radio static lately, though, so I’m going to take this as His voice. And I’ll challenge him on it later.

Kennedy nods approvingly. “That’s what Episcopalians talk about the most, you know. The love that God has for us, and the amazing things that can happen from that. I’d say maybe we’re not so different after all, but, that’d be a stretch.”