Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)(14)

I laugh and rock my head side to side. “I think everyone probably has it wrong.”

“Yeah? You’re probably right. Although, I have to admit—parentage aside—I like what Roland says. A lot.”

“I do, too,” I admit. “He seems to have his act together because he’s actually reading Jesus’ words. Not how those words fit into some political agenda.”

This isn’t really the conversation I planned on having with Kennedy right now, if at all, but here we are. Steeped in theology.

“I kind of wish he’d talk about some of those things sometimes, though, don’t you? Like, I don’t know, maybe if he doesn’t change people’s minds he could at least get them to think a little clearer about the issues.” Kennedy unfolds her legs and plants her feet on the ground, lifting herself up. When she stretches her arms overhead, looking up, the bottom of her shirt rides right to the waist of her skirt.

I clear my throat. “Like what issues?” Standing, I follow behind her as she makes her way further down the trail.

She shrugs. “Gay marriage?”

“You mean homosexuality,” I challenge. “That’s the root issue.”

“Whatever.” She waves her hand in the air but stops her feet on a dime.

Turning around, I find her standing with her hands on her hips. “What?” I ask.

Her eyes are cautious, but fierce. “Where do you stand on homosexuality?”

I swallow hard. “I don’t stand on it at all. I’m straight.”

My attempt at humor falls flat on her as her lips tighten. “Matt.”

Letting out a nervous chuckle, I shove my hands in my pockets. “I’m a football player raised in a pastor’s family from Georgia, Kennedy … I …”

“I didn’t ask you what everyone around you thinks. I asked what you think. Apart from how you’ve been raised.”

Taking two steps toward her, I tilt my head in challenge. “That’s not fair. You don’t have an opinion other than the one you were raised with, do you?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it for a few seconds before opening it again. “That isn’t the same thing. My opinion doesn’t oppress people.”

I huff through my nose. “Which is how you see it.”

“So you’re against homosexuality,” she states dismissively, passing me as she walks down the trail further.

“I didn’t say that,” I call after her, quickening my pace to catch up. “Hey,” I tug lightly at her upper arm when I reach her, stopping us and forcing her to turn to me. “I didn’t say that. All I said was neither of us can be sure which opinions are ours, or from our upbringing. Maybe we’d both learn something if your—if Roland preached on those topics, huh?” I try to be careful not to call Roland her dad unless she does, but sometimes it slips out.

She shrugs, avoiding eye contact.

“Hey,” I say again, relishing the feeling of her arm—covered as it may be—against my skin. “What are you so afraid of here?”





CHAPTER SEVEN





Parachute


Kennedy.




“What are you so afraid of here?” Matt’s gaze is strong as he looks down on me.

At me, maybe. I hate that I always assume the worst.

My eyes fall to his hand, which sits on my arm. He drops it, and I immediately curse myself for silently calling attention to it.

What am I so afraid of?

Everything.

“Everything,” I admit. “I’m afraid that your political opinions will make me want to not be friends with you anymore. I’m afraid that mine will make you think the same way about me. And, if I’m being totally honest and practical? One of us is right. That’s it. And everything changes for the wrong one. This issue is about as black and white as it gets and there are hundreds more like it.”

Matt runs a hand over the top of his head a few times before bringing it down over his face, where he leaves it over his mouth. Thinking, it seems. I wait in the uncomfortable silence, thankful that he’s both still here having this conversation with me and he hasn’t turned vile.

“Okay,” he says in an exhale after several seconds. “New rule.”

“Yay,” I say sarcastically. “I love rules. What is it with you people and rules?” I chuckle nervously shifting on my feet.

He shakes his head and reaches out, playfully pinching my arm before he allows us to continue our hike through the woods. “Let’s just … not talk about the political stuff, okay? We’ve got a lot of heavy stuff going on with our families and this school. Let’s just be friends for a while before we beat each other over the head with politics, ‘kay?”

“Crap,” I blurt out with a giggle.

“What?” He laughs, looking at me like I’m a weirdo.

“You meant to say crap a few times in there, didn’t you? You said stuff twice in a row. At least one of those was supposed to be crap, right? You can say crap with me, Matt.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “No, I can’t.”

“Why?” I bite my lip and look down, my hormones creating soft heat in my cheeks. I dig my hands into my dress pockets just to be on the safe side.