Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)(35)

They share the standard plans of hanging out with family and enjoying huge meals. Then, Eden pauses her packing and leans against the edge of her desk.

“Some of my high school friends have invited me to this party at a cabin in the next town over.” She sighs and looks down at her hands. “I guess a lot of people from my graduating class and the years before ours are going to be there. It’s some tradition that’s kept pretty well secret. I didn’t even know about it and I always know about social stuff.”

I chuckle at Eden’s admission of her popularity status.

“What’s the trouble?” Bridgette asks. “Is there, like, beer and stuff?”

Eden twists her lips and nods. “Yeah.”

I shrug. “You don’t have to drink it, though.”

“She also doesn’t have to go,” Bridgette adds a little hastily.



That, too …



Mollie called a few nights ago and directed me toward Facebook—which I decided to avoid for the rest of the semester-where my very own e-vite sat. This one hosted by my ex-boyfriend, Trent.

“Is that against the rules?” I ask, suddenly worried about my own Friday night plans.

“It’s not just about rules, Kennedy,” Bridgette snaps, earning her wide eyes from both me and Eden. “It’s about how it makes her feel in her heart and spirit, too. If she’s uncomfortable, she shouldn’t go.”



You know what …



“You know what, Bridgette?” I snap back. “Sometimes life is uncomfortable. Do you think it was easy-breezy for me to stand up in front of the school and half the nation to talk about Roland as my dad? Do you think it was comfortable for me to come here? No, but despite my misgivings, I felt like I needed to come here. And, most days I don’t know why. I don’t get it, and sometimes I just want to go home. But beneath my discomfort is something deeper. So back off.”

Ignoring Bridgette’s horrified stare, I angrily zip my bag and move in front of Eden.

“Look,” I start, breathlessly. “Go, or don’t go, but don’t over-think it. No one can force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Talk to your brother, maybe. He’s gone through the same stuff. Don’t not go because you’re afraid of what people will think, or whatever.” I eye Bridgette for a second. “Fear causes people to do some crazy shit. Just look at Joy. She was evidently afraid of me, and look where it got her.”

“That’s not fair, Kennedy,” Bridgette states with tears in her eyes. “Eden not going to a party is not the same thing as Joy bullying you.”

“I’m not saying it is, Bridge.” I take a deep breath and back toward the door. “I’m just suggesting maybe you all should start believing in the strength you ask for in your prayers every night.”

Eden holds out her hands. “Guys, I didn’t mean to cause such a problem …”

Bridgette and I look at Eden, then each other, then we drop our emotional weapons. As seems to be happening more and more with Bridgette lately, she breaks into tears. I roll my eyes, then shoot a quick look to my right and find that Eden caught me. She offers a tiny shrug and wraps an arm around Bridgette.

“Bridge,” I say inside another sigh, “what’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong with Silas,” she replies, wiping under her eyes. “I don’t know what it is, but he’s been just … so quiet and angry since we got here. More as the semester has gone on.”

I arch an eyebrow at a still-quiet Eden. “You mean he’s not always … reserved?”

She shakes her head. “At home he always cracks jokes and plays with our little brothers and sisters. He’s not this super uptight guy with no sense of humor.”

Eden finally finds her voice. “Maybe he really is just focusing on all of the romantic stuff you said he was in peer counseling about. I know it’s hard when you don’t know the exact details, but you can still be praying for him.” Eden looks to me, pleadingly. “We all can.”

I close my eyes for a moment, knowing what must be done. I need to do this. For Bridgette, for Eden, for our friendship, and, maybe, for me. Dropping my bag, I walk over to my roommates, and silently reach for their hands. I’ve been adding in my own words of prayer during floor meetings over the last couple of weeks, but nothing super personal or involved. But, I can’t leave my roommates like this. And, since Eden is oddly silent and Bridgette is a mess, it’s my turn to step up to the plate.

I just want to go home. Is that too much to ask?

“Father God,” I start with the title Bridgette usually uses to call out to her Savior, “please watch over us as we each head home for this break. Keep our hearts, minds, and souls in the right place, Lord, as some of us face old temptations and maybe some new ones. Lord,” I take a deep breath, “please be with Silas during what seems to be a stressful and troubling time for him. You know his heart, Lord …” I add a silent prayer of thanks that I’ve been able to pick up on common prayer terminology in order to piece this together on the fly. Knowing people’s hearts, guarding those hearts, and watching over them are common requests.

“Thank you, God,” Eden enters. “Thank you for the blessing so far this semester of being able to watch each other grow and strengthen in you.” She squeezes my hand and I have no snarky thought. Eden thinks I’ve grown this semester, and for some reason that fills me with pride. “Please guard our hearts and minds as we depart campus for the next week and enjoy time with our families and friends. In Jesus’ name we pray.”