Then she looks up at me with watery eyes and says, “Do you think I could’ve held on to him if I’d been willing to, well, you know, do more of that stuff with him? I mean like Shawna does? Do you think I was too boring?”
“Oh, Emily!” I sigh in complete exasperation. “How can you even think that? And if it’s true, well, doesn’t it just prove what a total jerk-faced idiot he is?”
“I don’t know.”
And so it went with us. We sat in the food court of the mall just going back and forth about things like monogamy and fidelity and what’s okay and what’s not. And, let me tell you, by the time we finished we were just as confused as when we started. No, let me change that, we were more confused.
It’s like nothing really makes any sense when it comes to sex. It’s like all the lines get blurry and fuzzy and a girl can’t figure out what’s right or wrong or anything in between. And the truth is that most of the messages I’m getting are saying that it’s no big deal, that I should just go for it and be like those good-looking and popular girls who star in Friends. Not that I’m saying they’re tramps in their real lives, but if you add up how many guys they’ve all slept with on TV you’d probably hit triple digits.
But here’s what’s really troubling me most of all: I’m thinking that when it comes to sex, it’s the girls who get hurt. Oh, I don’t mean physically, although from what I hear, they don’t make out too well there either. But I mean emotionally, socially, even financially (look at Shannon). In every sexual relationship I can think of (even in Thea’s and Kirsti’s, even though they act like it’s no big deal when their boyfriends do something sleazy) it’s the girls who come out hurting. And I’ve got to ask myself, what’s up with that? And how is that fair?
So to say that I’m feeling more confused than ever is no exaggeration. And now I’m pretty worried about my promise to Justin about doing something “special” with him next weekend. And now I’m thinking that I should consider this whole thing more carefully, before it’s too late to just say “no.”
Not that I’m planning to say “no.” But if I do go along as planned, if I do agree to have sex with him, then I want to know that I’m doing it for all the right reasons. And right now, I’m just not too sure. But I will say this, I’m really thankful this weekend went the way it did. I’m so glad that Justin had SATs and his college visit while my parents were away. I mean who knows what might’ve happened otherwise?
fifteen
AS I ENTER THE AUDITORIUM FOR REHEARSALS, NATE WALKS UP TO ME AND says, “I’ve really been praying for you, Zoë.”
“Huh?” I look at him like he’s got a big green booger hanging from his nose.
“Well, it was weird, I just got this really strong feeling that I should pray for you this weekend. And so I did.”
“You actually prayed for me?” Now I feel kind of worried, like, what’s this supposed to mean? Does Nate think I’m some kind of a freaky chick who needs to be prayed for? I mean if he’s going to pray for someone, he should pray for someone like Shawna or Todd. Now those two are seriously messed up and probably in need of prayer. But, of course, I don’t say this.
“Yeah. Maybe I shouldn’t even tell you about it, but I just wondered if everything’s going okay with you?”
“Sure.” I feel uneasy. “Everything’s just fine.”
He smiles. “Good.”
Good? I think it’s kind of disturbing, not to mention weird. I mean Nate’s a nice guy, but I don’t really like the idea of him praying for me. Then I remember Shannon and I wonder if it might have had something to do with her. So I tell him about my strange overnight guest and how she took off the next day. And he seems really interested.
“That is so cool, Zoë,” he says with what seems like genuine admiration. “I can’t believe you’d do something like that.”
“Why not?” Suddenly I feel kind of sad about the whole thing. “But I was sort of disappointed when she left like that. It seemed so sudden.”
“But it sounds like she was going to do something to get off the streets,” he says. “You might’ve saved her life.”
I shrug now. “Oh, I doubt that.”
“Really, Zoë, maybe that’s why I was praying for you. Maybe God was using you to help her.”
“Maybe.” But I’m really thinking, yeah, sure, how could God use me? I mean I don’t even give God the time of day. Still, it does make me wonder.
“Well, I’ll be sure to pray for Shannon now.”
I nod. “Yeah, that’d be good.”
Rehearsal goes worse than usual today, like no one can get it together, and I can tell Mr. Roberts is getting seriously aggravated. Finally, he decides to call it a night and sends us all home. But not before he gives us a little lecture about how we need to take this thing seriously and how we have only four more weeks to get our acts together.
“How was the campus visit?” I ask Justin as he drives me home.
“Okay, I guess.”
“Do you think you want to go there?”
“Maybe, but I don’t really know why my dad’s so set on it. Well, other than the fact that he went there. The only good thing I can see is that I’d only be a couple hours from home.”
“That’s great,” I say in a cheerful voice. “Maybe I could even come up and visit you sometime.”
He nods.
“And how about your SATs?” I ask. “You never said how that went.”
He kind of frowns. “Who knows?”
“Well, did you feel okay about it?”
“Not really.”
“Don’t worry. I always feel the worst about the tests I end up acing.”
“But you’re a better student than I am.”
I feel surprised by this. “How do you know that?”
He shrugs. “I can tell.”
Now I’m feeling bad for him. He really seems down. “You shouldn’t think about it too much, Justin,” I tell him. “It won’t do any good to worry.”
He nods. “Yeah, you’re right.” Then he brightens. “Are we still on for Saturday night?”
I really want to tell him that I’m still thinking this whole thing over, but then I hate to disappoint him, especially when he’s already feeling so bummed right now. “Sure,” I say. “Looking forward to it.”
Then he reaches over and places his hand on my knee, giving it a little squeeze. “Me too.”
And so the week progresses with Justin and me. Hard play rehearsals, quick make-out sessions behind the scenes, small talk as we ride home together. Then the same old same old the next day. Am I getting bored with him? I’m not sure. Maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to bail on Saturday night. I don’t know.
On Thursday, Casey stumbles upon Justin and me making out behind one of the straw bales that we’re using for part of the set.
“I am getting so sick of this,” she says as we pull ourselves apart.
“Huh?” I mutter without looking her in the eyes.
“Everyone sneaking around and kissing and stuff. You’d think they put something in the school’s water.”
Justin laughs as he pulls a piece of straw from my hair. “Yeah, someone dumped love potion into the Hamilton High water system. Don’t you ever drink water, Casey?”
She just rolls her eyes and walks off. And, even though I know Casey is kind of a nerd, I still feel guilty about getting caught like this. It reminds me of the times I walked in on Shawna and Todd. Thankfully that hasn’t happened lately. In fact, I haven’t even seen them hanging together. I wonder if Emily’s little talk with Todd did some good after all.
Still, I think if I had to confront a boyfriend about something like that, well, what would be the use? Why not just lose the loser? I wonder what I’d do if Justin did that to me? He’s a pretty cool boyfriend, but I don’t think I’d stick around and take it like that. At least I hope I wouldn’t. I’m not sure why Emily doesn’t just give Todd his walking papers.
Justin has to leave early today for some family thing, and I am l
eft on my own for the remainder of practice, which also means I need to figure out a way to get home. I’d consider asking Shawna, but I’ve been really avoiding her this week. Actually, she might be avoiding me too.
I find a quiet corner during one of my breaks and think I might actually catch a quick nap when I am joined by Casey. I brace myself as she starts to chatter at me. As expected, it’s her usual lecture about how she is saving herself for that special guy and her wedding night. And I suppose I deserve this abuse after getting caught by her behind the hay bale, but finally I decide that enough is enough!
“Look,” I say to her, hoping I can cut this off. “I’m really sorry you found Justin and me kissing back there, but it really doesn’t have anything to do with you, okay?”
“Oh, I know that, Zoë,” she says, like she’s Miss Congeniality. “But like I’ve said, you seem like a nice girl, and I don’t get why you’d want to mess around with someone like Justin.”
“Excuse me?” I try to use a fairly insulting tone now. I mean this girl does not seem to get it. I thought I’d made myself clear about her dissing Justin like this.
“Oh, I’m not trying to judge Justin, but you know he has a reputation, and I don’t see why you—”
“Who doesn’t have a reputation?” I suddenly wish I hadn’t asked. Even an idiot can see where she’ll take this.
She points to herself. “Moi.”
“You do have a reputation, Casey. It just doesn’t have anything to do with sex.”
“The thing is, Zoë,” she continues, totally oblivious that I’d rather be talking to a stone than to her, “God has a plan for our lives. He has someone really special picked out for you, and if you waste yourself on someone else, you’ll be sorry when the real thing comes along.”
“When the real thing comes along?” I frown at her. “That sounds like a TV ad.”
“I mean when God brings your future husband into your life.” She points her finger at me now, a practice I can barely tolerate in anyone. “How are you going to feel when the man you truly love, the man you want to spend the rest of your life with, have children with, comes along and you have to tell him that you’ve already had sex with who knows how many other men?”
Well, how do you respond to something like that? I mean all I can do is just sit there and stare at her as I wonder, What planet did this chick beam down from? And when is she going back?
“I’m serious, Zoë.” This girl is relentless. “What are you going to tell him?”
“Who?” I ask dumbly.
“Your future husband.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know my future husband.”
“But when you meet him, when you’re engaged, about to be married . . . what are you going to tell him about the guys you’ve slept with and—”
“Hey,” I say defensively. “I haven’t slept with—” Then I stop myself. Why should I tell Casey that I’m still a virgin, especially when most of my friends think I’m not?
“See,” she says triumphantly. “It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?”
“You make me uncomfortable,” I tell her as I stand up.
“It’s not me, Zoë,” she says with confidence. “It’s God.”
Well, I don’t even respond to that as I walk over to the drinking fountain and take a long cool drink. I can’t believe that Casey Renwick, of all people, is able to push my buttons like that. What is up with her?
“Casey getting to you?” asks Nate from behind me.
I stand up, wipe my mouth, and stare at him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to pick up where she left off,” I say in a fairly hostile voice. “What? Do you Christians have some kind of game plan to drive the rest of us bonkers until we fall down our knees and beg God to help us?”
He laughs. “Not really. But it might be worth a shot.”
“Yeah, you bet.”
“Hey, I’m sorry if Casey comes on too strong. But she probably thinks she’s doing it for God’s sake.”
“Well, for God’s sake, I wish she’d knock it off.”
“Me too.”
“She acts like she knows what’s best for everyone.”
Nate seems to consider this then nods. “A lot of Christians make that same mistake.”
“Do you?”
“Oh, yeah, lots of times. But I’m trying to break the habit.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, I’m trying to think about the way that Jesus dealt with stuff,” he tells me as we sit in the back row of the auditorium.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Like he’d come across someone who was obviously blowing it and he wouldn’t get mad at the person or call them names or act like he was superior.”
“What would he do?”
“Become their friend.”
A little light goes on. “Oh,” I say. “Is that why you’re trying to be my friend?”
He looks slightly sheepish. “Well, I wish I could say that it was because of God, Zoë. But the truth is, I’ve always thought you were pretty cool. I always wanted to get to know you.”
Somehow this makes me feel better. “Thanks,” I tell him. “So, you’re not really trying to convert me or anything?”
“That’s God’s business,” he says. “I just want to be your friend.”
“Well, that’s cool.” I glance at my watch now and realize it’s close to quitting time. “Hey, friend, do you want to give me a ride home?”
“Sure, no problem.”
And so I find myself riding home in Nate’s old clunker pickup. He tells me that he likes it because it has a canopy in back where he and his band can stow their stuff when they’re doing a gig somewhere.
“People actually pay you to play?” I ask.
He frowns then laughs. “Yeah, I suppose it seems unlikely.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” I quickly tell him. “I just didn’t know if there’d be much money in religious music.”
“We don’t call it religious music,” he says.
“Christian music?” I try.
“It’s just music that’s played by guys who love God,” he says in a slightly weary voice, like maybe he’s had to explain this before.
Now I feel sort of bad. “I actually thought you guys were really good at the soup kitchen,” I say. “And if I hadn’t known it was you I probably wouldn’t even have known you guys were Christians.”
Now he really laughs. “You seem to have some pretty judgmental thoughts when it comes to Christians, Zoë. Why is that?”
I consider this. “I’m not sure. I mean my parents are Christians and I think they’re pretty cool. And you’re a Christian and I think you’re cool.”
He smiles now. “Thanks.”
“But then there are people like Casey Renwick.” I make a face. “She just makes me want to run screaming from God.”
“But she’s just one person.”
“Then there was my fifth-grade Sunday school teacher,” I begin to say and wish I hadn’t. I thought I’d forgotten about that woman.
“And?”
“Well, she was this uptight lady who got mad about everything, and she even made this boy cry one day because he forgot to bring his offering.”
“That’s too bad.”
“And she was so mean that I quit wanting to go to church, and I decided that God wasn’t very nice if he let people like Mrs. Daniels teach Sunday school.” Now I feel kind of silly, like this is no reason to turn my back on God. So I continue. “And then I got older and I read about things that have happened during history, things that were done in the name of Christianity. Things like the Crusades where innocent people were murdered for not being Catholic. Or wars over religion. I mean even Hitler claimed that God was on his side. I finally just got totally sick of the whole religion thing.”
“Do you believe that God controls people? That he made them do those evil things like Crusades and religious wars?”
I consider this and feel fairly cer
tain that God isn’t controlling me like that, so how could he control anyone else? “Probably not.”
“So is it fair to blame God for other peoples’ bad choices and mistakes?”
“Maybe not.”
“And do you think God was pleased with all that crud? Like the Crusades and killing and wars?”
I just shake my head no. “Turn on this street,” I tell him in a quiet voice.
“Sorry,” he says as he turns. “I guess I’m as bad as Casey. I really didn’t mean to preach at you, Zoë.”
We’re at my house now and I feel slightly offended by the lecture, but I’m not exactly mad at him. “It’s okay, Nate,” I say as I reach for the door handle. “If anything I suppose you’ve made me think.”
“Thinking’s okay,” he says with a smile. “Right?”
I smile back at him. “Yeah, thinking’s probably okay.”
“Mostly I just wanted to tell you that I think God has a really great plan for your life, Zoë. I mean you’re such a cool girl, and the way you helped Shannon, and volunteer at the soup kitchen . . . well, I just think that God has big plans for you.”
Well, I’m not too sure what that means, but at least it sounds encouraging. “Thanks for the ride,” I tell him as I climb from the pickup.
And so, between Casey Renwick and Nate Stein, I suppose I am thinking about God a bit more today. And I’m wondering if God really does have a plan for my life. Well, it’s kind of mind-boggling, but I guess I’m curious. It’s not like my own plans are anything to brag about these days.
sixteen
NEW GOSSIP BREAKS OUT ON FRIDAY MORNING AND IT’S NOT LONG BEFORE everyone is talking about it.
I get the scoop during second period. “Did you hear about Shawna?” Kirsti asks me during English lit. We’re supposed to be reading Ivanhoe, but Mr. Franklin has stepped out for a minute. That’s when I glance around the room and notice that Shawna is absent.
“What happened?” Maybe Shawna’s been in a car wreck or something tragic, which makes me feel horrible, since I’ve been so snooty to her all week.
I can tell Kirsti is thrilled that I haven’t heard yet. She loves to be the one to spill bad news. “Well, remember how Andrea’s cousin Caleb goes to Jackson High?”
Torch Red: Color Me Torn with Bonus Content Page 12
