“What do you want me to say?” She put a spoonful of cereal in her mouth.
“I don’t know.”
She swallowed. “What do you think of it?”
“Of what?”
“Of you and Timothy getting back together.”
I frowned. “I’m not really sure.”
“Uh-huh?”
“I mean, it’s kind of cool and everything. But at the same time—oh, I don’t know.”
“But at the same time what?”
“Well, maybe something doesn’t feel quite right or the same as before. But I don’t even know what.”
“Maybe getting Timothy isn’t such a big deal when it’s not a contest with Shawna.”
“I don’t think that’s it.”
She shrugged. “Maybe God is trying to tell you something.”
“I actually wondered about that last night. But what?”
“Maybe Timothy isn’t the right guy for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You probably know what I mean, Jordan.”
I glanced around to make sure that none of my family members were within earshot then spoke quietly. “You mean sex?”
She nodded. “Seems like it was an issue with you guys.”
“An issue?”
“You know, with Shawna using it to get him back from you, and then you were going to use it to get him back from Shawna.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“Maybe God is trying to warn you or something.”
“But I don’t plan on having”—I lowered my voice again— “sex.”
“But maybe Timothy does.”
I laughed and held up my cast-encased foot. “Yeah, I can just see us getting it on with this thing.”
“You’re not going to be wearing that forever. Besides, I’m sure that it’s possible to have sex with a broken bone. You could call and ask your doctor.”
“Oh, sure. Hand me the phone, will you?”
She laughed but then got serious. “But really, Jordan, you have to know that it’s going to be a pretty big issue with Timothy.”
I sighed. “Maybe so. But I just don’t want to think about that right now.”
“Fine. You’re the one who brought it up.” She smiled. “Thanks for the cereal.”
“You going to eat and run?”
“Actually, I have to babysit for my neighbor this afternoon. I should get back.” Then she paused. “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Edgar told me to invite you to youth group tonight.”
“Edgar told you?”
“Well, I happen to think it’s a good idea too. I mean, I realize you have your own church and everything, but Edgar thought you might like to visit just for the fun of it. Our youth pastor is pretty cool.”
So that’s how I ended up at Edgar Peebles’ youth group on a Saturday night. It was kind of weird, because I felt a little embarrassed to be there, and yet I felt really comfortable too, like it was the first time I’d been with a group of kids and able to just relax and be myself. And the kids were this strange mix. Geeks and freaks and nerds and academics and jocks, but most surprising of all was Lucy Farrell.
“I didn’t know you were a Christian,” she said to me.
“Same back at you.”
She grinned. “I guess it’s not the kind of thing you go around announcing over the PA system at school.”
“I’ve been a Christian for only a few days,” I admitted, “so this is all pretty new to me.”
“Well, this is a cool group.” She smiled at Kara and Edgar. “Good to see you guys.”
So I was starting to feel like maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad. But then the youth pastor dude started to talk, and when he announced that the topic of the evening was about forgiving your enemies, I wanted to bolt right out the door. It was like I knew he was talking directly to me—about Shawna. I even wondered if Edgar or Kara had actually tipped him off.
I tried not to listen too carefully, but this guy had a way of saying things that got under my skin. And before long, I realized that he totally made sense. It was just like Kara had been trying to tell me: How can you expect God to forgive you if you can’t forgive someone else?
“The cool thing about this kind of forgiveness,” he finally said, “is that you can’t even begin to do it without God’s help. He’s the only one who can show us how to forgive like this. And if you try to do it on your own, it’ll just turn into a mess.” And then we prayed. He asked God to guide us in forgiving others. Then he said “amen” and that was it.
“Did you tell him about me?” I whispered to Kara as we made our way to the snack table.
“Huh?”
“Did you tell your youth pastor about how I need to forgive Shawna?”
She laughed. “Oh, sure. I called him up and asked him to talk about this just for you.” She shook her head. “Give God some credit, Jordan.”
I smiled a little sheepishly. “Okay. Sorry to sound so paranoid.”
“It’s okay. I remember feeling like that too. It’s like God starts to nail you on something and you just don’t get how he can do it so efficiently.”
“I guess.”
So I came home tonight and wondered just how I was supposed to handle this thing with Shawna. I mean, how does a person go about forgiving another person? Do you call her up on the phone? Write a letter or email? Go in person? Or is it just between you and God? I wasn’t sure. And so I prayed again and asked God to show me. But to be perfectly honest, I was hoping he wouldn’t show me anytime soon. I didn’t really think I was quite ready for this.
The following day, probably due to the fact that I’d gone to youth group the night before, my mom decided we should all go to church together.
“But we hardly ever go,” said Leah as we all piled into the car. “What’s so special about today?”
“It’ll make it easier when we go at Christmas,” said my mom. “It won’t seem so much like we’re the kind of people who only go on the holidays.”
“But we are those kind of people,” complained Leah.
“It can’t be that bad,” I said to Leah.
Dad winked at me as he closed the car door.
And I suppose it wasn’t. But I could hardly believe my ears when Pastor Griswold also started preaching about forgiveness. Like don’t these pastors have anything else to talk about? Or had they gotten together and synchronized their messages specially for me this week? Anyway, Pastor Griswold said that nothing makes God feel worse than when we refuse to forgive someone after God has forgiven us. He also said how forgiveness is usually a two-way street. Often we need to ask people to forgive us as much as we need to forgive them. And to be perfectly honest, I knew that I had done Shawna wrong too. But the idea of asking her to forgive me felt pretty overwhelming. I wondered if it would be okay to just tell her I was sorry. At least it would be a step in the right direction. So when I got home after church, I went to my room and asked God to help me figure this thing out.
Although I felt like I needed to take care of it, and as soon as possible, I still wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. Like, I couldn’t see myself having my mom drive me over to Shawna’s and then hobbling up to her door and telling her that I was sorry. I mean, I want to obey God and everything, but how lame would that be? And an email seemed slightly impersonal. Plus, I remembered how she had used email in her little setup. Finally, it seemed that a phone call was the best route. I prayed as I dialed her number and then felt my hands actually shaking as I listened to the phone ring. I seriously hoped she wasn’t home and even considered hanging up before the message machine came on, except that I know she has caller ID.
“Hello?”
I thought it was Shawna, although her voice sounded flat and tired and totally unlike the old Shawna.
“Shawna?”
“Yeah.”
I took a breath. “This is Jordan.”
No response.
“I want to talk to you about something.”<
br />
Still no response. Had she hung up?
“Do you have a minute?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“What do you want, Jordan?” Her voice was seriously irritated now, and I half expected her to hang up on me.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story.” I paused to see if she had a problem with that, but when she said nothing, I continued. “I realize there’s a lot of crud between us and everything. And first of all, I want to tell you I’m sorry for some things I said and did to you, mostly in regard to Timothy.”
“Whatever.” She sounded bored now.
“And, well, I became a Christian recently and—”
“Are you for real?”
“Huh?”
“What’s up with you, Jordan? Why are you calling me like this?”
“Like I said, I invited God into my life and I know that he wants me to make things right with you, or at least try. And I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry and that I’m not going to hold any of this against you. That’s all.”
Dead silence.
“Are you still there?”
“Yeah. But why are you saying that?”
“What?”
“That you’re not going to hold this against me? I mean, it doesn’t make sense. Why aren’t you totally ticked off at me, Jordan?”
“Because of God. I realized that I needed to tell you I was sorry and that I’m not carrying a grudge. I just thought I should let you know.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know exactly why.” I thought hard about what Pastor Griswold had said this morning. “I guess it’s just because that’s what God wants us to do. He forgives us and we’re supposed to forgive others. It’s really pretty simple.”
“So are you serious, Jordan?” Her voice had softened just a little. “No hard feelings?”
“Yes. Totally.”
“So, what’s the deal then? Do you expect something from me?”
“No, I just wanted to let you know.”
“And do you, like, think this means we’re going to be good friends again?” I could hear the distinct note of sarcasm in her voice.
“No, that’s not it. I just hope we won’t hate each other anymore.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you do.”
“Look, it’s your choice, Shawna. But for the record, I don’t hate you anymore.”
“Whatever.”
“And I’m really sorry that everything got so messed up for you lately.”
“Yeah, I’ll just bet you are.” Now that old sharp edge returned to her voice. “Betsy already told me that you and Timothy are back together—”
“We’re not really back together again.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
“Really. We’ve talked and stuff. And he asked me to the Winter Dance. But I’m not even sure that’s what I want anymore.” I couldn’t believe that I was actually confessing this to Shawna Frye, of all people. I mean, who knew what she might do with something like this?
Now she laughed. But it was a harsh, bitter-sounding laugh.
“Really, Shawna, the only reason I called was to say I’m sorry. And I hope you’re doing okay.”
“So, you’re really serious about this God thing?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not just some cheap little trick for getting back at me?”
“Honestly, Shawna. I gave my heart to God and I’m trying to live my life differently.”
“Jordan Ferguson gets religion.” It sounded like the title of a TV movie.
“Yeah, something like that.” I really wanted to end this conversation now.
“Well, that’s pretty weird.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I’m sure it seems weird to you. And it did to me at first, but it makes more sense every day.”
“And you really aren’t getting back together with Timothy?”
I considered this before I gave her my most truthful answer. “The more I think about it, the more I feel pretty certain that I’m not.”
“Well, it just figures.”
“What?”
She didn’t say anything.
“So, really, Shawna, if you think you and Timothy still have something, seriously, I won’t be standing in your way anymore.”
Now she laughed again. But her laughter seemed worn out and perhaps laced with sadness. “Oh, you got that right, Jordan. Timothy and I still do have something.”
I blinked in surprise, since Timothy had sounded like they were totally over. “Well, hey, that’s cool with me. Really.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it is. I wasn’t even going to tell you either.”
“You don’t have—”
“No, why not? Why not just lay all the cards on the table, Jordan. In case you’re interested, that special something that Timothy and I have together”—she paused—“is something you’ll be just as glad not to get.”
“Huh?”
“Timothy infected me with an STD.”
“STD?” I knew I’d heard those initials before, but it took me a split second to realize that she was actually talking about a sexually transmitted disease. “Are you serious?”
“I got the freaking results back from the doctor on Friday.”
“Oh, man, I am so sorry, Shawna.”
“Yeah, me too. And maybe I’m just assuming something here . . .” Then she paused again. “Or maybe I’m wrong, but the last I heard, you and Timothy hadn’t actually done it or else you’d better get yourself checked too.”
“Oh, no problem, I don’t need to get checked.” I felt a new rush of relief.
“Lucky you.” But her voice sounded flat and tired again.
“Have you told Timothy yet?”
“I called him yesterday and he accused me of making the whole thing up.”
“But you’re not, are you?”
“Yeah, right.” She sighed. “Sheesh, why would I make up something like this, Jordan? It’s not like it makes me look good. But, hey, if you don’t believe me, you could always go ahead and find out for yourself.”
“Yeah, thanks a lot.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I hope you’re getting good treatment for it, Shawna.”
“Oh, it’s the best that modern medicine has to offer. It can control the symptoms, but the disease will be with me until someone invents a cure, which might not be for a few more decades.”
“I really am sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Take care.”
“Thanks. And thanks for calling.”
I hung up the phone and just shook my head. An STD? That was just too much to even begin to wrap my head around. All I could do was pray. First I thanked God for protecting me, and then I prayed for both Shawna and Timothy. I wasn’t even sure how I should pray for them. But mostly, I just asked God to help them come to him in the same way that I was coming to him. “They’re going to need you,” I prayed. “Please help them find you.”
twenty-four
SOMEHOW, AND I SUPPOSE IT’S NOT TERRIBLY SURPRISING, THE WORD GOT out that Shawna and Timothy both have an STD. Thankfully, I was not the informant. And also thankfully, I had already broken things off with Tim before this became common knowledge.
“I really don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now,” I had told him last Monday. “You see, I just gave my heart to God and there are a few things I need to figure out right now. And consequently, I can’t go to the dance with you either.”
I wasn’t that surprised when he barely reacted to my gentle rejection. He obviously had bigger problems on his mind now, and it was hard not to feel sorry for him.
It was toward the middle of the week that the rumor really began circulating. I think it actually started out among the guys. Who says guys don’t gossip? But then on Friday a new story began spreading like wildfire.
“Did you hear the latest?” Jenny pulled me aside right before second period. She had this total look of horr
or in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, certain there must be a student with a machine gun holding half the students hostage somewhere.
“Timothy has to quit basketball!”
“Oh. I thought it was something really serious.”
“This is serious,” she said. “Now there’s no way we can go to state this year.”
“Why is he quitting?” I asked.
“They say it’s because of the treatment he’s taking for the STD. He’s allergic to penicillin, so they have to do some kind of experimental drug that might cause him to have a heart attack if he’s playing basketball.”
“No, really?”
“Really. Not only is he out of luck with the ladies but now he doesn’t even have sports to fall back on.”
“I guess this wipes out all hope of a scholarship too.” I shook my head. “He must be feeling rotten.”
And I’m sure it doesn’t help that all of his friends are pretty mad at him now, like he personally decided to ruin this basketball season for everyone.
“I can’t believe he did this to us,” said Ashley as we stood in the lunch line.
“Did this to us?” I echoed. “What about him?”
“He’s getting what he deserves,” she said as she picked up a salad. “It’s just not fair that he has to drag the whole school down with him.”
“Well, according to what I read last night, he’s not the only one with this kind of problem.” Now, I hate to admit that I had gotten a little worried about all this STD business myself. I mean, I realize we’d only kissed, but I wasn’t totally sure that these viruses were only transmitted through the actual sexual deed. Just to be safe, I decided to do a little research.
“What do you mean?” Ashley frowned at me.
“I mean, according to statistics, Shawna and Timothy can’t be the only ones at school with an STD. There are probably a whole bunch of other kids who should get checked, whether they have symptoms or not.”
“Well, thanks for making my day,” said Ashley.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. This is probably something they covered in health class anyway.”
“Like we ever listened.” Ashley rolled her eyes.
So everyone was in a pretty foul mood at school today. Ironically enough, we had a pep assembly this afternoon and, let me tell you, it was totally pathetic. Not only was it poorly attended but the kids who did show up had about as much enthusiasm as a pile of turnips. I was actually glad that I didn’t have to be down on the gym floor with the rest of the cheerleaders, trying to generate some lukewarm enthusiasm. It’s really amazing how everything can change in the course of a week.
Deep Green: Color Me Jealous with Bonus Content Page 14
