by Anne Dayton
I open my mouth to set the record straight, but Zoe cuts me off.
“Isn’t that great? We’re all applying now.”
Did I tell Zoe I would apply to USC? I don’t think I actually said that.
“The idea of sticking together was too good to pass up.” She walks over to Dean and wraps her arms around him. “Now I can go to college with all my favorite people.”
“Oh.” Dean’s arms hang uselessly at his side, pinned by Zoe’s embrace. He drops his bow to his feet. “But I thought we said it might not be possible for you . . .” She lets him go and picks up his bow. His face is painted in a smile, but there’s something funny in his eyes, a strained look. “Because of the stable and all.”
“Nick said the money stuff would all work out fine.” Zoe shrugs and pulls another arrow out of our communal quiver. “I’m not worried about that anymore. Ms. Moore’s going to help me with the financial aid forms.”
I study Zoe’s face. It’s so full of hope for our futures together, for all her dreams coming true. Then I look at Dean’s and see something she’s clearly missing, but I’m not quite sure what it is myself. Fear that she can’t afford USC? Fear that she won’t get in? Fear that she will?
I turn away, fit the nock against the string, and squint at the target.
“Hey, is that Michael?” Dean drops his arrow and points across the blacktop to the soccer field.
I snap my head around. There’s a crowd of guys gathered around a blond head. A few of them are whooping and cheering, and then, as soon as Mr. Fuentes turns toward them, they scatter. And in that instant, my heart stops.
Michael’s maroon PE shorts are around his ankles, his tighty-whities too bright against the foggy sky. It’s only a split second before he has his shorts pulled up again, but in that brief moment I can see his shoulders tense up, and I can read my brother so well that even from here I can see what’s about to happen. I take off at a sprint, but Michael is already running headlong toward the cluster of guys, his shrieks piercing the air.
“Riley!” Zoe calls after me, but I don’t turn around. I couldn’t make my legs stop moving if I wanted to. In some otherworldly, primal way, all that matters is getting to my brother, getting to him in time to stop what’s about to happen.
The thing about Michael is, he’s scrawny, but when he’s upset, it’s like he gets this superhuman strength and he can’t control his own body. Two years ago, he went into a fit at Safeway, knocking rows of pickles off the shelf, and when Dad tried to hold him down, Michael broke his nose.
I feel a burst of adrenaline, and I pump my legs, closing the ground between us with each long stride, but Michael is already swinging his arms, and before I know what’s happening, one of the guys drops to the ground.
“STOP!” I yell, but I’m not sure who I’m yelling at—Michael or Mr. Fuentes, who’s jogging across the field, his baggy sweatpants billowing out behind him. Michael is screaming, and he’s swinging his arms, aiming for the other guys. I vaguely register whistles from the other teachers on different sides of the field, and I try to speed up, but my lungs are starting to burn, and Mr. Fuentes makes it to Michael before I do. Even from fifty yards way, I can see that Michael doesn’t mean to do it, that he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but as soon as Mr. Fuentes gets too close, Michael’s fist connects. Mr. Fuentes’s head rears back, and he collapses on the ground. Michael is still throwing his arms around, screaming, but everyone backs away.
I can’t draw breath into my lungs, and I slow my steps. Michael doesn’t see me. He’s trapped inside his head by his rage.
I stop in the middle of the field and gasp for air because I know it’s too late anyway. It doesn’t matter how much I want to help him now. I can’t argue his way out of this one. Michael hit a teacher. They’re never going to let him stay at Marina Vista now.
15
“And now, as promised, we have a guest speaker tonight.” Fritz, our youth pastor, hesitates, then picks up a blue paperback Bible from the edge of the stage. “Pastor Jandel is going to talk about the importance of Scripture. Here at Seaview, we want you all to rely on the truth of God’s Word.” He holds up the Bible in his hand. “But to get there, you have to know what the Bible says, and then you can figure out what the words will mean to your life and how they will guide you.” He wipes his hand across his forehead. “So let’s all put our hands together and show Pastor Jandel how excited we are to have him here tonight!”
Christine nudges me, and I shrug. At Sunday school this morning, Fritz told us that Jandel would be speaking tonight, which helps explain why the room is half-empty, but honestly, it’s part of the reason I came. I have about a million other things to be doing, but I wanted to hear what this guy has to say. What I’ve heard and seen on Sunday mornings make me wary, but I’m here to decide for myself.
Fritz claps, and some of the freshmen in the front row join him, but most of us just wait as Pastor Jandel walks up to the stage. His face is red, and he’s walking too fast, like he’s nervous. He steps onto the plywood stage and rests his Bible and his notes on the music stand at the front edge. I shift in my seat while he fiddles with the rickety stand, adjusting it so he can read his notes. He steeples his fingers, clears his throat, and smiles.
“Thank you, Fritz.” Pastor Jandel takes the microphone out of the stand and turns to us. “And would you look at how beautiful you are. God’s precious children.” At the last word, an uncomfortable feeling settles on the youth room. Someone in the back coughs loudly. “I’m so thankful to be here with you tonight.” Pastor Jandel opens the leather-bound Bible with gilt edges. “Thank you, Brother Barker.” I shake my head, then remember that’s Fritz’s last name. “It’s so true. The beauty of the Word of our Lord is its certainty, its truth that has been passed down through the ages.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zoe nod. Well, I guess that’s fair. I do believe the Bible is true. Fritz shifts in his chair.
“But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with our reading for tonight. I’d like you all to turn in your Bibles to Matthew seven, verses thirteen and fourteen.” A few kids pull out their Bibles and rustle the tissue-thin pages, but most of us just stare back at him. I didn’t bring my Bible. Fritz always projects the Bible verses on the screen behind the stage. “Got it?” He looks out at us, smiling too widely. “Who’d like to read it out loud?”
No one raises their hand.
“Ana, how about you? Would you read the Scripture for us?” he asks, smiling at her so we all know it’s not a question. That’s what Ana gets for having involved parents. Jandel hasn’t been very involved with the youth group, and he doesn’t know most of our names.
Ana’s eyes widen, but then she turns back to the open Bible in her lap. “ ‘Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it,’ ” Ana says, her voice halting. She lowers the Bible into her lap and raises an eyebrow at Pastor Jandel, and he gestures for her to keep reading. “ ‘But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it,’ ” she finishes slowly.
“Thank you, Ana,” he says, swiping his hand across his forehead. “Isn’t that a great passage? It’s such a great image of how hard it is to stay on the right path, isn’t it?”
A few kids nod. I bite my lip.
“With all the temptations around you guys today, on the Internet, on TV, and in the school yard, it’s harder than ever to keep your eyes focused on Jesus and not the hunk from the football team.” He gives us a toothy grin, like he thinks he’s said something clever.
Oh wow. Okay. That was kind of direct. I take a deep breath and pretend like I’m stretching and glance around the room. Good. She’s not here. I know he didn’t mean it to attack anyone, but some people might take that last bit to be a criticism of . . . Well, anyway, I’m glad Asha missed youth group tonight.
“What I want to talk about today is keeping your eyes focused on
the Word in the midst of temptation.” He laughs, but when no one responds, he smoothes down the pages of the Bible on the music stand in front of him. “The good thing is, you’re not alone. Even when you’re facing the worst temptation, Jesus is right there with you, helping you every step of the way.”
I tap my fingers against the edge of my chair. Freshman year, I really bought into the whole “the J-man is my buddy” routine, but I don’t know. These days I need something more than that. Not a pal or a friend—something deeper, something bigger and more inspiring.
“Now, we’ll go into that more in a minute, but I wanted to point out the other good news we’ll cover tonight. The other good news is that if you don’t know what to do, all you have to do is look in this book.” He raises his Bible up in the air. “God’s rules are spelled out for you in black and white; all you have to do is follow the path he’s marked out.”
I cross my legs. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing in there about what college to pick or how to know if you’re doing enough to help someone you love. Are there rules I missed? Because the ones I’ve found in there are all about what kind of animal to slaughter for what sin and how long women are supposed to stay away from civilization every month.
I raise my hand tentatively.
“Question!” Pastor Jandel points to me, obviously delighted. “Yes . . .”
“Riley.” I clear my throat and scoot forward to the edge of my chair. Christine’s eyes widen. “Um, yeah. I was just wondering, I don’t know, if there were times when you thought the Bible wasn’t totally clear on certain things.” I glance at Fritz; he’s smiling at me.
“Excellent question,” Pastor Jandel says, and I scoot back in the chair. “Now, I know when you’re young, a lot of things about life don’t seem to make sense. ‘Who am I? Where am I going? Why would God tell me to act one way when my feelings are telling me to act another way?’ That kind of thing.” He smiles at me, like he’s trying to be encouraging. “But as you get older, it becomes more clear. The truth of Scripture comes into sharper focus, and I’m here to assure you that God’s Word is bigger than any of the questions you may have.”
“But—” I shuffle my feet. Did he just say I’m too young to understand instead of actually answering my question? “All kinds of horrible people have used the Bible to justify bad stuff, like wars and slavery and stuff. How can you be so sure you’ve got the right interpretation?” Beside me, Ana nods, and someone in the back of the room coughs.
“Riley, I understand exactly where you’re coming from.” Jandel gives me a saccharine smile. “I had the same questions when I was young.” I bite my lip. “I know that when you’re young, you hear bits and pieces of Scripture but you never get a sense of the whole beautiful truth that’s contained in here, so here’s what I’m going to suggest. I want you to commit to reading the Bible—the entire thing from start to finish.” I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off. “I know, I know, you have homework and activities and all kinds of things going on, but you should make reading God’s Word a priority, and here’s why—”
“I’ve read the whole Bible.” I say it loudly so he can’t talk over me. “I’ve read it several times, in fact.”
Jandel stops dead still and then recovers, pasting a smile on his face.
“Well, that’s just great. And so you know—”
“I know that it doesn’t have answers to all of my questions,” I say. The room is silent. I see Ana and Zoe make eye contact. “It doesn’t tell me where to go to school or who to go out with or what to do with my life or how to help my brother. I want to know how to make the right choices, and I would love it if there were rules that spelled it all out, but there aren’t, and I want to know what to do about that.”
Pastor Jandel clears his throat and smoothes the pages of his Bible again. “Why don’t you come up and talk to me afterward?” he finally says. “We have a lot of ground to cover tonight, and I don’t want us to get derailed. But I would love to help answer your questions, Riley.” He smiles, a little too wide, and I can see that he actually has no answer for me.
I nod as he turns back to his Bible, even though I already know I’m not going to take him up on it.
16
My phone beeps to say I’ve got a text message, and I smile when I see it’s from Tom.
Come outside.
Outside? Is he . . . I open my bedroom door quietly and peer up and down the hall. Mom and Dad’s door is shut and so is Michael’s. It’s been a tense night around here. I tiptoe down the hall, pulling my old sweatshirt around me to stay warm.
I open the front door slowly, being careful not to let it creak on its hinges, and leave the porch light off.
“Hey,” I say softly and step onto the cold stone of the front entryway. Instantly my toes begin to sting in the cool November air.
Tom leans down and brushes his lips across mine. “Hey,” he whispers into my hair. His warm breath feels good on my skin. “How’s it going in there?”
I pull the hood of my sweatshirt up and yank on the cords to draw it around my face. “It’s like a death march through hell on a bitter cold day.”
He rubs my shoulders to warm me up and laughs. “Yeah, I don’t imagine Michelle is taking this too well.” This is our joke, calling my parents by their first names. Somehow it takes their power away and makes us feel older. “Did Aunty Kathy say she’d come down?”
I sigh and blow into my hands. “No, she decided to get all spontaneous on us and go to Hawaii with a friend of hers. So Dad’s going to have to stay home with Michael.”
After socking his gym teacher, Michael was suspended. It didn’t seem like Ms. Lovchuck wanted to do it, but rules are rules, and physical violence against a teacher is an automatic suspension. That means he won’t be able to go to the big homecoming game tomorrow. I feel bad for Michael, I really do, but that’s the one night I really needed Mom and Dad. Oh well. Riley loses again, I guess.
Tom tilts his head to the side. “Rye, I’m so sorry.” I try to say something, but he stops me. “I know you say it’s no big deal or whatever, but it is a big deal, a huge deal. You’re going to be crowned Homecoming Queen.”
I feel my cheeks get hot in spite of the cold November air. “We’ll see about that.” I thread my arms around his waist and pull him in. “At least you’ll be there.” I tilt my face up, prompting him to kiss me.
He kisses my forehead but seems distracted. “Actually, I—” He takes a step back and digs for something in his back pocket. “That’s why I drove down here to surprise you. I’m afraid I’m going to have to wish you luck tonight instead of tomorrow.”
“What?” My teeth begin to chatter, and my eyes sting in the cold.
“I got a job, Riley. But they want me to work tomorrow night. They’re totally understaffed.”
“You got a job!” I brighten up in spite of myself. Tom’s been interviewing for weeks. Finding a job that fits into his school schedule has been really hard. “That’s great.”
“It’s a really cool place—Velo Rouge Cafe. And you could get a job there too if you went to UCSF. How cool would that be?” As he talks, he unrolls something long, white, and silky and gently places it over my head.
“What’s this?” I look down at the thing he hung around my neck.
“I made you a sash.” He beams from ear to ear. “I found this old material in my mom’s sewing room. I think it’s from some wedding dress or something.”
I try to read the letters he wrote with what appears to be Sharpie marker on a strip of shiny white satin. “Most Perfect Girl in the Universe.”
“Homecoming Queen doesn’t seem to really cover it.” He takes my hands and leans back to admire me for a minute.
I turn from one side to the other and do a slow pageant wave. “I want to thank all the little people.” I blow a kiss at him, and he wraps me in a hug, pressing my body tightly to his for a kiss.
“So you’ll forgive me for missing it?” His face i
s sad.
I stare down at my toes, and the shiny red polish I put on tonight gleams back at me. I can’t be a baby about this. It’s not his fault. He’s an adult, he found a good job, and they need him to work. That’s the real world for you, and I have to take it like a grown-up, not some stupid high school girl who’s hung up on fake-diamond tiaras and football games. “It’s totally fine.” I try to make my voice sound convincing. “I get it.”
He leans down and gently, slowly kisses me on the lips. He moves his lips to my cheek and leaves a tiny kiss there, and it dries in the crisp air.
“You’re freezing,” he whispers, sending another shiver down my body. “Let’s go inside for a little while.”
I bury my face in his shoulder while I think it through. Mom and Dad won’t come out of their room until the morning, and they’re heavy sleepers. Michael sleepwalks now and then, but he seemed pretty tired tonight.
“I don’t want to turn around and drive back to the city without having a chance to be with you.” He gently tucks my hair behind my ear and then cups my chin in his hand and kisses me deep and long.
We finally part with my head swimming, drunk on the thrill of him, the way his mouth feels against mine.
“Okay.” I nod finally and grab the doorknob without meeting his eye, too afraid of what my face shows. “Just for a little while.”
17
I slip my dress over my head and wiggle my hips to get it into place. Someone burns a hole in the ozone layer with a cloud of Aqua Net. The other girls on the homecoming court have been standing around the equipment room at the stadium for a while, but the girls on the squad had to cheer in the first half of the game, so we only have a few minutes to get ready. I pull my hair up into a messy bun, then cast one last glance at my reflection and push the heavy bathroom door open.
