“It’s true and you know it.”
“Well . . . I, uh, I just wanted to say hi.” Chelsea stepped away. “I think I’ll go find a seat.” Before Olivia could make another insinuation, Chelsea hurried down the aisle and as far away from them as she could get. As a result, she wound up sitting near the front with people she’d never met. She could feel the heat of embarrassment on her face, but she simply leaned over, put her head in her hands, and tried to gather her thoughts, hoping that others would assume she was praying.
She felt perfectly ridiculous. She couldn’t believe how much effort and energy she’d put into this evening. How she’d thought it might be almost like a date and that she’d somehow manage to get Nicholas’s attention. Well, she’d gotten it all right. Now she was so embarrassed she didn’t care if she ever crossed paths with him again. And that Olivia—well, she was a real piece of work. Like flies to honey? Who says that? But what really got Chelsea was how Olivia seemed perfectly confident and self-assured in her own skin. How had that happened? Chelsea simply did not get it.
The music was already playing, and Chelsea had to admit that the band seemed pretty good. Of course, she felt out of sync with everyone else smiling and singing, clapping and swaying to the beat. But she reminded herself that she was working on her acting skills. Why not put them to use here? So she began to act as if she were having as good a time as anyone. Ironically, the more she pretended, the less she needed to. She actually was enjoying herself.
But it was more than that. Chelsea felt as if the words to the songs and the messages being shared by the musicians were going straight to her heart. The more she heard about how these people were experiencing real relationships with a living God and how Jesus wanted to be their friend—their very best friend—the more she wanted this exact same thing in her own life. Chelsea knew she’d been lonely for a long time—probably since the death of her mother—and she wanted a friend who would stick by her no matter what.
When it came time to accept the challenge to step out of her comfort zone and go forward to stand up near the band, Chelsea went. With trembling knees and tears streaking down her cheeks, she prayed the prayer with the others who were standing up front.
“Dear Jesus,” she echoed the girl who was leading them, “thank you for forgiving me . . . I ask you to come into my heart . . . I invite you into my life . . . Thank you for wanting to be my best friend.” Finally she said, “Amen.”
The music started again, and people slowly filed back to their seats. As Chelsea made her way back, she glanced around to see if any others from the youth group had come up here, but she didn’t recognize any faces. Probably those kids had long since made this kind of commitment. That was fine because Chelsea knew that what she’d done was between her and God.
For the next few songs, the lyrics were posted on a huge screen behind the podium, which made it easy for Chelsea to sing along. As she sang these worshipful songs, she realized that she honestly meant the words. This was no act. She didn’t fully understand what she’d signed up for, but she knew the commitment she’d just made was genuine. And although she had no idea where all this would take her, she didn’t feel worried. Mostly she was just happy. Not a delirious, over-the-top sort of happy—it was more of a quiet and expectant kind of happy. Peaceful.
She sat in the same seat in the van as they drove home. This time everyone in the van was louder and more boisterous than earlier. Chelsea felt a bit like the old Chelsea . . . the invisible wallflower. But oddly enough, this time she didn’t really mind. She just wanted to be quiet and to soak all this in. She wanted to think about everything, to absorb what had happened tonight, to hide it deep inside of her—almost as if it were a rare jewel, something precious that she needed to protect and hold on to.
Just when Chelsea felt like she’d gained a somewhat secure position in Janelle’s life, almost best friend status, Lishia Vance returned from her summer vacation. Lishia, it seemed, was Janelle’s real best friend. This was only alluded to when Janelle suddenly became unavailable because she was with Lishia, then soundly driven home when Janelle brought Lishia over to meet Chelsea.
With just days before school was scheduled to begin, the three girls were hanging by the pool, like Chelsea assumed friends might do, but Lishia seemed determined to turn their conversation into some sort of competition between her and Chelsea. Every time Chelsea said anything, no matter how trivial, it felt like Lishia had to say something better to top her. Like Lishia thought someone was keeping score. Even when Chelsea casually mentioned to Janelle that a new shipment of designer jeans had just arrived at Best 4 Less, she was cut off mid-sentence.
“Oh, Chelsea,” Lishia gushed, “you should see the clothes my grandmother got me when we were in New York City.” Off she went describing each individual item of clothing in painstaking detail. Chelsea didn’t even think the clothes sounded that great, not to her anyway. But the most aggravating part was that when Lishia talked, which was often, it felt like Chelsea wasn’t even there . . . or was invisible. Even when she stood and picked up their empty drink glasses and went into the house, no one seemed to notice.
Chelsea puttered around in the house for a bit. She didn’t want to seem like a rude hostess, but how much was she expected to take from Lishia? Finally Janelle and Lishia came inside.
“Thanks for letting us come over,” Janelle told her.
Chelsea forced a smile. “Sure . . . anytime.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Lishia said halfheartedly.
“Lishia’s mom’s picking her up in a few minutes,” Janelle said.
“She promised to take us to the mall.” Lishia tugged on Janelle’s arm. “Come on, we better hurry if we want to get changed.”
Janelle gave Chelsea an apologetic glance. Chelsea just smiled like it was no problem. “Have fun,” she called out as they left. But after they were gone, she felt like crying. A hard lump grew in her throat, and she remembered what Virginia had done to her. Even though it was so long ago, it felt familiar and close now. As she wiped down the kitchen countertops, that old loneliness settled on her like a damp, gray cloud.
She poured soap into the dishwasher and reminded herself that she had God in her life now. He was her new best friend. She’d been praying to him too. God would get her through this. But as she turned the dishwasher on, she wondered—if Janelle and Lishia were Christians (since they were part of the youth group), didn’t that mean they should act differently? Or was Chelsea just assuming things? She felt confused as she picked up some newspapers and tidied up the great room. How were Christians supposed to act? How was she supposed to act? Was there someone to ask or some kind of guidebook somewhere?
She went back outside to check on the pool chemicals and do some vacuuming. Dad had made it clear from the get-go that keeping the pool clean was her job, and she took it seriously. She didn’t mind the work, especially now when she needed something to distract her from feeling left out. She was trying to untwist the pool’s vacuum hose when she noticed Dayton waving to her from the top of the wall between their properties.
“Need any help over there?” he called.
She shrugged. “I’m okay.”
He hopped down onto her side. “You’re more than okay,” he said, coming over. Leaning over the surface of the pool, he reached out to grab and untangle the hose, and without even asking, he started to help her. He chatted congenially as he assisted her in cleaning the pool and moving things around as they scrubbed the surrounding deck. To her surprise, she enjoyed his company. It seemed some of his previous cockiness had disappeared. In fact, he was almost polite.
“You seem different today,” she told him as they were stowing tools back in the pool shed. “Nicer.”
He chuckled. “Probably because Janelle’s not here.”
“You really don’t like her?” Chelsea studied his expression.
He shrugged. “She’s probably okay, but she and some of the other academics can be, you know, a little obno
xious.”
“I suppose you and your friends are never obnoxious.”
He grinned. “I guess some might think we are.”
“Well, at least you’re honest.” She closed the door to the shed. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” He cocked his head to one side. “So what do you think? Would you be interested in doing something with me?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know . . . like go grab a burger or something?”
She considered this. She actually was hungry. “You mean right now?”
His eyes lit up. “Sure. I haven’t even had lunch yet. How about heading to Bergdorf Burgers?”
“Bergdorf Burgers?”
“Yeah.”
“Do they make designer burgers?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Bernie Bergdorf opened it a couple years ago. And it’s pretty good. You in?”
“Okay, but how do we get there?”
“I’ll drive us.”
She remembered what Dad had told her about California’s driving law. “But I thought teens weren’t allowed to drive other teens unless—”
He grinned. “I just turned eighteen.”
“So you’re legal?”
He nodded. “Totally legal.”
She realized she was still in her swimsuit. Fortunately, it wasn’t the bikini this time. “Let me run and change.”
He looked slightly disappointed. “Not on my account.”
She rolled her eyes. “On my account.”
“Okay. I’ll get my car and come around to pick you up. Like ten minutes?”
“Perfect.”
He looked surprised. “Really?”
“Sure, why not?”
“I, uh, I just never knew a girl who could get ready in ten minutes.”
She stuck out her hand. “Well, you met one now.”
“Cool!”
She hurried inside, wondering if she really could get ready in ten minutes. In the old days, no problem . . . but now? Still, it was a fun test, and it eliminated the chance to be too choosy, which in some ways felt good. She pulled on some khaki shorts and a white T-shirt, ran a brush through her hair, and put on a little lip gloss and mascara. As she shoved her feet into her sandals, she thought that Dayton could take her or leave her—really, it made no difference since she wasn’t that into him. Oh, there was no denying that his attention was flattering, but she had no interest in getting involved with a sports jock.
When she went outside to where Dayton was standing next to a shiny blue late-model Mustang, she thought he looked like a cliché. But when he grinned at her like he thought she looked like a million bucks, she had to wonder—maybe Dayton had more going on than she realized. Anyway, what was the harm in finding out?
“I never saw a chick eat like you do,” he told her as she polished off her burger.
She wasn’t sure if she should be offended or not.
“No offense.” He held up his hands. “I mean, I like it.”
“Oh.” She nodded and reached for a fry. “Well, I was hungry. I kind of skimped on breakfast, then I swam laps this morning and—”
“You swam laps?” He looked surprised.
“Sure. I do most mornings. It’s good exercise.”
“Yeah, I know.” He looked at her like he was trying to figure her out. “I just never knew a girl like that.”
She laughed. “You mean one who’s not afraid to eat good food or swim laps?”
He was still studying her. “Uh-huh.”
She considered confessing all to him, then stopped herself. Really, what difference did it make? Especially when it seemed that he liked her as she was.
As they continued to talk, it seemed that he had dropped his previous facade and even admitted that he was worried about getting into a good college next year. “My mom is all sure that I can get an athletic scholarship, but I know that’s probably not going to happen—not at a big school anyway. I might act like I’m all that, but I’m aware that guys like me are easy to come by.”
“You never know.”
He shrugged. “I’ve got a feeling. Plus I know my grades aren’t real impressive. Probably because I’ve been more focused on sports than books.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“What?” He looked curious.
“How high school doesn’t really get us ready for what’s out there. And then we turn eighteen and we’re supposed to figure it out for ourselves.”
He nodded. “Yeah, and I’m already eighteen. Who knows where I’ll be a year from now.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “I could be in there flipping burgers. I’d probably have to work full time just to pay for my car.”
“You bought the car yourself?” For some reason, she’d assumed it was a gift.
“My dad got it for me when I turned sixteen. I know it’s because my parents divorced when I was a kid and my dad’s trying to make up for some stuff. But he made it clear to me that unless I take over all the payments and insurance and everything after I graduate, I’ll have to say adios to the Mustang.” He sighed. “It’s a sweet little ride.”
“Too bad.”
He shook his head like he was trying to wake up. “Sorry! I don’t know why I’m going on about all that depressing biz. Man, you probably won’t ever want to go out with me again.”
She felt guilty now, thinking how she hadn’t wanted to go out with him in the first place. “I’ve enjoyed this,” she told him. “I like it when people aren’t afraid to just be themselves.” Of course, she felt somewhat hypocritical since she was getting so used to keeping her own guard up. But that was different.
“That’s cool.” He nodded. “Maybe that’s why I like you.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, that and because you’re easy on the eyes.” He grinned.
“This has been fun.” She set her wadded-up napkin in the burger basket and smiled.
“Fun enough that you’d do it again?”
She pressed her lips together. “Maybe so.”
As they rode home, Dayton asked if Janelle had told her about Riley yet.
“Who?”
“Riley Atkins. She used to be my girlfriend. I figured Janelle might’ve blabbed to you about her.”
“No, she didn’t mention it.”
“Well, Riley and I went out for most of last year. She broke up with me right after prom. Some of my buddies said she only stayed with me to go to the stupid dance.” He shrugged. “Maybe they’re right.”
“Oh.”
“Riley is full of herself, like the world revolves around her—or like it should. I mean, just because a girl is pretty and popular doesn’t mean she should treat everyone else like—” His speech degenerated into some pretty coarse language. After a bit he seemed to notice that Chelsea wasn’t responding, and he looked slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on like that. But if I get to thinking or talking about that girl . . . well, I just can’t help myself.”
“It’s hard when people hurt you.”
“I guess. And I know Riley’s not worth feeling bad over. But with school starting . . . well, I’m not looking forward to seeing her.”
Chelsea could relate to this. She knew it was totally different, but she vividly remembered how she felt whenever September rolled around, how much she hated returning to school. She’d even begged to be homeschooled a couple of times. “Well, fortunately for you, I’m sure you have lots of other friends.”
He nodded, then turned to look at her. “But you’re new at school. Do you know anyone besides Janelle?”
“Her friend Lishia.”
Dayton made a sour face.
Chelsea chuckled. “And Lishia doesn’t seem to like me much.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Why?” She felt defensive. “I was perfectly nice to her.”
“That’s not it. You know how girls can be.”
Okay, now he had her. She wasn’t sure she did know. Oh,
she’d known at one point, sort of . . . but that was a long time ago.
“Girls can be so petty and jealous. Riley and her friends were always competing—over everything. I swear they’re worse than guys sometimes. Except they’re all quiet about it. They sugarcoat it or else they talk behind each other’s backs. It’s seriously twisted.”
Chelsea laughed. “Yes, I do know what you mean.”
“But you don’t seem like that.”
“Thanks. That’s how I hope to keep it.”
He pulled up to her house. “If you need a ride to school or anything—I mean, I have practice afterwards, so I couldn’t bring you home. But if you needed a ride, like even on the first day, I’d be more than willing to pick you up.”
“Thanks. I might take you up on that offer.”
“Do you think you’d be interested in doing anything this weekend?” He looked hopeful.
“Maybe so. Although I’m not sure what my dad’s plans are . . . or if he has any.” Despite her initial resolve, she gave Dayton her phone number. It wasn’t that she was crushing on him or anything like that, but he seemed like a pretty nice guy—underneath his star quarterback veneer. As she got out of the car and waved at him, she realized she no longer cared what Janelle thought of him. After all, Janelle had Lishia.
The first week of school was nothing like Chelsea had expected. For starters, everyone seemed to assume that she was Dayton Moore’s new girlfriend. Now, while Chelsea hadn’t done anything to squelch this rumor, she wasn’t exactly comfortable with it either. But hanging with Dayton seemed preferable to being friendless and alone. Thanks to Lishia, Janelle seemed to be keeping Chelsea at arm’s length.
Even though Chelsea had followed Janelle’s suggestion from a couple weeks ago to sign up for drama, and even though she had that class with Janelle, it seemed that Janelle was determined to treat Chelsea like she was contagious.
“Excuse me,” Chelsea finally said to Janelle on Friday afternoon. They were going into the auditorium at the same time, the location of their drama class. “I think maybe we’ve met before.”
Janelle’s brows arched. “You’re talking to me?”
Jerk Magnet, The (Life at Kingston High Book #1) Page 11
