Jerk Magnet, The (Life at Kingston High Book #1)

by Melody Carlson

  “Well, I hope you’ll feel welcome here.”

  “Everyone seems very nice,” she told him.

  “It’s a good group of kids. We’re not perfect by any means. But most of us are trying to live our lives for God, or at least we’re here to find out more about him.”

  “Is that what this camp is for?” she asked. “To find out more about God?”

  “Yes. Didn’t you know that?”

  “Not really. But that sounds good to me.”

  He looked surprised. “So you want to find out more about God?”

  “I do.” She nodded. “I really do.”

  He asked if she wanted to talk to him about her experience with God, and for a moment Chelsea forgot she was playing a role. She admitted that she really did want to talk about it. “I recently made a commitment,” she said. “No one besides . . . Brittany knows about it.” She glanced over to where Janelle/Brittany was still entertaining a small crowd, almost like she was on stage.

  “I’d be happy to—” He was cut off by an air horn.

  “Okay, campers, it looks like dinner is ready to be served,” a guy from up front announced. “Let’s start finding our seats and get on with it.”

  “Come on,” Nicholas told her. “You can sit with me.”

  Chelsea blinked. “Uh, okay.” She looked over to where Chase seemed to be leading Janelle/Brittany toward them. Just like that they were seated together, along with Olivia and a couple of others from their church’s youth group. The banter was familiar, but instead of attempting to get involved like she normally would, Chelsea just stared down at her white paper placemat and wished she could disappear into thin air. As badly as she’d wanted to get to know Nicholas—before, anyway—she had no desire to do it like this. It was a terrible plan, and she knew she would regret it even more as the weekend progressed. Perhaps she’d spend the weekend in her room. After all, wasn’t she supposed to be sickly?

  The blessing was said, and food servers came out and began to set dishes of food in front of them. Chelsea’s stomach was tied in knots, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat. She remembered how Kate used to coach her in an effort to calm her nerves—slow and easy. She picked up her fork and slipped it into the spaghetti, turning it around and around and around as the kids at her table continued to talk and laugh and tease and joke. She couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt more out of place, more like an oddity, more like a loser, than right now.

  As she attempted to eat, Nicholas worked hard to make small talk with her. She tried to sound responsive and interested, but it was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Not only did she feel like a misfit, she felt like a phony.

  “Where are Chelsea and Janelle?” asked Sam, one of the youth group guys. He went to another school and obviously hadn’t heard. “Aren’t those two coming?”

  “They’re off in San Francisco,” Lishia told him.

  “Too bad.” Sam shook his head. “I was hoping to spend some time with Chelsea.”

  Chase playfully slugged Sam in the arm. “She probably wasn’t hoping to spend time with you.”

  “Why not?” Sam retorted. “She seems like a pretty nice girl to me.”

  “Don’t you mean she seems like a pretty hot girl?” Chase challenged.

  “I heard she broke up with Dayton last week,” someone said.

  “Yeah, we saw the whole thing,” Olivia told them. She gave her eyewitness report, which was mostly inaccurate. Not that Chelsea planned to straighten them out. It was all she could do to keep from looking at Janelle, which she knew wouldn’t be smart right now.

  “Well, if Chelsea is really a Christian,” Lishia said, “I don’t see why she was going with someone like Dayton Moore in the first place. A Christian girl wouldn’t do that.”

  “Who said she’s a Christian?” Nicholas said. “Maybe you’re wrong to judge her by Christian standards.”

  “Who is this Chelsea person anyway?” Janelle asked Chase, “and why is she such a hot topic?”

  “Chelsea’s part of our youth group,” Chase explained. “And she’s a hot topic because she’s a hot girl.” He grinned at Janelle. “But not as hot as you.”

  Janelle actually batted her eyelashes—rather, her fake eyelashes. “Thank you, Chase. You’re so sweet I’ll bet sugar won’t even melt in your mouth.”

  He didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. But unfortunately, the topic remained on Chelsea. While it was slightly amusing to think that she was so interesting to them, it was also irksome and hurtful to hear their candid opinions of her. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she stood, “but I didn’t know Christians liked to gossip so much. Please excuse me.” She walked out of the dining room and back to her room, where she was determined to stay until Sunday.

  It wasn’t long until her cell phone rang. “Trina?” Janelle’s voice rang out. “Are you all right, darling?”

  “I’m fine,” Chelsea told her. “I just needed a break from the catty Christians.”

  “I understand completely,” Janelle drawled. “I’m only calling to tell you that there will be a group meeting at eight—”

  “Thanks but no thanks.”

  “All right then, darling. I’ll see you later.”

  “Have fun.” And Chelsea meant it. At least one of them should be having fun with this experiment. Perhaps by tomorrow, Chelsea would feel like having fun too. She was about to turn off her cell phone when she noticed that Dad had called, and she decided to call him back. Kate answered, and Chelsea asked how they were doing.

  “Maui is beautiful and wonderful,” Kate told her, “but I think both your dad and I are ready to come home.”

  “Well, you only have a couple more days,” Chelsea reminded her. “I wish I were there.” She filled Kate in on how their little experiment was going, although she tried to keep it upbeat.

  Kate laughed. “I think that sounds like fun.”

  Chelsea sighed. “I’ll admit it’s an eye-opener. And Janelle is sure enjoying herself.” She thanked Kate for helping Janelle with her makeover. “She actually looks pretty hot, even without the blonde wig.” Suddenly Chelsea heard someone knocking at the door. “I’ll bet that’s her now,” she said. “She probably forgot her key.” They said goodbye, and Chelsea went to open the door. Seeing it wasn’t Janelle but Nicholas, she opened the door to about a two-inch crack. Trying to act embarrassed that he’d come to their room, she was actually trying to cover up the curious-looking clutter in their dressing room.

  “Sorry to bother you,” Nicholas said. “But I was hoping we could talk.”

  “Oh . . . I don’t know.”

  “Want to come out and get a soda or something?”

  Despite herself, she felt caught up again. On so many levels, Nicholas seemed like a great guy. “Okay. Give me a minute.” Thankful she hadn’t ripped off the wig like she’d meant to do, she closed the door and ran over to check herself in the mirror. She touched up her lips, smoothed her boring brown bob, and put her glasses back on, then took in a deep, steadying breath. Maybe she could do this.

  First of all, I want to apologize,” Nicholas told Chelsea as they walked down a stone path. “Like I said earlier, just because we’re Christians doesn’t mean we’re perfect. Far from it. The main difference between Christians and everyone else is that Christians know that God has forgiven them for their blunders. Unfortunately, like you witnessed tonight, we still blunder.”

  “Oh.”

  He talked a bit more about how he and other Christians were works in progress. “Anytime a Christian thinks he’s arrived, he better watch out. I know from experience that we can fall on our faces just like that.” He stopped in front of the camp café, asked her what she wanted, then went inside to order them sodas. She nervously waited outside at a little table, wondering what to do.

  “Here you go,” he said as he set the paper cups on the table and sat down. “I’m really sorry, Trina,” he said again,
“that your first camp experience started out on such a sour note.”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay . . . but it does make me wonder.”

  “About what?”

  “That girl everyone was talking about.” Chelsea looked down at her drink. “I’m curious why they were so down on her. Did she do something to offend them or something?”

  He laughed. “No, I don’t think so. Between you and me, I think the problem with Chelsea is that she’s too pretty for her own good.”

  “What?” Chelsea peered through her glasses at him. “How is that possible?”

  “I’m sure it sounds bizarre, but I think it’s true.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Girls like that . . . well, it seems like they might care more about the outside than the inside.”

  “So you know this girl fairly well?” Chelsea was feeling bolder now. “You’ve spent a lot of time with her?”

  “Not really. But I know about those kinds of girls.”

  “You mean the ones who are too pretty?”

  He nodded.

  “Would you put my friend Brittany in that category?”

  He looked caught off guard. “I didn’t mean to suggest that. She seems very sweet.”

  “But too pretty?”

  “Maybe . . . I’ve warned Chase to steer clear of girls like that. Not that it does much good. Seriously, he seems determined to, well, you know, get a hot girlfriend.”

  “And you’d never do that yourself? I mean, get a hot girlfriend?”

  “No way.” He looked intently at her. “That’s like asking for trouble.”

  “Why is that, exactly?”

  He smiled at her. “It’s just that girls like that—the ones who are so focused on their hair and their clothes and all that other outward stuff—tend to be shallow.”

  “Have you known quite a few girls like that?”

  “To be honest, only a few. But I picked up on the pattern after about the third one. Then I recommitted my heart to God and realized that I need to avoid girls like that. It might sound extreme, but they’re like poison to me.”

  “So is that how you treat that girl—what was her name?”

  “Chelsea? Yeah, I guess I do.” He frowned. “That probably sounds all wrong though.”

  “It seems a little cruel. What if Chelsea wasn’t the person you assumed she was? What if all this time you were treating her like poison, and she turned out to be just another ordinary girl, except that she had a pretty veneer, and you never even gave her a chance?”

  “When you put it that way, it does seem a little harsh.”

  She pointed at him. “What if people, particularly girls, treated you like that?”

  “What?”

  “You know, like if they held you at arm’s length because you were too good-looking. How would that make you feel?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Would you feel unfairly judged?”

  He seemed to be considering this.

  “What if I stood up right now and said, ‘Nicholas, you are just too handsome for me to be talking to you. So why don’t you go take a hike?’ ”

  He gave an uncomfortable smile. “I guess I might feel a little hurt by that.”

  “Is that the way Christians are supposed to treat each other? Make judgments like that? Keep each other at a distance?”

  He frowned. “You’re making some good points, Trina.”

  “Well, being a Christian is still new to me. I’d like to figure some of these things out. To be honest, some of the things I’m experiencing feel a little confusing.”

  “Probably because, like I said, Christians aren’t perfect.”

  “But some of them act like they are. Or maybe it’s just that some of them act like they’re superior to others.” She studied him.

  “That’s a fair observation.” He pressed his lips together. “I’m sure I act like that sometimes.”

  “Why?” she demanded.

  He looked thoughtful. “That’s a really good question, Trina. I think it’s kind of a balancing act. You know . . . like, as a Christian, I realize I belong to God. I’ve been adopted into his family. That makes me feel special. And maybe I lose sight of the fact that I’m a sinner just like everyone else. Maybe I get a little smug.”

  She just nodded.

  “I really like talking to you,” he said suddenly. “You’re making me think about some things in a new way. And it’s good.” He glanced at his watch as he stood. “But it’s about time for the meeting now. Are you going to come?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “Earlier I’d decided to spend the weekend in my room.”

  “Please don’t do that.” He reached for her hand. “Come on, Trina. Come to the meeting. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

  “Okay.” She stood. He was still holding her hand.

  “We better hurry.”

  To her surprise, he continued to hold her hand, swinging it as they walked. Her emotions were a wild mixture of guilt and pleasure, anxiety and hope.

  “I talked Trina into coming back,” he announced to Chase and some of the others. “I hope we can all try harder to make her welcome here.” He smiled at Janelle. “And you too, Brittany.”

  Nicholas sat down next to Chelsea, and she continued to feel a bunch of contrasting emotions. Part of her said to just go with it. Another part of her felt more like a hypocrite than ever. But she didn’t have long to think about these things because the band started to play, and the next thing she knew, they were all standing, singing, and clapping.

  By mid-afternoon on Saturday, both Janelle and Chelsea were thoroughly sick of their charade. Taking a break in their room, Janelle had her tired feet propped up on the bed. “I’ll admit it’s been a good lesson in human nature,” she said as she typed something into her laptop. She really was taking the experiment seriously. “But I’m tired of being a jerk magnet. It’s bad enough that Chase is making a complete fool of himself over me, but now there are a few other boys besides him. It’s really making me think less of some of these guys—some of the ones I used to respect.”

  “Is it possible that it’s due to their age?” Chelsea asked as she put up her feet. “My dad’s always going on about hormone-driven seventeen-year-old boys. He thinks they should all be locked up until they turn twenty-one.”

  “Does he honestly think they’ll improve by then?”

  “I don’t know. But maybe their emotional maturity will catch up with their testosterone by then.”

  Janelle laughed. “So how about Nicholas? I think he’s falling in love with Trina.”

  Chelsea shook her head. “I think he’s falling into like with Trina.”

  “Don’t be so sure. I’ve seen him looking at you. It’s like he’s enchanted.”

  Now Chelsea felt worried. “But if he knew who I really was . . . he might be enraged.”

  “Really?”

  “Nick has a problem with girls who are too pretty, as he says.”

  “He’s been nice to me.”

  “Because he’s trying.”

  “So what do you suppose is the root of his problem with hot babes?” Janelle peered over her computer screen.

  “He hasn’t gone into all the details, but I have a strong feeling he was overly involved with a hot babe.”

  Janelle’s neatly plucked brow creased. “Now that you mention it, I remember that he dated Vanessa Renaldo last year. It was only briefly, but after they broke up, Nicholas seemed different.”

  “What do you think happened?” Chelsea asked.

  “I’m not sure. I can’t even remember who broke up with who. Do you think the breakup had to do with sex?”

  Chelsea shrugged. Maybe she didn’t really want to know about that. But Janelle continued, speculating on Vanessa’s reputation and insinuating that Nicholas might’ve taken advantage of it.

  “You know, Janelle . . .” Chelsea went over to the mirror, peering at herself and wondering what it would feel like to re
main plain Jane, aka Trina, forever. “You’re passing judgments again.” Thanks to Trina’s dramatic departure from dinner on Friday, combined with Nicholas’s efforts, the whole idea of judging others had become a pretty hot topic among the kids at camp.

  Janelle sighed. “You’re right. I can’t believe I just said that. Forget about it, okay?”

  Chelsea took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I have an idea, Janelle.”

  “Huh?” Janelle looked up from her laptop.

  “Let’s come clean.”

  “Come clean?” Janelle pushed her laptop aside. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s confess to everyone what we’ve been doing.”

  “Are you kidding?” Janelle got to her feet and moved to the mirror, where she stared at her blonde bombshell image with a worried expression. “They’d probably stone us.”

  “They can’t stone us. In fact, they have to forgive us.”

  Janelle’s mouth twisted to one side. “That’s true. It’s a Christian camp, they’d have to forgive us. But why should we tell them the truth? Everything’s been going pretty smoothly. No one suspects a thing.”

  “But it’s not fun anymore,” Chelsea reminded her. “You said so.” The truth was it had never been much fun for Chelsea.

  “That’s true. I’m a little sick of Brittany, and these heels are killing me.”

  “So you agree? It’s time to drop the facade?”

  “Maybe. But if we do it, we have to do it right.”

  “Right?”

  Janelle nodded. “Yes, we need to make a point, to use what we’ve done to show these kids how shallow everyone can be.” She started clapping her hands. “I know! I know!”

  “What?”

  “We’ll do it like I told my mom. Like it was a skit.”

  “Huh?”

  “We’ll go talk to our counselors—to Raymond and Alice. We’ll confess the whole thing and ask if we can do something publicly to make a point.”

  “Do you honestly think they’d agree to something that crazy?”

  “They might. Come on. Let’s go find them.”

  They spotted Alice sitting in the sun with some of the other youth group girls. “We can’t just walk up and announce what’s going on,” Chelsea pointed out.