A Season of Firsts

Chapter 18 - Armour

Before December 31st

CLEO

It's Friday morning and I overslept after a late night.

"Mom's gonna kill you!" my little brother yells through the door.

"Cleo! You're going to be late for school." I hear the sound of my mom coming down the hallway.

"I'll be out in a minute, just hang on," I mumble, through the toothpaste and toothbrush in my mouth. I quickly put my hair up in a messy bun and then look into the bathroom mirror. I groan inwardly. It looks like a bird's nest, but I don't have time to change it now.

I finish brushing my teeth and grab my bag, exiting the bathroom in time to come face to face with mom. "Quickly! In the car," she orders.

We start down the passageway, my little brother and big brother on our heels. We half run to the garage and pile into the car. This is normal for my family, we're late for everything.
As we pull out, something catches my attention. It catches everyone's attention, how could it not? On the wall of our house is a huge eagle, spray painted in red and yellow.

"What in the world?" my mom mutters. "Graffiti? In Stowe? And on our house, too?"

I gulp. There's no doubt in my mind who did this. And it's obvious he wanted me to know it was him.

~ ~ ~

During lunch I read the bible to calm my mind. I know Daniel must be angry with me, the eagle was an obvious enough sign. Although it can probably be easily painted over, it still worries me that he'd do that to someone else's property. How much did living in Boston change him? Something tells me the answer is drastically.
I'm unsure of how I'll act around him now. Not that he's been near me much of late. I won't tell on him, because I don't think that will reach him. No, there's got to be another way I can make him let me in again.

I try to focus on what I'm reading instead of the noisy cafeteria surrounding me.

"For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes, for the Jew first and also for the Greek."
Romans 1:16.

Daniel once believed that the good news was true. With God's help and a lot of prayer, will I be able to help him believe that again? I want to see that light in his eyes once more.

Heavenly Father, I come before You and ask that You give me the words to say and guide all of my actions. I miss the Daniel that I know is still there. He's just hiding because of the hurt and pain of this world taking its toll on him. I know that You love him even more than I do and want him to be Yours again. Help me to be able to make a difference in his life for You-

-speak of the devil. I can't help that phrase popping into my mind in the middle of my thinking, even if it's no proper way to end a prayer, when Daniel plops down in the seat opposite me. I swallow.

Help me now, Lord.

Daniel frowns at my open bible. "Knew you were still into that garbage," he states, dismissively. I can tell it's on the tip of his tongue to call it something worse.

"It's not garbage," I say, firmly but calmly, even though inwardly I'm quivering with anger. "It's the Word of my Creator. And He's your Creator too."

He rolls his eyes sardonically. "Whatever."

Is that his new favourite word or something?

His expression changes from mocking to almost pleased when a slow, lazy smile creeps onto his face. I hate what it does to my stomach. Gosh, I've forgotten what a smile he has. Or maybe haven't. "Did you see the surprise I left you?" he asks.