Chapter 18

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Alexis
I hold his gaze for a terrifying, agonizing moment before I let my eyes drop.
“Hey,” he greets me anyway. “I’m Nate. Alexis?”
I nod. “Uh, yeah.”
He holds out his hand, and I take it, wishing desperately that my own would stop shaking. His handshake is firm, but in a gentle way, and it actually does still mine’s trembling.
“So…” He hesitates. “Uh, I just wanted to say…” And he glances at my arms, sadness flooding his gaze. He takes a deep breath. “I mean… I was wondering what your story is.”
I look up at him questioningly, so he continues. “I mean, I don’t know how much of my music you’ve heard, but even just in what I sang last night, you’ve heard a lot of my story. You know, with my mom and everything.”
I nod slowly.
“Yeah.”
“Right.” He offers me a bit of a sad smile. “So, what’s yours?” And he’s looking at my arms again.
I sigh. “The father I adored was thrown in jail for selling drugs instead of the ******* job I thought he had, my mother turned into an alcoholic and hasn’t been able to keep a job ever since, and the only person who’s been here for me through all of it died a week ago.”
Nate winces at my words. “Kid, that’s rough,” he murmurs.
I shrug. “It’s ******* life.”
He nods slowly. “Yeah. That’s what it seems like sometimes, doesn’t it?”
We’re both quiet again before I feel his gaze on my arms again.
“But, look,” he says gently, “hurting yourself isn’t the answer, okay, Alexis?”
I open my mouth to respond, but he’s faster.
“I mean, I get it, okay? I’ve used so many stupid methods of coping I couldn’t count them if I tried. But you honestly are worth so much more than that.”
“I’m not worth anything,” I say quietly. “I know you people believe in some Man in the sky that made me ******* priceless or whatever, but I don’t. And without that fairytale, I really am worthless, now aren’t I?”
Nate sighs. “Well… maybe. But I just… Alexis, where do you get your hope?”
I let out a harsh laugh. “I have no hope.”
He nods. “But wouldn’t you like to have some? Wouldn’t you like to believe that life is going to be more than the pain heaped on you now? I know without God, I’d be an even bigger mess than I already am.”
I just shake my head. “That ******* stuff isn’t for me.”
“Okay,” he replies. His tone sounds disappointed, but unsurprised. “but if you ever change you mind, any of us here are ready to talk about it. And just know that I’ve definitely felt what you’re feeling. You’re not alone.”
And he gets up and returns to where Cole’s sitting.
I stare after him for a long moment before I feel Colton’s gentle touch on my arm.
“So,” he says softy. “how’d we do?”
I shake my head slowly. “I just don’t get it.”
“What about it?”
I sigh. “How could a bunch of religious freaks who judge me the minute they lay eyes on me embrace all of you as celebrities if you’ve ever been even close to where I’m at?”
Colton considers the question for a long moment. “Well,” he says finally, “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never understood that either. I want you to know first off that they’re not all like that. But second, for those who are, I think… I think it’s because you remind them too much of them.”
“What?”
He nods slowly. “I mean, people who acted perfect… who judged what they deemed as sinners…”
“Like me,” I say dully.
“Well, yes,” Colton admits. “Just like you. The people who judged people like you when Jesus was on earth… the religious leaders who thought they were clean… Jesus had more issues with them than any other group. He could see their hearts, which were, in reality, at least as dirty as those of the “sinners”, and He couldn’t stand the way they judged the others. You know,” he adds gently, “As for the people like you, Jesus was always hanging out with them. He loved them. They were the reason He came, for those who needed a Savior.”
“But, doesn’t that contradict what you just said?” I challenge. “I mean, if that was true, then the religious ones were sinners too.”
He nods patiently. “They absolutely were. But Jesus used the example of a doctor, with sin being sickness, okay? He said only the sick needed a doctor, just like only sinners need a Savior. But He wasn’t saying the Pharisees…”
I raise an eyebrow, and he clarifies.
“The religious leaders. He wasn’t saying they weren’t sick. But they didn’t think they were. I mean, say someone is sick, but he doesn’t think he’s sick. Maybe he a friend who can see it, and that friend makes him go to the doctor. The doctor sees it and gives him some medicine to take. But if this guy is so convinced that he’s not sick, is he gonna take the medicine?”
I hesitate. “Probably not.”
“Right,” Colton confirms. “He’ll think it’s a waste of time. But if someone knows he’s sick, he’ll be grateful for the medicine and take it readily, right? He wants to get better.”
“I guess so,” I mutter back.
“Well, it’s the same way with Jesus,” he continues. “Some people don’t think they’re sick. They believe in God, they believe in Jesus, but they don’t really accept their need for a Savior. They’ve blinded themselves to their own dirtiness- their own sickness. So when Jesus offers them His medicine, they’re not gonna take it. Instead, they’re gonna try to shove it on a bunch of people like you. Except, they don’t do it the way Jesus does it.”
I let my head drop to my hands. This isn’t helping the headache.
“How’s that?” I ask finally.
“Well,” Colton replies steadily, “they say that you have to clean yourself up before you come to them. Like, they want to shove the medicine down your throat before you’ve set foot inside the doctor’s office. But if you haven’t met the doctor, there’s no reason you should trust his medicine, is there?”
I shake my head. “******* no.”
“But that’s not the way Jesus wants it to work.” I have to admit the passion in his tone is impressive. “When He was on earth, He didn’t make people believe in Him before He fellowshipped with them. Instead, He spent time with them. They ate together and talked together. He showed them the miracles He could do. And then, when they knew and trusted the Doctor, He offered them medicine.”
This makes way more sense than all of these ******* fairytales should.
“He still wants it to be that way,” Colton continues. “He’s saying, “Come to Me, no matter who you are, no matter what you’ve done. I know all that, and I want you anyway. I love you. I’ll show you why you can trust Me. So just come!” And then, after you’ve come, He’ll prove himself to and offer you His medicine.”
I shake my head. “But there’s no way you could get to know Him know even if all of that **** was true. I mean, He’s gone now.”
“But that’s why we’re here,” he replies excitedly. “That’s why I want so badly to be a messenger. Because we are here to represent Jesus, give you a taste of Him, and help you get to know Him personally. That’s also why it makes me so sick the treatment that you’ve obviously gotten from Christians in the past. Because if they were judging you, they certainly were not introducing you to Jesus.”
I swear under my breath. This is all just so ******* stupid.
“Even if He was real,” I say quietly after a long moment, “I wouldn’t want to get to know Him. Not after everything He would have put me through.” I stand abruptly as I finish, because everyone else seems to be getting ready to head down the mountain. “Even if He was real,” I add, “there would be no way He could love me. If He did, I think I would have had a whole lot of a better life.”
Colton opens his mouth, but I stride away to avoid his answer.
Except, the first step I take, my vision clouds, I sway on my feet, and everything goes black.

A/N: So, sorry it's been several days. I was basically running my 4-H Club during Carnival this weekend, so I was pretty busy. Worst day of the year, btw. Anyway, sorry, but here it is. :)

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