Tip 5: Don't Call The Dork Your Friend
"Kayla Anne Rachel Marie Adams, would you get down here?" shouted my mother for what seemed like the millionth time. "We are going to be late!"
"Coming Mom!" I yelled back, slipping my feet into an admittedly cute pair of black pumps and rushing down the stairs, where my father awaited me.
"Are you finally done?" asked Dad, looking amused. I huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair from my forehead.
"I guess so."
"Thank the Lord. Now hurry and get into the car." I obeyed, and hurriedly headed for the car, where Mikayla was already seated, listening to music on her phone.
"Shove over," I said, nudging her with my elbow. She made a face at me, but slid to the right a little.
"You take forever to get ready," she said. "And the end result's not even worth the trouble."
I scowled at her, and was about to reply when Mom got into the car, looking frazzled. My little sister smiled, as if celebrating her victory, but it was short-lived.
"Mikayla, would you please turn that down?" asked Mum, irritably, after a minute of hearing Britt Nicole and Le Crae's Ready or Not blasting full volume from Mikayla's phone in the otherwise silent car.
"But my earphones are missing, and you promised to buy me new ones a week ago!" she whined.
"Then turn it off," said Mom, a note of finality ringing clear in her voice.
"Fine, I'll lower the volume," mumbled Mikayla. Mom leaned her head against the headrest. "Why is it so hard to get you all ready for church?"
"Don't worry," said Dad, as he climbed into the front seat. "They'll be out of our hair soon enough." He gave her a peck on the cheek.
"Ew," squealed Mikayla, covering her eyes. "That's like, so gross!"
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, grow up!"
She stuck her tongue out at me, and returned to her phone. Sighing, I turned and looked out of the window at the clear, blue sky, my mind drifting back to the conversation I had had with Brett-at the break of dawn.
The boy had somehow gotten hold of my number and was more irritating than the Black Plague. In as much I wished I could ignore his calls, he still had that über embarrassing e-diary, which I had no idea how to get back.
Dad parked in the church's parking lot. We all got down, squinting in the bright sunlight, even though it was barely eight thirty.
"Joseph!" boomed a voice, and my larger- than-life teen pastor, Fred Johnson, also known as my Physics teacher, gave my dad a hearty handshake before giving my mom a huge hug and ruffling Mikayla's hair, after which she scowled, trying to fix it up again. I sniggered, knowing how long she had spent working on her hair.
"Fred!" smiled Dad weakly, flexing his fingers, and trying not to wince in pain. It wasn't going too well.
"How's life treating y'all?" he asked, his Southern drawl making an appearance. All that was missing was a cowboy hat and boots.
"We're all right. You?"
"Oh, I'm good, by His grace," he smiled, and turned to me. "Hope you're all geared up for today's debate."
"Oh...the debate? Erm....yeah! Sure am!" I was not. Between the trauma of Val's impromptu shopping trip, and successive events, as well as the homework teachers had piled on us, I hadn't even put a word on paper. And I was the principal speaker.
I was so dead.
Someone shouted Mr Johnson's name, and he waved us, before heading in the direction of the voice. We all headed for our respective groups: Mom and Dad to the main building, Mikayla to the class for kids from ages nine to twelve and me to the teens group.
"Kay!" called out Lucy. She was short, with frizzy brown hair and braces that glittered when she grinned. Lucy was roughly a year younger than I was. Val and Oliver were down with the flu, so they hadn't been able to come.
"Hey, Luce, how's it going?" I sat on the seat next to hers.
"Little bit of this, little bit of that," she said vaguely, shrugging. "But that's not why I called you here. I just want to know-is it true that you're dating Brett Hollister?"
I almost choked on my own spit. "W-what?"
Her wide grin fell. "Isn't it true? I just thought..."
"Thought what?" I sounded rude, but I also desperately needed to find out what the Cadbury she was talking about.
"Well, there was the mall incident--"
"Wait, how do you know about the mall incident?"
She looked at me as though I had just stepped off another planet-which I might as well have. "Haven't you seen the video?"
My heart started beating erratically. Although there had been quite a few people around, I'd never thought anyone would actually make a video. I tried my best to calm down. "Could you show it to me? Please?"
"Sure," smiled Lucy, pulling out her bedazzled I-phone. The video started from the moment the drink left Brett's hand. The person must have had a premonition that something would happen, or very quick reflexes.
The two minute video depicted me at very unflattering angles, and ended with Val dragging me away from the smirking Brett. The words 'ISN'T SHE A KLUTZ?' were boldly printed on the very last scene. I looked terrible.
"It's gone viral," said Lucy.
"So I see," I said grimly, glancing at the steadily rising number of viewers. "Do you know who made it?" She shook her head.
"Thanks anyway. BTW, Brett and I are not dating."
I saw a glimmer of doubt in her eyes, but before I could speak and crush it like a bug, Mr Johnson entered.
"Good morning, everyone!" he hollered, making his presence known like nobody else could. "How y'all doing?"
"We're blessed and highly favoured!" we responded.
"Good to hear. Now everyone up, it's Prayer Time."
We all got up, and a couple of teens started to lead praise and worship.
There is none like You
No one else can touch
My heart like You do
And I could search for all eternity Lord
And find, that there is none like You.
As I listened to the lyrics and sang along, my heart lightened. It was as though all burdens had been lifted off my chest. Now it was just the Lord and me.
"Just begin to thank the Lord for all His goodness, and His love," I heard Mr Johnson say. "His grace has been more than sufficient for us. He's loved us with an unfailing love. Romans 6:23 tells us that the wages of sin is death. We all deserve to die. But God so loved the world that He gave to us His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life."
And so it continued. After Prayer Time, my friend Noah and his band, Worshippers, sang If We Are The Body by Casting Crowns.
"Welcome everyone," said Mr Johnson. "I'm so glad that God has brought us to the beginning of another week, and given us the opportunity to fellowship. Today however, we have a new friend coming to worship with us."
I looked around the room, but didn't see anybody that I didn't already recognise.
"You know him, you love him-well, most of you, anyway," continued my Physics teacher dramatically. "Ladies and gents, let's give a resounding round of applause for the one, the only, Brett Hollister!"
All color drained from my face as the aforementioned boy stepped into the room, which was dead silent.
"Ahem," coughed Mr Johnson, not-so-discreetly, and the room burst into applause. Even though most people here went to the local public school, everybody had heard of Brett Hollister it seemed. I was too shell-shocked to speak. Brett Hollister at church? I would never have thought it possible.
"Hey," he grinned to everyone, and it seemed as though half of the girls giggled mindlessly. He looked around the room for a seat, and then locked eyes with me.
Uh-oh.
"Hey there," he said to Lucy, as he sidled up to us. The poor girl's eyes were so wide they looked like they'd pop out any second.
"H-h-hey," stammered Lucy, trying-and failing-to sound casual.
"Could I, er, please take your seat? I kinda want to sit next to my...friend."
Friend? Friend?! Brett Hollister and Kayla Adams were not 'friends!'
"S-sure," breathed Lucy, looking flustered. Brett had really turned on the charm. She hurriedly packed her little handbag and took a seat nearer to the front, looking back a couple of times as she did so. Brett slid into her seat. So much for convincing Lucy that I had absolutely no connection to him whatsoever.
"Since we have a newcomer today, we'll postpone the debate," said Mr Johnson, and all eyes shifted from Brett and me to him.
Hallelujah!
"But," he continued, "We will have a discussion. The topic is God's love. Do you really think He loves you? Remember to back up whatever you say with as many Scripture verses as you can."
I was about to answer when the boy beside me scoffed and said, "Of course not."
Once again, all eyes turned to him.
"Is that so, Brett?" asked Mr Johnson. "Care to tell us why?"
"If God really existed, and if He really loved us, why allow all this pain and suffering? All this hurt, all this anger, all this war?"
I raised my hand, badly wanting to refute his point. Mr Johnson called on me.
"The Bible tells us that He loves us time and time again. In 1st John 4:8-10, and 16. It also talks about His love in John 3:16. Christ never promised to take pain and suffering away, He just promised to see us through."
"Really?" said Brett, lifting a quizzical eyebrow. "Is this the same God who sends people to hell for all eternity? The same God who condemns people to burn forever? Because that just doesn't scream 'loving' to me."
John, another boy in the class stood.
"Hell is actually a choice. Heaven is a choice too. Those who go to hell are those who persistently refuse to listen to the Gospel, and don't believe that Christ died for us all." I nodded in agreement, but Brett still shook his head.
"Alright then. If God is real, and if He really loves us, then why do good people die, whilst evil lives on? Why do the righteous suffer, and the wicked prosper?"
I smiled, and opened my well-worn Bible to Psalm 73. "Brett, read this. Let's all read this psalm. Psalm 73."
There was a rustle of paper as everyone flipped their Bibles there. We all read in silence, and when the last person was done, I continued speaking.
"God doesn't allow wickedness. He knows exactly what He's doing. The destination of the wicked is death and destruction, but the people of God have eternal life." ¨
Brett scowled, dropping my Bible back onto my seat. "Why do guys even believe in this? This book is full of empty promises."
He turned and stalked out of the room.
There was silence for a second, the Mr Johnson said, "Y'all continue with the discussion. I'm going out to see Brett."
When he left, everyone sat down and stared at one another. Then Noah spoke.
"You guys, I don't think what just happened should leave this room."
"What?" asked Lucy.
"I mean, no one should hear about this. It's pretty obvious that Brett's confused right now, and looking for answers, and if anyone hears about this they'll definitely make fun of him. And any chance of him getting to know the truth will die."
"Yeah," said Leanne, another girl there. "I, for one, know that Emerson High School students are not the most mature people in the world, as much as they like to convince others otherwise."
"So--"
Noah was interrupted when Mr Johnson stuck his head in through the door.
"Kayla? Could you please step out here for a moment?"
"Who, me?" I asked, pointing at myself.
"Yes, you Kayla." As I stood, I heard some people whisper, "Brett's girlfriend." I threw up a little in my mouth. Ew!
My Johnson led me outside, where Brett was seated on the low wall just in front of the church vegetable garden. The wind tousled his light blonde hair.
"He doesn't want to talk to me. I was wondering since you're his friend and all--"
"We're not friends. I'm just his tutor. And not even by choice." I added the last part under my breath.
"Right. Well, as his tutor, could you please talk to him, and find out what's wrong?"
"But why me?" I whined.
Mr Johnson frowned. "Kayla do you remember Philippians 2:14?"
"Yeah, of course, I-oh."
"Exactly."
"Alright, I'll do it." I tiptoed over to the place Brett sat, until I stood right behind him. Looking back, I saw that Mr Johnson had disappeared, and let out an audible sigh.
"What do you want, Kayla?" asked Brett, without looking at me.
"I just-I came-Brett, what's wrong?" I moved to stand in front of me, and was shocked to see tears sliding down his cheeks.
"Alrighty then," I said, taking a seat beside him. "I'm just going to sit here until you're ready to talk."
For about five minutes, I stared at the sky in silence. Then he spoke.
"Why were you saying all that stuff about God loving us?" he asked.
"'Cause he does," I answered simply.
"But why? Why do you think He loves us?" he insisted.
I thought for a while. "I'm not perfect. I have flaws, just like everyone else. Nobody can love me completely, selflessly. There's always going to be a part that insists on self-preservation. Yet God literally gave His life for me. On that cross, He was a prostitute, a thief, a liar, a murderer and everything else. I wonder sometimes that if I was the only sinner left, would He still have allowed Himself to be crucified for me. And the answer is always yes; because every single drop of blood on that cross was for me. Every. Single. One. What love could possibly be stronger than that?"
He was silent again. "Kayla, what exactly is love to you?"
My mind went to 1st Corinthians 13. "Love is patient, caring and kind. Love keeps no record of sins. Love is not selfish. Love is eternal. The Bible says in John 15:13 Greater love has no man than this that he lay down his life for his friends. Jesus did just that. So, I guess to me, Jesus is love."
He smiled. "You sound just like my mom. She always told me that if Jesus could love those who nailed him to the cross, then I could love the kids at school who bullied me.
"Mom was a Christian, a really good one. Sometimes I wondered if she loved God more than she loved me. She did everything right, lived exactly as a Christian should."
His face darkened, and he kicked a stone as he swung his sneaker clad feet.
"God killed her, Kayla! She believed in Him, did everything He asked, yet she was raped, strangled, and left in a dumpster to rot! What kind of God allows His servant to die that way? Why would He..."
He trailed off, and the tears fell down his cheeks even faster. My heart hurt for him. Although Val had told me his mom was dead, I had no idea she had been murdered so brutally. So I did the first thing I could think of.
I hugged him.
Since he was more than a head taller than me, it was very awkward, but I patted his back until he stopped sniffling.
"You know something?" he asked, stretching to his full height.
"What?"
He smirked. "If I had known that all I had to do to get a hug was squeeze out a few tears, I would have cried you a river a long time ago-ouch!"
I kicked his shin.
"Ouch!" he yelped again, clutching his injured appendage, and hopping around.
"Serves you right," I said, but I couldn't help but smile. Maybe-just maybe-Brett wasn't so bad after all.
It's been too long! How you all doing? Thank you so much for pushing this book to 799th in Humor!!!! Eeep!!!!
The video is If We Are The Body by Casting Crowns.