Don't Kiss Him Good-Bye

by Sandra Byrd

  “Mum can help me pick out some accessories too,” Penny said. “I know she was looking forward to shopping together.”

  On the way out of the shop, Becky caught my arm. “Thanks for bringing in a friend, Savvy. Every little bit helps.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said. Penny headed out ahead of me, and before I walked out the door, I glanced back one last time at the Faerie dress.

  Chapter 24

  We sat at the dinner table with Penny’s mother, father, and older brother. Her oldest brother was away at university.

  “Tell us a bit about your family and how you got to London,” Mrs. Barrowman said.

  I shared about my dad’s job and how he’d been offered a chance to move here for at least a few years, maybe for good, and that we’d decided as a family it would be a fun adventure.

  “And has it?” Penny’s brother asked.

  “Mostly,” I said. “I’m starting to feel like I really fit in here.”

  “Welcome home,” her dad said kindly.

  “Her mum likes to garden.” Penny turned toward her mother. “Just like you!”

  “Well, then,” Mrs. Barrowman said, “perhaps she’d like to come on the second . . . ?”

  I saw Penny catch her mother’s eye and shake her head ever so slightly. Mrs. Barrowman let her voice drop and then picked up another topic. “Pudding, anyone?” She stood to clear the dishes. I knew pudding meant all desserts. There was a general murmur of approval. Penny got up to help her mother clear the dishes but indicated that I should stay in my seat.

  “You’re a guest,” she said. I had the feeling, though, that she wanted to talk with her mom in private, in the kitchen.

  I sat there, a bit deflated. Had her mother just been about to invite my mom to a gardening event, something my mom would love? It sure seemed like it. So why had Penny shushed her?

  I made it through the pudding with a smile fixed to my face, but I was pretty eager to get home. Her dad drove me, and Penny and I made small talk, but I ended up thinking that maybe I had used the wrong fork or something. Or maybe it was my fancy dress mistake.

  Did Penny think my mom wouldn’t fit in with her mom’s upper-class friends?

  Did I know Penny as well as I thought I did?

  Chapter 25

  That night at home, I had to sort through all the potential Asking for Trouble questions. Because they were mostly written by teenage girls, and because I was a teenage girl, I related to most of them. Pretty much every week, though, after praying about it, I figured out which one I was supposed to answer. Then I went to the Source for the answer and wrote it up in my own style. Even though I couldn’t actually tell my readers that my answers were from Scripture, I knew I was feeding them good things.

  “Fear of the Lord is the foundation of true wisdom. All who obey his commandments will grow in wisdom,” I thought. “Psalm 111:10,” I said aloud, thankful for the Bible memory program I’d attended as a kid.

  I sorted through the questions, and one struck my heart. Not only because I knew it was important to a lot of girls, but also because it was important to me right that very day. If I wrote this advice out and then didn’t follow it myself, I would be a hypocrite. Besides, it was the right thing to do. I prayed about it, searched through my online Bible program, and composed the answer. Then I e-mailed it to Jack and gave myself till Friday to follow my own advice.

  By Thursday, when I delivered the papers, I still hadn’t done it. I didn’t have time to read the column before maths, so after Gwennie and Jill and I had finished growing bacteria cultures in science, I sat down and read it.

  Dear Asking for Trouble,

  I have a problem I hope you can help me with. I’m worried that my best friend has been talking about me behind my back. I never would have guessed it—she’s so honest! And trustworthy! Or so I thought. But I heard something through another friend that I think could have only come from one source: my best friend. What should I do? If I accuse her and I’m wrong, she’s going to be mad—and rightly so. But if she’s telling tales and spreading my secrets, I should know before I tell her anything else. Right? Help!

  Sincerely,

  Loose Lips Sink Friendships

  Dear Loose Lips,

  When you decide that someone is your best friend, you’ve decided to entrust a lot of your heart, your mind, and your hopes to them. Not to mention your I’ll-die-if-anyone-else-knows secrets. So if you have any doubts at all about your friend’s trustworthiness, you need to have a chat with her. Now don’t go accusing her of anything. (See your letter above!) Just take her aside privately, one-on-one, and tell her what you heard. Ask if you might have misunderstood something, and be humble—see what she says. Nine times out of ten it’s a simple misunderstanding, and you’ll be closer than ever. Of course, if it’s the other one time out of ten, then you have to be brave enough to kindly say au revoir, adios, sayonara, or however you like to politely say good-bye.

  Sincerely,

  We’re All in the Same Boat

  At lunch I asked Penny if we could walk in the courtyard and talk.

  Once we were out there, she asked, “What’s up?”

  “Well, I know this is the dumbest thing ever, and I’m an insecure bowl of jelly, but I was just wondering about something. You know when your mom was ready to ask about my mom and some gardening thing, the other night at dinner?”

  Penny nodded.

  “Well, I was just wondering. Are we not, you know, high class enough for you?”

  Penny looked at me as if I’d just swallowed a live bug and asked for another with a splash of soy sauce. “Pardon?”

  “I was just wondering why you stopped her, was all.” I hung my head.

  Penny grabbed my arm and sat me down on one of the benches. “Even though some others might feel differently, I don’t think, in any way, that I am any better than you—or that my family is either. The party my mum was going to bring up is for the day after the May Day Ball. Traditionally, all my friends and their mums go over to one of the gardens—Ashley’s house was last year—and the girls serve tea and cakes to the mums while they look at the newest blooms and plan garden meetings for the year. Members are allowed to nominate new people for membership, and voting happens in May.”

  “Oh,” I said, still not getting why my mom couldn’t be invited.

  “Everyone wears their May Day Ball gown from the night before,” Penny said. “It’s a way for the mums to ooh and aah over everyone’s dress. If you still want to come, you could wear something nice . . .”

  Now I got it. “No, it’d feel kind of awkward,” I said.

  “I thought so,” Penny said. She squeezed my arm as we got up. “You’re a fantastic friend, Savvy. I’m so glad you moved here. I’d never leave you out if I thought it would hurt you.”

  And with that, we headed back to lunch. Silently, I prayed that whoever had written to the Asking for Trouble column had had as good of an outcome with her friend.

  As I was leaving the lunchroom, Rhys was coming in. “Just who I wanted to see,” he said. “Did you have your April Fools thing yet?”

  “Next week,” I said. “On the day before April Fools’.”

  “Text me when and where.” He took my hand like he owned it and then wrote his name on it in ink. “To remind you.” Right before I pulled my hand away, a crush of new people headed into the lunchroom. I’d recognize Chloe’s laugh anywhere. Tommy’s, too. Tommy and I locked eyes, only for a minute. Rhys looked at him too before making a show of closing his hand around my own.

  Chapter 26

  Even though I’d spent the last week being a nervous Nellie, on the actual day itself, March 31, I wasn’t as worried as I’d thought I would be. Surprisingly, Mom had let me stay home from school to practice—and to pray—and I felt more at peace than I had for a while. Mom was going to a book club meeting with our next-door neighbor Vivienne, so she was going to have to drop me off at church a little early. I’d called Jenny, and she’d
promised it would be okay. I could hang out in the youth room and practice and do homework till everyone else arrived.

  Outfit? Skinny jeans; blue tank top with countryish blue, green, and black checked overshirt; new UGGs; silver hoop earrings—not too big an O.

  About an hour before we were going to leave, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it with one hand and held my guitar in the other. “Hello,” I said politely.

  Vivienne eyed my guitar. From her look, I suspected she’d been listening to me practice all day. She wasn’t a fan, but I couldn’t help it. I’d tried to keep it low. “This is for your mum,” she said, handing over a canvas tote bag with that evening’s books. “Tell her we’ll have to leave promptly.”

  With another withering look at the guitar, she waved toodle-loo and headed back toward her house. I have to admit, my confidence wavered, but only for a moment.

  “Ready to go, Sav?” Mom asked. “And are you sure Dad can’t come by tonight to listen? I could even skip the book club if you want me to. And Louanne could come.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Only youth group people allowed. Otherwise we wouldn’t be willing to be fools,” I said. And it was true. I really didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of my parents and Louanne. It should have been just the opposite—they loved me the most and would judge me the least if I failed. But their opinion also mattered the most, and I wanted to be just right in their eyes.

  The ride there was silent. Maybe I was more nervous than I’d thought.

  “Rhys said he might come,” I finally said.

  “Oh,” Mom replied.

  “Aren’t you excited that he could come and hear the gospel?”

  “I’m happy anytime someone hears the gospel,” she nonanswered.

  “How can you not like him? You don’t even know him!”

  “Mother’s intuition, Savvy,” she said. “And the effect he has on you.”

  “What effect? You’re imagining things.” As soon as I said the words, I realized how uncharacteristic they were of me. And harsh. “Sorry,” I said. But I didn’t look at her.

  She pulled in front of the church and took my hand in hers. “Lord, I pray that You’ll be with Savvy tonight. Steady her hands and her voice, and help her to remember every note she’s so faithfully practiced. Bless her as she seeks to bless others in Your name. Amen.”

  “Thank you, Mom.” I got out of the car and opened the back door, taking my guitar and my WA Times notebook. I’d brought some homework and next week’s AFT questions to work on while I waited for the others to arrive for practice.

  I lugged it all into the back of the youth room, set down my guitar, and spread out my notebook and papers on a small desk near the back. I would work on the Asking for Trouble questions first—looking up the answers at church seemed like a good idea. Then homework. I started reading through the questions and then noticed that the donation boxes were already set up nearby.

  That first night, before Joe had asked me if I’d like to participate, I’d promised Supriya that I’d donate my funds to her, and I meant to keep that promise. But so it wouldn’t look funny, maybe I’d just put them in now, before anyone else came. I stood up and took my three bills—two ten-pound notes and a five-pound note—and slipped them into her box.

  Please help Be@titude some way too, Lord, I prayed. I actually did want to win, but I didn’t want to say that, even in my prayer. When I turned around, people were filtering into the room. I headed back to the desk, scooped up the papers, and set them with my open notebook in an untidy heap on the floor underneath my box.

  I grabbed my guitar and looked at the clock. It was almost time.

  Chapter 27

  “So is everyone ready, then?” Joe gathered us all into a small room off the main youth area. I could smell the coffee brewing on the barista cart, but I didn’t dare have any caffeine before playing. Didn’t want my hands or my voice to shake.

  “I’m ready,” a kid named Jacob said. He could juggle up to seven balls at once and was going on first to get everyone pumped up.

  We prayed together and then filtered to the back of the room so we’d be able to enjoy watching the other performances while waiting to do our own thing. Juggling Jacob went first and, as promised, got everyone worked up and hooting and clapping. I watched him and clapped, but I had to admit that I had at least one eye on the door most of the time.

  “Who are you looking for?” Supriya asked.

  I shook my head and whispered, “I’ll tell you later.” Part of me hoped that Rhys would come because it’d be good for him to hear the message at the end and also to get a better picture of the Christians he liked to put down.

  Next up was a group of guys lip-synching. Then someone played a piano song to chill everyone out before a few slower acts came on.

  Just as Supriya was about to take the stage and recite in her beautiful, exotic-sounding Hindi, I glanced back at the door.

  “He’s here,” Supriya whispered.

  He was here all right. But it wasn’t the he I’d expected.

  It was Tommy. Oh no!

  I looked away so I wouldn’t have to catch his eye as he made his way through the crowd toward his friends. I tried really hard to listen to Supriya’s poem, I really did, but it was hard to focus. I asked the Lord to calm my shaking hands. And then it was my turn to go on stage.

  Chapter 28

  Joe introduced me from the stage and asked me to tell a little bit about my charity.

  “I chose Be@titude.” My voice was shaky at first, but it smoothed out as I warmed up to the topic. “The shop is in Wexburg, where I—where some of us in this church—are from.” At that I involuntarily glanced at Tommy. “Anyway, she’s trying to help single mothers get back to work at something they enjoy so they can support their families. The Lord has always been about helping those who need it, and I thought it’d be a good ministry to support.”

  I took just a second to tune my guitar. “Anyway, here’s my song. It’s by an American singer and songwriter, Taylor Swift. I think it’s cool that she’s not much older than me and writes her own music. She writes about things we can relate to.” I kept my voice very even here, betraying nothing, I hoped.

  “The song has a number of different meanings for me. I hope you enjoy it.”

  I started to play and sing, and I lost myself in the words—and the double entendre known, I hoped, only to the Lord and to me.

  I didn’t snap out of the zone till I sang the very last words in the song:

  “Have you ever thought just maybe

  You belong with me.”

  The crowd applauded loudly, and I heard one whistle. I smiled and bowed and met Supriya’s supportive gaze. Then I headed off the stage, guitar in hand, to the back room.

  Chapter 29

  Sunday morning I sat in church, trying to focus on the words the pastor was speaking from 2 Corinthians and not be distracted by the kid in front of me who was picking his ear and then eating the harvest. In order to keep my mind off him, I started to doodle on the back of my bulletin. I was nothing like Penny in drawing, I knew. But it kept my mind busy.

  “So what does the Lord mean when He says, ‘Do not be yoked together with unbelievers’?” Pastor said. “No sharing eggs with heathens?” We all laughed.

  “Does that mean we shouldn’t have friends who are not Christians? By no means. We are to show God’s love to those who do not understand it, to invite them into an understanding, to do good deeds for them so that our Father may be glorified. Jesus showed us the way. He befriended many, but those with whom He shared His heart—His closest friends—were believers.”

  Pastor coughed a little and took a drink of water before continuing. The kid ahead of me had fallen asleep and was now leaning on his mom’s shoulder, so it was safe for me to look up again as Pastor finished talking. “According to this passage, we do not unite that which is sacred with something that is not. Your heart, your body as the temple of the Holy Spirit, your soul
, your work and ministries—all are sacred.”

  As he was asking us to bow our heads again and pray, I looked down at my drawing. My sumo cows didn’t look like they had a yoke on them. Rather, one looked like it was strangling the other.

  After the service, I grabbed a coffee before heading to the youth group room. Supriya was hanging in the coffee lounge too. On the way to Sunday school, I asked her, “So what did you think of the sermon?”

  “It was good. You?”

  I nodded. “Back in the States our youth pastor had talked about not dating non-Christians. It’s funny that in a way he was basically saying the same thing here too.” I crunched my coffee cup and made a perfect rimmer into a nearby garbage can. Supriya laughed.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  “You,” she teased. “Of course the pastor is going to say the same thing here, Sav. The Bible is the same here as it is there. It’s the same everywhere.”

  I blushed a little—thinkpink—admitting with my coloring that I’d just had a duh moment.

  The crowd in Sunday school was really thick, and we pretty much stayed close to the door rather than pushing our way through the pack. I closed my eyes, mostly, during worship. I did notice one time when I opened them that Tommy was there lifting his hands in praise.

  He belongs to someone else, Sav, I reminded myself. Just like Jack and Melissa and Brian and Hazelle. I’m a girl with ethics. Move on.

  Chapter 30

  Later that night Louanne was still moping around. She’d been faithfully collecting my copies of the Wexburg Academy Times, and I was starting to worry that she was developing a hoarding disorder.