“Hmmm. I don’t know what to think about you these days, Kathy.”
“What do you mean?”
Mom raised her eyebrow. “I haven’t seen your friends around in weeks. You keep yourself locked in your room for hours at a time, yet when the family’s around, I haven’t had to drag you out to say hello. In fact, you’ve been unusually pleasant to everyone lately, especially to Sam. Mind you, I’m not complaining, but I have noticed. Everyone has. And now, this Jason West—the mere fact that you decided to resume tutoring him concerns me.”
I could feel every defensive nerve in my body twitching. “I see Mistie and Crystal at school every day! And I do have my own studying to do in the evenings, and crazy as it may sound, I do like some peace and quiet while I do my homework. Most parents would be thrilled to see all their kids getting along instead of getting suspicious over it.” I stopped for a breath before finishing my indignant speech. “And as for Jason, I’m just finishing what I agreed to do, Mom. It’s no big deal. So don’t make it one, okay?”
But Mom wasn’t about to give up. “I worry about you helping a football player. I don’t know—there must be other students who could help him—”
“Other students didn’t agree to tutor him. I did.” Unfortunately for Mom, I didn’t give up easily, either.
Mom continued to frown. “I just worry that he spends your tutoring time trying to indoctrinate you with Mormonism and upsetting you instead of letting you tutor him.”
I shook my head incredulously. “What? Indoctrinating? Upsetting me? Mom, please—”
“Don’t ‘Mom, please’ me. I know how Mormon kids can be!”
I sat up straight in my stool and stared at her angry face. “You do?”
“Yes, I do.” Mom wouldn’t say more than that but turned away from me to stare past the kitchen wall. I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t offer anything else.
“Mom, Jason’s not forcing his religion on me. Really. Besides—give me a little credit. He doesn’t do or say anything I can’t deal with. I can hold my own just fine.”
Mom whirled around to face me again. “So he is talking about his religion with you!”
Exasperating. Absolutely. I wasn’t going to talk about this. Not when Mom was obviously going to be negative about everything. “So what else about me is bothering you?” I said stonily, matching her glare for glare.
Mom sighed and took a step back. “All right, fine. I give up.” We were both quiet for a moment before Mom came around the counter to sit on a bar stool beside me. “Actually, there is something else I’ve wanted to talk about with you, Kathy.”
I looked up at Mom suspiciously. “What?”
“I’ve seen you looking at Brett’s pictures in the living room nearly every day.” Mom reached out with her hand and smoothed my hair. She looked into my eyes, and although I looked back, I didn’t speak. We both jumped when the phone rang.
Mom sighed and reached for the phone. “Oh, hello, June.” One of Mom’s friends. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until it came out in a rush while I made my getaway, escaping to my room as fast as I could.
~
October 21
Dear Kitty,
Well, it’s official. I’ve got some hellish flu that’s ripped me apart all night and all morning. Mom’s already laid down the law against me going to the dance. Besides the fact that it would probably kill me to get out of this bed even if I could get up, I’d run the risk of getting Jennifer sick, so when Kelly showed up at noon, I wasn’t in the greatest of moods. Being sick is bad enough, but trying to figure out a way to tell Jennifer I wasn’t going to be able to take her to the dance was worse than having ten flus at once, believe me.
By the time Kelly came over, Mom had already told him I was sick with the flu, so he ignored all of my snotty, depressing comments. Of course, Kelly wasn’t thinking about the dance. He didn’t have a date. I have no idea why he didn’t ask anybody. I know he wouldn’t have a problem getting someone to go with him. I think we were both relieved to hear a soft knock on my bedroom door. Kelly’s one-sided conversation was getting pretty stale.
I couldn’t believe it when I heard, “Hey, Brett.” Jennifer. She stood there smiling at me in the doorway for a second before she looked over at Kelly and smiled at him, too. Curiously. And then she said, looking at Kelly more than me, “I’m sorry—I didn’t know you had a visitor.”
I know Jennifer’s pretty, but Kelly was looking at her as if he was starving and she was Thanksgiving dinner. And then he said something dumb like, “Don’t mind me,” and scooted over on my bed so Jennifer could sit down. Then he looked at me, and then at Jennifer, and then back at me expectantly, so I had to give in and said, “Jennifer, this is my friend Kelly.” He was all, “Yeah, hi, I’m Kelly.” I wanted to ask Kelly why he was acting like an idiot, but then Jennifer started talking to him, and when she said his whole name, he was all, “Yeah, that’s me!” You should have seen how excited he got, just because she knew his stupid name. Just like a dog being offered a cookie.
Jennifer kept on smiling at Kelly while she said, “You play football, too, like Brett. I’ve seen your name in the football programs at Central.” And then Kelly said, “Yeah—I’m a center.” As if she had any idea what that meant. I rolled my eyes before I looked at Jennifer again. And guess what, Kitty? She was blushing! And then she looked at me, as if she all of a sudden remembered where she was and why she was sitting on my bed. She almost looked concerned when she asked me how I was feeling. I was wishing by then that they’d both just leave, but they didn’t. Kelly kept talking to her, and she talked back and tried to get me into their stupid conversation, but I only answered in as few syllables as possible. I’d accidentally left that Mormon Bible Kelly gave me for Christmas on my nightstand last night, and when the conversation lulled, Jennifer picked it up and said to me, all grinning, “You’ve been holding out on me, Brett. Why didn’t you tell me you’re a Mormon, too?” I laughed in my most cynical way and said I most certainly was not a Mormon, but before I could say more, Kelly bored us all with, “But he’s looking into it—I gave him that Book of Mormon last Christmas.” So then the two of them had to go into ecstatics over the fact that both of them are Mormons, as if they’re the only two Mormons in the world! They were both starting to get on my nerves, and I guess they must have noticed, because Jennifer finally said, “Are you getting tired, Brett?” I could tell she wanted to ask me if I was going to be well enough to go to the dance, but she didn’t, so I told her, “Yeah, I think I could stand some sleep right about now.”
I stayed being mad and annoyed until Kelly called me fifteen minutes later, all worried that he’d “trespassed against me,” or something. I wasn’t up to discussing it, because by then I was feeling extremely lousy, and I told Kelly so. But an hour later, I called him back, because I’d had to be sick in the bathroom again, and I finally got it through my thick skull that there was no way I was going to the dance. So I had no choice but to go through the painful agony of asking Kelly if he’d take Jennifer to the dance for me. I just couldn’t let her down after she and her mom made her dress and everything and she was so excited to go. I was hoping Kelly would be amazed that I’d want Jennifer to go to the dance without me, but that as my best friend, he’d say he just couldn’t take the girl of my dreams to the dance I’d been so psyched about. And I was hoping Jennifer would feel the same way. But no. Do you know what Kelly had the nerve to say? He actually said he’d be “honored”—his exact stupid words—to take her. Probably too “honored.” So I hurried and told him I needed to talk to Jennifer first. I was sure she’d say no and tell me how great I was for suggesting she go with Kelly instead, but she shocked me worse than Kelly did. Not only did she say she’d go with him, but she said she was “touched”—her actual words—that I would go out of my way to find another date for her. She kept saying I was “so sweet.” I don’t think I like being told anything I’ve done is “so sweet.” I can’t
deny this sinking feeling that I’ve just done something incredibly stupid . . .
October 26
Dear Kitty,
Jennifer gave me a wallet-sized photo of her and Kelly’s dance picture. She looked incredible, just like I knew she would. I’m going to find a picture of me so I can cut my head out of the picture and paste it over Kelly’s face.
I’m basically well again, but I had to miss a game to get better. I’ll be playing in the last game for October, though, so that’ll be good . . .
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I had my dream of Brett again last night. I hadn’t been able to see what was in his hands the last time I’d had the dream, and as I looked down to see, he simply held out the object to me—a book—with that pleading look on his face. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, and as if on cue, Brett quickly disappeared and I was awake, my heart pounding loudly in my chest.
I hadn’t told anyone about my dreams of Brett. The whole experience had been too—strange. Thinking about the dreams had me sleepwalking my way through school all week long. Somehow—on automatic pilot, I guess—I made it through Honors English with the correct responses whenever Mrs. Dubois called my name. And drama—during class and my tutor sessions, as long as I let myself become my character and gave my memorization skills free reign, I made it through okay. Miss Goforth raised her eyebrow at me a few times, and Jason had a concerned frown that he directed at me during English when he caught me spacing off, but other than that, I did just fine. The end of each school day found me staring at the trophy case, searching Brett’s grinning face for—everything. Anything.
It wasn’t until I was alone in my room at night that I was able to focus on my dreams and wonder about the book Brett had tried to offer me. To relax, I slipped the Rubber Soul album onto the old turntable and pulled out Brett’s journal hidden in my top bureau drawer to read while the Beatles softly sang to me.
I was sprawled on my stomach on my bed, Brett’s journal in both hands, ready to read the opened page before me, but I could feel my eyes widening as I stared past the words—at the book itself—and a moment later, I’d slammed the book shut and flipped myself into a sitting position. The book—Brett’s book.
“Of course—it has to be!” I said out loud, staring at the dark maroon cover of Brett’s journal now gripped tightly in my hands. I hugged the journal and laughed softly over being excited to fall asleep that night. I even hoped I’d dream.
~
October 31
Dear Kitty,
Halloween. You looked so cute dressed like a little black kitten. The costume was my idea. What else would be appropriate for you to be? It was great to feel well enough to tote you all over the neighborhood trick-or-treating. I think your favorite part was refusing to talk and making me look like a dork while I said “trick or treat” at every house myself!
Now that my flu is over and I was able to help the team win another game, I’m basically back to my old self again. We’re definitely in the quarter finals, which start next month. The whole school’s pretty excited. It’s been great, but it’d be even better if everything was going just as great with Jennifer. Now that the homecoming dance fiasco is over, we’re basically okay again, but—I don’t know. Things are different now. She asks about Kelly too much and always wants to set one of her friends up with him so we can double. And Alex—he’s always telling me I’m pushing myself too hard in practice and when we work out after school. I’m okay now—why can’t he get that through his thick skull? If only he’d get off my back . . .
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Since I’d been going out of my way to compliment Emily on her piano playing, she’d been drawing me pictures, all of which were religious. She was as sneaky as Jason, drawing pictures she knew would require me to ask her to explain, and in doing so, I usually received some religious instruction. Jason, of course, enjoyed the whole exchange.
When Emily opened the door for me that afternoon, she gave me a picture consisting of two young women and one young man, all in white and holding hands with musical notes around their heads. When I asked her to explain her picture to me, she calmly stated that it was herself and Jason and I singing together in heaven, “Before we were born, when we were all friends together.” I thanked her for her very interesting drawing and carefully tucked it inside one of my notebooks, thankful she’d given me this one when I first came in, rather than after I’d joined Jason for tutoring.
We were studying Langston Hughes’s poetry this week, and in particular, both Jason and I had been focusing on his poem “Harlem” for our papers. I tried to keep my mind on my paper, but one line of the poem kept repeating like a broken record, over and over in my head:
“What happens to a dream deferred?”
I didn’t realize how long I’d been thinking about that line until Jason looked up at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I quickly looked down at my paper. Jason was silent until I dared to look up again. I wasn’t surprised to see he was still looking at me. And obviously waiting.
“What?” I said, as innocently as possible.
“Since you’ve been staring at my leg now for, oh, at least five, ten minutes straight, I know the right answer isn’t ‘nothing.’”
I wasn’t sure how to say what I’d been thinking—what I’d been thinking for a long time and had been neatly and strongly summed up in Langston Hughes’s poem. What had happened to Jason’s dream deferred? It’d been weeks since his injury. Central’s football team had been winning games like crazy and was now ready for the playoff finals. Without Jason. I didn’t know how he could stand going to the games, but go he did. And it wasn’t just at the games that he seemed to be in a good mood. It was all the time. I never saw him in a bad mood. Not at school and not during tutoring, either. I couldn’t believe he could stay so—happy.
I voiced my thoughts as well as I could, stumbling along as he continued to watch me. “Knowing you, I guess you’re going to tell me it’s because of your religion, huh?” I tried to laugh and lighten the mood, but Jason was looking at me too seriously. He finally set his book and paper aside and leaned towards me.
“First of all, Kathy, believe me when I say that I’m not in a good mood every second over this.” Jason pointed at his knee. “This knee injury is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. Yeah, I guess my football dream is being deferred. Who knows—maybe I’ll never live my dream of playing professional football someday. I’ve messed my knee up before, and as bad as this injury is, it’s hard to say if I’ll ever play again. I hate thinking about it, but that doesn’t make the question go away. I could let myself get really bitter, but I can’t shake the feeling I’ve had from day one that there’s a reason this injury happened to me. That I’m supposed to learn something from all of this.”
“And what have you learned?” I asked, setting my own book aside.
Jason smiled. “How to deal with disappointment. Patience, for another. And I think maybe God has a different plan in mind for me than the one I’m following.”
A different plan. From God, no less. That was definitely interesting.
“Besides—all these things shall give me experience, and shall be for my good.” Jason smiled then as if he was sharing a private “ah ha” with himself that I didn’t understand.
“Amazing. Did you think that up yourself?”
Jason laughed. “Hardly. That’s from the Doctrine and Covenants.”
“Oh. Book of Mormon stuff.”
“No, Doctrine and Covenants is a different book of scripture.”
“There’s more?”
Jason grinned. “There’s always more, Kathy. That’s what’s so great.”
“Hmmm.” I sat back in my chair and folded my arms while Jason continued to smile at me in a way that was making me feel uncomfortable. Pleasantly uncomfortable.
“Hey, Jason!”
As if on cue, Angela bounced her way into the room, crashing and destroyi
ng the moment. Our time was about up anyway, so I quickly scrambled my books and papers together and made a hasty departure. I was busy fumbling with my car keys outside—
“Kathy! Hey, Kathy! Wait up a second!”
Angela. I slowly turned to face her, pasting a nice fake smile on my face.
“You were in such a hurry, you dropped this.”
I looked at the paper she was waving in her hand as she bounced over to me. A crayon drawing. Emily’s crayon drawing. Of Jason, Emily, and me holding hands and singing together.
“Oh, yeah. Emily made that for me. Thanks.” I reached to snatch it from her, but she neatly pulled it away from my grasp to study it.
“It’s an interesting picture. Did she tell you what it’s about?”
“Oh, she said something about it being a picture of me and her and . . . Jason . . . in heaven. Before we were born.”
“Oh, cute.” But I could tell she didn’t think it was cute at all.
“You know, it’s just a drawing. By a kid. I mean—if you’re worried about me coming over here to help Jason, nothing’s going on or anything like that—”
Before I could continue, Angela laughed. “Oh, I know! I know you’re just Jason’s tutor! He’s told me. I know how much he needs your help to get through English. He’d do practically anything to get your help.” Angela continued to babble, hardly stopping for a breath. “And I know he’s been teaching you stuff, too. Jason just loves sharing the gospel with anyone who’ll listen! And he’s good at getting just about anyone to listen! I think it’s really cool that he’s teaching you about our church. He’s going to be such a great missionary someday.”
I felt my insides go colder than ice while my own fake smile froze on my face. Angela turned with a quick “See ya!” and bounced triumphantly back into Jason’s house, shutting the door firmly behind her.
~
I couldn’t stop fuming over my thirty-second conversation with Angela the rest of the evening and into the night. But far worse than having to deal with Angela face to face was thinking about what she’d said. Or, more important, what she’d insinuated. And even more amazing, that I even cared. Just Jason’s tutor. Well, I supposed she was right. After all, Jason had come to me looking for a tutor, not a friend. Certainly not a girlfriend. In fact, I’d known he and Angela had a thing before I’d ever agreed to tutor him. Plus, he hadn’t made any real move towards me since the homecoming dance fiasco. And it wasn’t that shocking that he liked talking about his religion with me. I knew Mormons were encouraged to share their religion with others. I’d seen the commercials on TV.
The Secret Journal of Brett Colton Page 17