Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)

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Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2) Page 30

by Andrea Randall


  While Mom isn’t by my side for this one, I did get to see her at the end of break, as planned, at Roland’s house. I waited until then to tell her about what had happened with Matt. Casting a wide-eyed glance to Roland, she quickly looked back at me and said, “You did the right thing. I’m proud of you.” That was it. Things are still a little weird for us, but I think that’s just kind of part of growing up. Sure, there are different challenges in our way than a normal mother-daughter relationship, but we’ve never been particularly normal as it is.

  “Lift your chin,” a nameless makeup artist says softly.

  I comply and take a deep breath.

  “You look so pretty,” Eden says, fussing with my hair and smiling at me in the mirror.

  “Lucky!” Bridgette fake-whines of all the attention I’m receiving.

  Nameless makeup artist grins and looks up. “I’ll do you girls once she’s on camera.”

  They squeal in unison and the artist winks before painting tinted gloss on my lips.

  On the drive back from Georgia, Jonah and I had a long talk about telling Eden what went down at The Pink Pony. I said I had to talk with her about it. That I needed her not only as a friend, but a prayer confidant. Sure, I told Mollie and we talked about all the depression and sadness of the whole thing, but Eden would understand at a different level, I argued. I knew that it would be asking a lot of Jonah to be that kind of vulnerable with Eden when talking about what happened, but he wants to be friends with her still anyway, so we agreed to talk with her together.

  I didn’t tell Bridgette, though, and I don’t plan to. Not yet, anyway, and Eden gets it. She won’t tell, either. None of us can control who Matt will tell, if anyone, but we figure he’s not likely to talk.

  Because not only is he not talking to me, he’s not really talking to Jonah, either. Jonah’s been able to get a few words out of him, but they’re mostly in grunt-form. I’m getting the brunt of Matt’s silent treatment, I’m guessing, because I’m the one that involved our dads, which brought everything to a whole other level.

  “You’re ready,” the makeup artist says, assessing me from a few feet back.

  “Whatever you say,” I mumble with a grin before sliding from my chair and walking into Roland’s living room.

  It’s just me and Greg Mauer today. Roland’s teaching some seminar this morning, and I just need to get this “in-depth” interview over with. Jahara is supervising the whole affair, but I’ve been so damn busy since getting back to school that I’ve had little time to fret over this interview. I’m still working my shifts at Word, have a full course load, attending Bible study, and trying to be an active participant around campus. Also there’s the bit about grieving over losing my best friend and trying not to let him go, but other than that …

  “Kennedy,” Greg starts the interview with a warm smile. Out of the corner of my eye I see Bridgette fawning over herself in the mirror as the makeup artist works her magic. “It’s great to see you again.”

  I nod, offering a professional, closed-mouth smile. “Likewise, Greg. Likewise.”

  “Let’s get right into it. It’s a new semester,” he leads. I nod. “Have you had contact with Joy Martinez? Is she back to school.”

  It would be unprofessional to roll my eyes on camera, but I do it anyway. I throw a smile on top of it to lessen the sting. “I believe so, but we haven’t had a chance to get together yet.”

  I know so. Joy’s repeating all of her classes from last semester, though, so we don’t see each other during the day. Also, she’s moved to another dorm, and since she wasn’t friends with any of us anyway, no one really knows where she is. I’ve seen her at the dining hall and once or twice in passing to classes, but that’s it.

  Greg’s eyes widen like he’s looking at prey. “Really? After all she put you through, you’d go almost a month into the new semester without speaking to each other to try to reach some sort of understanding?”

  Little does he know, I’ve got fangs of my own. I look to the camera, then back at Greg. “Forgiveness doesn’t come from what we do down here, Greg. It’s not about our relationships with each other. It’s about our relationship with God. I forgave Joy months ago for what happened. I was given the grace to forgive her.”

  “By God.”

  “Yes. And, under that grace, I don’t really find it necessary to rehash a story that’s three months old. I’m moving forward with my life, and I trust Joy is too, and I know that when the time is right we’ll be able to sit down, face-to-face, and talk with each other respectfully, like the strong women of God each of us are.”

  Evidently I was also given the grace of bullshit for this interview. I did forgive Joy, but I’m so consumed with what’s going on—or not going on—with Matt, that I just haven’t given Joy much brain space over the last several weeks. I do want to talk with her, and see if she’s okay, because I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her to step back on campus after all the outrage.

  Greg looks at me with an unamused expression that he quickly morphs into one with personality. “You sound like a changed young woman. When I first spoke with you a couple of months ago, you seemed a lot quieter, maybe more timid. What’s different now?”

  I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin just a little. “I’ve accepted who I am, Greg. I’m made up of where I came from, where I am right now, and even a little of where I’m going. I know without the shadow of a doubt that God is ordering my steps through this process. I know that,” I cut off his follow-up question, “because I would have never chosen this for myself. Yes, I chose to come to CU, but that choice was driven by something far greater than my will. It was driven by the primal desire to know my roots, so that I may grow the right wings.” I let out a long, silent exhale, and briefly close my eyes.

  Thank you for that …

  Clearly only prepared for a gossip session regarding Joy or the differences between Greenwich and Asheville, the rest of the interview feels like fluff. I don’t know what in-depth he was expecting, but I assure you it wasn’t regarding anything positive. Which is really quite disappointing since I typically do like Mauer’s interview style.

  When the interview finally ends, Greg Mauer is out of the house and in his SUV faster than I’ve seen someone move in a while. He didn’t stick around for coffee-talk, but that’s okay. I’ve got to get to my “biology” class anyway. The quotation marks will stay there until I can be sure they’re not politically motivated in their teachings. It’s still too early to tell, but I have a feeling they’ll stay a while.

  “Smart,” Jahara, says approvingly with a nod, holding the door open for me. “You’re a smart girl, Kennedy. That was an excellent interview. I bet if it wasn’t live, they wouldn’t have ever aired it. You were really good.”

  I blush, having never heard much from Jahara at all, let alone pounds of compliments. “Thanks.”

  Eden and Bridgette are waiting outside for me, since we all have “biology” together.

  “You guys look so good!” I say while they twirl around and make kissy-faces in the air. “Love it!”

  “You were so good in that interview. Did you mean all of that?” Bridgette asks, plodding down the steps.

  Eden links her arm with mine. “Of course she meant it, Bridge,” she says defensively.

  “Oh,” Bridgette turns around, almost pale-faced, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant … how are you so forgiving with Joy?”

  Taking a deep breath as we walk down the driveway, I stop short when I see Matt standing at the gates. The girls stop, too, and no one says a word. I don’t want to move, in fear that he’ll flee, scared like a bird at the feeder. His face is as grey as it was that night in the strip club, though I can reasonably assume he’s not drunk this time. Sure, I see him in class a couple of times a week, but outside of that—nothing. I don’t know if he’s playing a sport this season, but his shoulders do seem to have regained most of the muscle they’d lost over break. Eyes aside, he
looks just like the Matt I thought I knew. But who is anyone, anyway, without their eyes?

  As much as I don’t want him to flee, I can’t stand here and do nothing. I have to try. I’ll always try.

  I take one step forward, my eyes still locked with his. Matt doesn’t run, but I wish he did. He slowly turns on his heels and trudges away one painfully slow step after another.

  Bridgette and Eden give me the courtesy of waiting until he’s out of sight before they close in on my sides, each with one arm around my shoulders.

  “I forgive Joy everyday,” I answer Bridgette’s question with fear rattling my voice, “because I need to be reminded that forgiveness is possible. That anyone, at any time, can be forgiven for any thing.”

  They can, Kennedy. They can, and they will.

  You will.

  He will.

  I will.

  Thank you

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider writing a review, posting about it on your social networks or telling a friend. Word of mouth is the only thing which can make a book successful, and I depend on you, my readers, to allow me to go on writing.

  You can get in touch with me, subscribe to my mailing list and find out about the latest releases at my website: http://www.andrearandall.com

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  Acknowledgements

  I want to thank Charles for taking this risk, and making even bigger sacrifices in order for me to see this series through. Whether it’s five books or twenty books, I know you’ll be by my side. Thank you to my wonderful beta readers willing to stick this out, even if it’s a genre shift for some of you. Your excitement, questions, and insights are invaluable. And, thank you to all my readers, old and new, who are lacing up for this journey, too.

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2015 Andrea Randall

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is unintentional.

  ISBN: 978-1-63202-113-7

  Published by Cincinnatus Press

  PO Box 814

  South Hadley MA 01075

  Table of Contents

  Books by Andrea Randall

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Epilogue

  Thank you

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

 

 

 


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