Now today is Valentine’s Day and I could be feeling all sorry for myself since I seem to be the only one on the planet without a boyfriend. Well, I do tend to exaggerate. But within my old group of friends it seems that everyone is neatly paired off, including Thea, who is now dating Justin (they probably deserve each other). But I have to admit that it really disturbed me when Emily and Todd got back together. Go figure! I guess she thought that since she tested negative for the STD everything was okay between them. “Don’t worry,” she said when I questioned her. “I’m being very careful now.”
Well, I have no response to that. But I am definitely praying for her.
But as I was saying, today is Valentine’s Day and it seems like everyone is acting all lovey-dovey and sweet and gooey, and here I am and I don’t even have a boyfriend. But the thing is, I am totally cool with that. Everything’s just fine.
Okay, I’ll admit that I really like Nate a lot, and our friendship has steadily grown during the past several weeks. But we’ve both agreed that neither of us is ready to date. Not yet anyway. So we’ve decided to just be friends. Really good friends. And that’s okay. In fact, it’s better than okay. It’s awesome!
But here I am in the locker room again, and the girls are all blabbing on and on about the Valentine’s Dance, or more specifically what they’ll be doing after the dance. It seems that several of the guys have rented hotel rooms so they can party on even after the band goes home. Now this used to be a custom reserved for prom night, but it’s clear from what I’m hearing that some people will use any dance as an excuse to “get some.”
Anyway, I for one am getting totally disgusted with the raunchy conversation in here, and I am seriously considering pulling a Casey Renwick on them, although it wouldn’t be completely sincere because I haven’t given up on guys entirely (although I am definitely saving myself for marriage!). I might like to date someday, especially someone as nice as Nate.
So after a particularly bad joke about edible undies, I just completely lose it. “Why don’t you put a sock in it, Thea?” I say as I dangle a sweaty PE sock in front of her face.
She blinks then says, “Well, excuse me, little Miss Manners.”
“What’s up with you, Zoë?” demands Kirsti. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous. Are you feeling bad that Thea got your guy?”
I roll my eyes at her. “Yeah, you bet.”
Now Thea puts her arm around my shoulders. “Poor Zoë. You don’t have a date tonight, do you? Hey, maybe you should join Justin and me. We could have a sweet little threesome.” She chuckles. “If ya know what I mean.”
Now I realize I’m a Christian and I should have more self-control, but this just really irks me. “That is so sick.” Then I wonder why I even bothered to open my mouth, since I am now the center of attention and it’s not really working for me. But suddenly I have an idea.
“But you know what?” I continue talking in what I hope is an intriguing tone. “I do have a little announcement I’d like to make.”
“What?” demands Kirsti.
I can tell they’re all listening. “Do you guys remember when I told you about my surfer dude last summer? How we did it on the beach and everything?” Now Kirsti and Thea nod eagerly like maybe I’m about to give them another juicy tidbit. “Well, that was all just a big fat lie.”
“I knew it,” says Kirsti in a triumphant voice. “I knew you made that guy up!”
“And you know what else,” I continue in a reckless way, knowing that I have their full attention now, “I am still a virgin.”
Well, it’s so quiet in the locker room that you can hear Mrs. Post’s radio quietly playing oldies in her office. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was listening too. But several of my friends are looking at me like they don’t really believe what I just said. In fact, I can hardly believe I just admitted it myself.
“It’s true,” I continue. “And you know what else? I’m glad that I’m a virgin, and I don’t care who knows about it. I don’t even care if I’m the last virgin left in Hamilton High.” Although I know this isn’t the case since there’s always Casey Renwick.
“Well, you’re not,” says a voice. And I look over to see Andrea standing up now. “Because I am a virgin too.”
“No way!” says Thea, like she’s getting seriously mad now.
“Way.” Andrea walks over and stands next to me. “I made it all up last year, just to get you guys off my case. But I’m sick of pretending.” She takes my hand in hers then lifts them both like a victory sign. “Let the world know that I am a virgin too!” She’s smiling now. “Just like Zoë. So get over it.”
Then suddenly, to my total surprise, about fifteen other girls walk over and join us. Okay, they might not exactly be in our particular clique, but then who cares when it comes to virgin sisterhood? Because, one by one, each of them proclaims that they too are virgins. And pretty soon we are all just standing in this circle, laughing and slapping each other on the backs, and it is pretty clear that we are not a minority. I mean as wild as it seems, virgins rule! Well, at least in this particular class. I’m not sure about the rest of the school.
But I can’t help but notice the “experienced” girls (like Thea, Kirsti, Shawna, and even Emily) watching us. And I can’t help but think they look slightly out of it just now. Like maybe they’re even regretting some of their choices or perhaps they’re actually envious.
And before I start to gloat (which is seriously close to happening) I remember that I belong to God now. And I remember that my God is a gracious and forgiving God. And so I smile at the girls who are looking at us with expressions of slight bewilderment and I say to them, “But, hey, that’s okay, you guys, I still want to be your friend.”
Well, Thea and Kirsti just laugh at me like they think I’m totally nuts. And I suppose I was trying to be slightly funny. But I also notice this hopeful look in Emily’s eyes, and maybe in Shawna’s too. And I’m thinking, Who knows what might come of this crazy confession? And suddenly I can’t wait to see what God will do next!
reader’s guide
1. Early in the story, Zoë feels ashamed that she’s still a virgin. Why? And why does she lie about it?
2. Zoë seems obsessed by the fact that she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Why is her identity so wrapped up in this? What other qualities does Zoë have that might be more important?
3. Casey Renwick is hugely opposed to dating. How do you think she reached such a strong position?
4. Zoë talks to a number of people about sexuality. Who gave her the best advice? The worst? What would you tell her?
5. Zoë’s parents seem a little checked out. Do you think that’s good or bad? How involved are your parents?
6. What do you think Zoë should’ve done after discovering Todd cheating on her best friend? What would you do?
7. Zoë allowed herself to get into what could’ve been a date-rape situation. How could she have avoided this?
8. Who had the strongest influence in Zoë’s life? Who has the most influence in yours? How do you feel about that influence?
9. Which character in Torch Red is the most like you and why? Do you wish you were like a different character? Why?
10. What do you think ultimately drew Zoë to make a commitment to God? What drew you to God? Or are you still searching?
TrueColors Book 4:
Pitch Black
Coming in September 2004
How does a girl climb out of the darkest depression of her life?
One
“DID YOU HEAR ABOUT JASON?” CARLIE’S EYES ARE WIDE AS SHE GRABS ME by the arm. But I’m just not in the mood for her theatrics right now. And I’m not interested in any juicy bits of gossip. Not even about Jason. And certainly not today.
I slam my messy locker shut. A sleeve of my favorite red sweatshirt is dangling out, hanging there like a panting tongue, begging to be rescued. But I just give the metal door a loud kick and turn away.
“Morgan!” Carlie is g
laring at me now. “Listen to—”
“Just leave me alone!” I snap at her. “I’m going to be late for economics.” Then I shake free from her grip and just walk away. Okay, I know I’m being totally rude. And Carlie is my friend. I should turn around and apologize. Friends don’t treat friends like this. And, considering that my friends are pretty limited these days (like I can easily count them on one hand with fingers left over), I should really know better than to act like this. But the fact is I just don’t care. Because this is reality—my life sucks. And I am totally fed up. So everyone will be much better off if they just leave Morgan Bergstrom alone.
It’s like I can’t see anyone as I storm down the hallway toward the east wing. It’s like I’m just walking down this dark tunnel and I’m fueled by anger. Oh, I can tell that kids are here and there, and maybe they’re even looking at me. But I’ve got bigger problems to consider right now.
How can I be expected to get out of bed every morning and show up at this moronic school in order to get a stupid education (which is probably totally worthless) when everything in my life is totally out of control? I mean seriously, how much crud does a seventeen-year-old girl have to take? And it’s not like this is my fault. I mean I’ve tried to do my best, to make good choices, and even be fairly responsible (at least for my age). But even so, it’s like everything in my life just keeps falling apart. It’s all unraveling and I just can’t take it anymore.
Okay, it’s no big deal that my parents got divorced when I was in grade school. I mean that happens to lots of kids. And eventually you get over it. And never mind that my older brother, Jonathan, is probably using drugs and my mom is totally oblivious. I mean he hardly ever comes home anyway. Although every time he does come home, something valuable goes missing. Last time he took my CD player. I now have a deadbolt lock on my bedroom door. But he’s not really the problem either.
Okay, it bugs me that my mom doesn’t really seem to notice these things lately. And even if I try to tell her, she’s so preoccupied with her own life that she doesn’t really listen. Oh, she pretends to listen, but you can tell by that glazed-over, dreamy look in her eye that she’s off in La-La Land thinking about Bradley. Stupid, moronic Bradley Finch! Man, I wish she’d never met this loser dude from her job at the telephone company. They’ve only been dating a couple of weeks now, but it’s like he’s launched her into this ridiculous middle-aged pursuit of youth and superficiality that is not only totally embarrassing (I mean you should see what she’s wearing these days!) but it’s completely ruining my life. I mean talk about a train wreck! And it doesn’t help anything that Bradley is in his twenties (he won’t even tell us his real age) or that my mom is forty-three (which she won’t admit to Bradley). She even told him that she’d had her kids when she was “just a kid” herself. Which is totally bogus, not to mention lame. But it’s like she suddenly thinks she’s Demi Moore and he’s Ashton Kutcher and they are like the hottest couple in town. Give me a break!
At first, I told myself to just chill, that this whole thing would blow over before Valentine’s Day. I mean most of my mom’s romances don’t last very long anyway, and this one seemed more doomed than the others. So I figured if I could keep my mouth shut and just be patient, things would eventually return to normal.
But now I know I was delusional. Last night those two idiots took their stupidity to a whole new level.
“We’re getting married!” my mom announced from where the two lovebirds were snuggled up together on our couch. Now she said this like it was really good news, like I should jump up and down for joy.
“What?” I demanded, seriously hoping that I’d heard her wrong.
She smiled at me and laid a big wet one on Bradley. Then, giggling like she was in middle school, she turned back to me. “We’re in love, honey. We’ve decided to get married.”
“Married?” I actually gasped now. I mean it was one thing for them to date, and Bradley had already spent a few nights here in our apartment. But marriage? Give me a break.
“We love each other, Morgan. Can’t you see that?”
“But, Mom . . .”
“I know, I know . . .” Mom smiled at me in this out-to-lunch sort of way. “It probably seems sudden to you. But we really want to do this.”
“When?” I asked in a wimped-out voice.
“We’re both taking off work tomorrow and Friday. We’ll fly standby to Vegas, get married in one of those little chapels, and then spend the weekend there. Oh, can’t you be happy for me, Morgan?”
I felt like I was going to be sick. “Mom?” I pleaded with her. “You can’t be serious. I mean you guys barely know each other. And Bradley’s, well, he’s a lot younger than—”
“Oh, Morgan.” My mom made her pouty face. “You know that age is just a number.”
“But Mom, what about—”
“Hey, can’t you just be happy for us, Morgan?” interrupted Bradley as he stroked my mom’s recently bleached hair. “We belong together. Lee Anne is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I wanted to suggest that perhaps Lee Anne could adopt him since I felt pretty sure she was old enough to be his mother.
“Whatever,” I finally said. I mean what difference did my opinion make anyway? “I’ve got homework.”
“So, you’ll be okay, honey?” my mom called after me as I headed for my room.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I could hear the dead tone of my voice. But I knew that she wouldn’t even notice.
“And you don’t mind being home by yourself for a few days?”
“Don’t worry about me,” I called as I closed the door to my room, securing the deadbolt even though Jonathan wasn’t around. Then I threw myself on my bed and cried. I think I actually hoped that my mom might hear me and come in, like she used to do, and ask me what was wrong. I thought maybe she’d see how this was ruining everything and come to her senses, change her mind about marrying Bradley.
But she didn’t. When I got up this morning, she was already gone. Her suitcases were gone. Her car was gone. And she didn’t even leave a note telling me where she went or when she’d return. For all I know she may never come back at all. I’m not even sure that I would care if she didn’t.
I glance around the classroom now, wondering how I even managed to get here and sit down. I can tell by the clock that this class is nearly over, and I don’t even remember it starting. It’s like I’ve been stuck in time, or maybe experiencing the Twilight Zone. But suddenly I remember that Carlie had been trying to tell me something about Jason. I look around the room to see where he’s sitting. Maybe my pity party is coming to an end because now I feel slightly curious as to what Jason’s up to. Maybe he finally got that tattoo. Wouldn’t that freak his respectable, conservative parents? But I don’t see Jason in class today. And suddenly I’m wondering if he’s gotten into some new kind of trouble. I sure hope not since I’d really like to talk to him.
Jason and I have been friends since grade school. We even tried going out together when we were fifteen, but it felt too much like I was kissing my brother and so we called it quits. “Let’s just keep on being good friends,” I told him. And he agreed. And that’s what we’ve done. In fact, I’m thinking that Jason is just the person to pour out my current problems to. He’s a way better listener than Carlie. I mean even though he lives in this freaking, perfectionist world (with parents who are still happily married with great kids, and go to church every Sunday, and mow their lawn on Saturdays, and have respectable jobs, and impressive friends . . .) Jason is still totally understanding of my whacked-out little life. Maybe it’s because he always considers himself to be the “black sheep” of his family. Which is totally ridiculous since Jason is one of the coolest guys I know. I mean he gets good grades, goes out for sports, hardly ever gets into trouble, and if he does, he’s always sorry afterward. I mean he’s not perfect, but compared to most kids he’s pretty much got it together.
Of course, he doesn’t see it th
at way. Sometimes he compares himself to his older brother and sister (who must be directly descended from God, they are so disgustingly perfect). But it’s a lot to live up to, and sometimes Jason gets discouraged. And that’s when he tends to do things, well, things that are not so smart. Things that he later regrets. Like the time he wrecked his dad’s car drag racing down by the lake. Not a good scene. But he worked all summer to help pay off the deductible on the insurance, and eventually he even got to drive again.
Finally, class is over and I gather up my stuff, shove it into my backpack, and head for the door.
“Morgan,” says Alyssa in a surprisingly sympathetic tone, especially for Alyssa, who can be a real witch sometimes. “How are you doing?”
I look at her and wonder if she’s suddenly turned clairvoyant or nice or both. I mean how could she possibly know about my mom and Bradley? She’s not even that close of a friend. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean about Jason.” She puts her hand on my arm and I feel an icy chill rush through me. Like I know something is wrong. Really wrong.
“What do you mean about Jason?” My voice sounds abnormally high-pitched now.
“You haven’t heard?”
“What’s wrong, Alyssa?” I can see other kids gathering around us now, like maybe they all know something that I don’t. “What’s wrong?” I say again. “What’s going on?”
Torch Red: Color Me Torn with Bonus Content Page 17