by Amy Clipston
“Mom, I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to go to the prom with Taylor.”
She scowled. “I can’t trust you anymore, Whitney.”
“So then ground me. Take away my car! Do something so we can get past this, Mom.” I gestured wildly as I continued to cry. “Please, Mom. Punish me and forgive me.”
Mom shook her head. “I don’t know, Whitney.”
I looked at my father, who had remained stoic and silent during our conversation. “Dad? Can you please help me?”
Dad rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know what to say, Whitney. You really hurt your mother by lying to her. You know it’s never all right to lie.”
“But I’m your daughter. Can’t you forgive me?” I felt small and alone, like a child leaving for school her first day at kindergarten.
“Of course she’ll forgive you, but it might take time.” Dad touched my hand. “You need to learn that your behavior hurts other people, pumpkin.”
I looked from one to the other. “So am I punished? Am I grounded until graduation? Are you taking my car and my phone?”
Mom looked at Dad. “I don’t know, Chuck. You decide. I can’t deal with this anymore. I’m going to sleep.” She rolled onto her side with her back to me, and my heart shattered with regret.
My father faced me. “You’re grounded until graduation. No social gatherings.”
“What about prom?” My voice was still small and unsure.
“Your mom and I will discuss it tomorrow, okay? It’s late, and we’re all tired. Go on to bed, Whitney.” He patted my hand.
I stood and wished my mother would look at me. “Good night.”
I walked slowly back to my room, wishing I could take back all of the hurt I’d caused my mother. I found my phone on my bed and prayed there was a message from Taylor. However, the screen was blank. I hoped he was okay, but an eerie feeling filled me.
I sent him one last message: I miss you.
And then I crawled into bed and poured my confusion and despair into my prayers until I fell asleep.
chapter twenty
Monday morning I left calculus class, wove my way through the sea of students in the clogged hallway, and rushed toward Taylor’s locker. I hadn’t heard back from him since I texted him Saturday night, and I was anxious to see him, especially since my mom had relented and decided I could go to prom as long as I was “responsible.” I held my calculus unit test in my hand and couldn’t wait to tell him about my grade. When I spotted him fishing through his locker, I picked up speed.
“Taylor! Taylor!” I rushed over to him. “Look! I got a B-plus!” I held the test out in front of him so he could see the giant, red B-plus for himself.
“That’s great, Whitney.” He kept his eyes focused on his books. “I guess that means you don’t need me anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“You got your B-plus. You’re done with me and can move on to someone else now.” He slammed his locker door with such force that I jumped. He then hefted his backpack onto his shoulder. “See you later.” He started down the hallway.
“What’s wrong?” I hurried after him. “Taylor, wait!”
When he kept walking, I grabbed his arm and yanked him back, causing him to stumble. “Talk to me, Taylor. Why are you treating me like I did something wrong?”
He glowered at me. “I heard your conversations Saturday night, Whitney.”
“What conversations?” I studied his eyes, finding anger and hurt there.
“I heard everything you said at the country club when you were in the hallway talking to your mother.”
I cupped my hand to my mouth. Oh no!
“You’re ashamed to be seen with me. That’s why you never told your mother you were going to prom with me.” His voice rose, and a crowd of curious spectators gathered around us.
“No, no.” My voice was thick and sounded strange to me. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, really?” He swiped the calculus test from my hand. “The way I see it is I’m only good enough to tutor you and help you get a B-plus on a test. I’ll see you later.” He turned away, and I grabbed his arm.
“No, that’s not true!” I spun him, and he faced me again as the crowd of onlookers grew. “Taylor, please!” I touched his arm, and he yanked it away from me. “Please listen to me, Taylor. Let me explain.”
“I have to get to class,” he groused.
“Taylor, please. Give me a minute.”
He studied me, and the hurt in his eyes broke my heart. “What, Whitney?”
“Taylor, I care about you. I’m not ashamed to be seen with you. I lied because I knew my mother would never have approved if I told her I was going to the prom with you. I was going to tell her the truth at the last minute so she didn’t have time to forbid me to go. Everything would’ve been planned by then, and she would have just had to accept it.” Tears spilled from my eyes. “Please, Taylor. You have to believe I care about you. You know more about me than anyone. I’ve bared my heart and soul to you. You’re my best friend.”
He shook his head. “If you truly cared about me and weren’t ashamed to go to prom with me, then you would’ve stood up to your mother from the beginning. Hiding behind lies proves our relationship meant nothing to you.”
“That’s not true.” I swiped my hand over my burning face. “You mean everything to me.”
The bell rang.
“I have to go, Whitney. See you around.” Taylor stalked down the hallway.
After he disappeared around the corner, I rushed into a nearby girls’ room, locked myself in the last stall, and sobbed.
Thursday night I sat alone in the back of the classroom at church during the youth-group meeting. I hadn’t seen Taylor at school, and he hadn’t answered when I tried to call his cell phone or responded when I texted to apologize.
I’d been up late nearly every night pouring out my heart to God and begging him for an answer. I didn’t know how to apologize to my mother or Taylor. I felt as if my world was crumbling around me, and I’d never felt so lost and alone. Although pouring my heart and soul out to God was cathartic, it didn’t bring me any closer to a solution to my problems.
I’d considered not coming to youth group, but I needed to get out of the house. Although my mother wasn’t talking to me, my father told me I could attend youth group tonight despite my grounding. He said I looked like I needed to venture out and go to church. I knew he was right. The silence from both my mother and Taylor was slowly suffocating me as I drowned in my loneliness.
At youth group Jenna dimmed the classroom lights and then started a movie. The smell of popcorn filled the air as bowls made their way down the row of tables.
Emily slipped into the room just after the movie started and sat beside me. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I kept my eyes fixed on the screen.
Emily leaned in close. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” I forced a smile.
“What’s wrong?”
Someone near the front told us to be quiet.
Emily grabbed my hand and pulled me out into the hallway, closing the door behind us. “Whitney, what’s wrong?”
“Everything is wrong.” I cleared my throat, willing myself not to cry again. I’d cried so much during the past few nights, I was surprised my tear ducts weren’t dry. “You were right.”
“I was right?” Emily shook her head with confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“My plan for prom backfired.”
“Oh no.” Emily groaned. “Let’s go talk.”
We moved into an empty classroom, and I told her everything that had happened at the country club and then filled her in on my conversations with my mother and Taylor.
“So, in the end, I’m left all alone. I’ve lost my mother and my boyfriend.” I ran my fingers over the cool table. “You were so right, and Taylor’s right too. I should’ve stood up to my mother.”
“No, it’s not that simple.” Emily touched
my arm. “Your mother isn’t as easy to deal with as other mothers are. You did what you thought was best.”
“But it was a dumb plan.” I rested my chin on my palm. “I don’t know what to do. I love my mom and I also love Taylor. How do I get them back?”
“Girls?” Jenna stuck her head in the room. “Is everything all right?”
“We were just talking,” Emily said. “Whitney is trying to figure out a problem.”
“Can I help?” Jenna stood in the doorway.
“That would be great,” I said. “I told a lie, and when my mother and my boyfriend found out the truth, they both were heartbroken. Now my mother won’t speak to me, and my boyfriend broke up with me and won’t speak to me either. I’ve tried to apologize, but neither of them will listen or forgive me.”
“Hmm.” Jenna sank into a chair beside me and tapped her finger against her chin. “That sounds like a really complicated situation.”
“I’ve managed to create a real mess.” I looked at Emily, who gave me a sad look. “I should’ve listened to my cousin. She told me it wouldn’t work out well. But I was arrogant and stubborn. I thought I had it all under control.”
Emily shook her head. “I’m not perfect, Whitney. You know I’ve messed up before. I’ve let my stubbornness and my pride come between Zander and me when we first met. But I realized my mistakes, and it all worked out.” She touched my hand. “Remember you’re not alone. You still have me.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. I was so grateful for her.
“God reminds us he’s always with us, even when things are tough,” Jenna said as she faced me. “Good things can still come of bad situations. Sometimes we learn important things when we go through rough times. Whatever happens, God still loves you and will be there for you.”
Jenna thought for a minute. “This is really hard, Whitney. I know you’re very upset, and with good reason. I think you need to pray about all that’s happening in your life right now. Ask God to give you the words to talk to your mother and your boyfriend. Ask God to help them listen to you and understand what’s going on with you.”
“I know I’m not alone, but my life has become so complicated over the past couple of months.” I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “I feel as if I’ve been going through an identity crisis. I don’t relate to my friends like I used to. In fact, my best friends from elementary school feel like strangers, and I was dating someone who I never thought I would date. And through all of these changes, I’ve been talking to God more than ever. I don’t just say the same prayer I used to say every night at bedtime when I was little. I’ve been talking to God, really talking to him. I’ve been sharing all of my thoughts and fears.”
“That’s great!” Emily squeezed my hand. “That’s what you need to do.”
“But I don’t feel like I’m solving anything.” Fresh tears pooled in my eyes. “Why isn’t God giving me the answers I so desperately need?”
“Do you remember I had a hard time praying after my mom died?” Emily asked.
“I remember that,” I said. “You forgot how to talk to God because you were struggling with your grief.”
“Well, I learned the hard way that life is hard sometimes, and sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to. But God is always there for us. You may not see him or feel him right now, but he’s here with you. You’re never alone.” Emily hugged me, and my tears began to sprinkle down my cheeks.
“She’s right.” Jenna rubbed my back. “You might feel alone right now, but you’re not. God is guiding you, and he’ll give you the answer you need soon. You just have to keep talking to him and listening for the answer.”
“Okay.” I sniffed and swiped the back of my hand over my cheeks.
“Things will work out for you, Whitney,” Jenna said with emphasis. “I know it will. Your mom loves you, and she’ll move past her anger. You just have to give her time.”
“I hope so.” I cleared my throat. “It’s funny how I couldn’t stand how she used to nag me, but I think her silence is even more painful for me.”
Emily chuckled. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but I have to ask,” Jenna began cautiously. “Is Taylor Martinez your boyfriend?”
“Yeah.” My voice cracked, and I hoped I wouldn’t cry again. I was so tired of crying, but I was also inundated with anguish.
Jenna touched my arm. “From what I’ve seen, I think he really cares about you. I would imagine if you try again to tell him how you feel, he’ll listen.”
“Thank you.” I hugged Jenna.
“You’re welcome, Whitney.” Jenna stood. “I better get back to the movie. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks, Jenna,” Emily said as Jenna left the room. She then turned to me. “I think Jenna’s right.”
“Yeah, me too.” I grabbed a box of tissues from the desk behind me and wiped my nose. “I’m so thankful for you.”
“Are you still going to go to prom?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know. I’d feel like a loser going by myself.”
“No, don’t say that,” Emily insisted. “You’re not a loser, and you can’t miss your senior prom. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Come with Zander and me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious. Why would you want me to interfere with you and Zander?”
“You wouldn’t be interfering. I want you there.” She sat on the table, facing me. “We’ll all ride together. You can sit with us at prom too, which also might make your parents feel better about you going. Just friends hanging out. It will be so much fun.”
I imagined myself sitting in the car alone in the backseat while she and Zander held hands and gazed at each other. At the dance I’d sit alone and sip my drink while she and Zander slow-danced together on the crowded dance floor with all of the other happy couples in our senior class. How depressing would that be?
“I don’t know.” I grabbed another tissue and swiped it over my cheeks. “I think I’d rather stay home alone. Maybe I’ll rent a movie and pop up some popcorn with Logan.”
Emily suddenly smiled. “But what if you stay home, and Taylor comes to the prom?”
My heart skipped a beat. “Did he tell you he was coming?”
“No, but he might decide to come at the last minute. You should at least come for a little while. If you’re totally miserable, then I’ll ask Zander to take you home.” She folded her hands as if to pray. “Please, Whitney? Please come? You look stunning in that dress.”
I knew arguing was pointless. “Fine. I’ll think about it, but I just hope I don’t regret this.”
“You won’t.” Emily said the words with emphasis. “Trust me.”
Later that evening, I knocked on my parents’ bedroom door and entered after my father told me to come in. My parents were both propped up in bed. Mom was reading a book, and Dad was watching the news.
I stood in the doorway, wishing my mother would look over at me. “I just wanted to say good night.”
Dad muted the television and then looked at me. “Did you have a nice time at youth group?”
“Yeah, I did. Emily was there.” I fingered the ribbon on my pajamas.
“That’s nice,” Dad said.
Mom glanced at me, her expression blank. Oh how I longed for her to talk to me! It felt as if the silence between us had grown from a small crack to the Grand Canyon since Saturday night.
“Well, good night.” I gave a little wave. “Love you.”
“Good night, Whitney. Love you too.” Dad winked at me.
As I stepped out into the hallway, I heard my mother’s voice faintly say, “I love you, dear.” The sound of her words gave me a glimmer of hope through my despair.
I hopped into bed, snuggled under my covers, and closed my eyes before taking Jenna’s advice to open my heart up to God as I had the previous nights:
God, I hurt so much. I see now what a big mista
ke I made when I lied to my mother and Taylor. I know I should’ve been up front and honest with my mother about my feelings for Taylor. I believe Jenna when she says you’re still with me, but God, I need your help. Please help me know what to say to Mom and Taylor. And please help them to be open to listening to me. Help them to understand. I’m so sorry I hurt them. I love them both.
The next morning I awoke with a sense of peace I hadn’t felt since the fallouts with my mother and Taylor. Although I wasn’t certain I’d found a solution, I felt as if I could handle the situation and find the strength to make it right. I just kept praying for the right words.
After school I was heading down the hallway when I heard someone call my name. I looked back and found Coach Lori waving to me from her classroom door.
“Whitney. Do you have a minute?” She beckoned me into her room.
“Sure.” I stepped into the classroom. “What’s going on?”
“We need to talk.” Coach Lori closed the door behind me. “Have a seat.”
I lowered myself into a desk in the front row. “Am I in trouble?”
She laughed. “No, you aren’t in trouble. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.” She sat at a desk across from me. “I wanted to check on you. How are things going?”
“Fine.” I hoped I sounded convincing.
“I had an interesting conversation with a couple of the cheer-team girls yesterday. I found out that schoolwork wasn’t the reason you left the team.” She folded her hands. “Do you want to tell me the truth?”
I hesitated, wondering how much I should share with her. How could I tell her the team didn’t approve of my boyfriend? It sounded so childish.
“I know Misty Strickland and Monica Barnes weren’t nice to you.” Coach Lori said. “I’ve tried very hard to make my team not be the stereotypical mean-girl clique you see in high school movies. I’m starting to think I’ve failed.”