Bright Purple: Color Me Confused with Bonus Content (4 page)

“I’m not sure where she is,” I say.

Then we chat a little more about the future of Greenville High’s girls’ varsity basketball team.

“Women’s sports have come a long way since I was in high school,” admits Nathan. “Of course, that was back in the dark ages.”

We all laugh, but I’m reminded that despite Nathan’s hip haircut and sideburns, he’s almost as old as my mom.

“But they actually take you girls seriously now,” he continues. “Back in my day, girls’ sports were more for losers.”

BJ laughs. “Well, they still don’t take us as seriously as they do the guys’ sports. They still get top billing, better uniforms, and the best game schedules.”

“But that’s just because of the old bottom line,” I add. “Their games are the ones that bring in the big bucks.”

Mitch winks at me. “Well, I’ll be coming to the women’s basketball games. you can count on that.”

I smile at him. And then I wonder about what BJ said earlier tonight. Is it possible that Mitch might really be into me? And, if so, wouldn’t that be the perfect escape from this dilemma with Jess and her questionable sexual orientation? Plus, it would be the perfect way to show people that I’m not like her, that just because I was once her best friend doesn’t mean I’m a lesbian too. I can feel the
heat on my face just thinking this. Just the idea that this skanky news will be out in the open soon, at least I assume it will, makes me feel sick all over again.

I try to push these disturbing thoughts away from my mind as the music starts up. We have the coolest band to lead worship. I can really get into the clapping and the songs and everything. And before I know it, Jessica LeCroix is the furthest thing from my mind. And from my heart.

But when Nathan shares about how God wants us to
love our enemies
, the only enemy I can think of is Jess. And I have absolutely no desire to love her. All I want to do is to forget her—to forget that I ever knew her. Okay, I finally do feel some conviction coming on. It starts when Nathan explains how we should
pray
for our enemies. I guess I can do that.

I can pray that God will show her that being gay is wrong, that it is sin against our Creator. I can pray that God will convict her heart and that she will rethink this whole crazy thing. I can pray that Jess will realize that she really isn’t a lesbian, and that she doesn’t even want to be. And I can pray that she will call me up tonight and that she will say that she was totally wrong and that she is terribly sorry. And that she’s taking it all back.

Hopefully she will take it all back before anyone, besides me and my mom, finds out.

I
USUALLY RIDE TO CHURCH WITH
J
ESS ON
S
UNDAY MORNINGS
. B
UT
I’
M NOT
terribly surprised when she doesn’t call or come by to get me. Mostly I’m relieved. I didn’t even bother to get dressed. I figured if by some weird chance she did show up, she would see that I was still in my pajamas, and I could pretend not to feel well. Of course, she would get my hidden meaning. But that seems the easiest route for the time being. No need to beat her over the head with how upsetting this behavior of hers is. At least not yet. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep my mouth shut. Surely, she must realize that I will have an opinion.

By eleven I feel pretty certain that I won’t be seeing her today. Big sigh. Although I’m still curious as to whether she went to church today. I’m sure her parents would go, since they rarely miss a service. And I imagine her older sister, Kaye, and Kaye’s husband and baby would be there. At least I guess they’d be there. But what if they already know about Jess’s big disclosure? What if they, like me, feel embarrassed and uncomfortable about this? What if they don’t want to be seen with her? Who can blame them?

I think people who decide to become gay should consider these things more carefully, especially before they jump out of the closet and scare everyone to death. They should think about how their
new “orientation” completely disorients others around them. They should consider the unfairness of their selfish and sinful choice, and how it hurts all the people who love and care about them. Like Jess’s older brother Alex. He’s in seminary right now, and he and Jess have always been close. She’s always looked up to him. And he was always so supportive of her. More than anyone else in her family, he encouraged her love of sports. What will Alex think of her now?

“You didn’t go to church,” Mom brilliantly observes as she comes into the living room with her newspaper and a cup of coffee.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Still stewing over Jess?”

I shrug. “I just felt like sleeping in.”

Her brows give that little lift that’s meant to say she doesn’t believe me. But she just sips her coffee and opens her paper.

Relieved that she doesn’t plan to “practice” any counseling techniques on me right now, which I think is considered unethical and maybe even illegal, I get up and go to my room, where I pop in a CD and flop down on my bed. I need to think. Really, what am I going to do about this? Is there anything I can do? I mean besides pray? I’ve been begging and begging God, asking him to do something to undo the mess Jess has made. And so that’s what I decide to do now. I will continue asking God to reveal to Jess that she’s made a big mistake. I ask him to show her that she’s really not gay, and she doesn’t want to be gay, and that homosexuality is a sin.

I keep on praying like this until I hear a knock at my door, which makes me jump, and I almost expect Jess to walk in. What would I do then?

“Hey, Ramie,” calls my mom. “I’m going to the fitness club with Brenda now. Do you want to come?”

“No thanks,” I call back.

“We might grab a bite to eat afterward,” she says.

I laugh. “Well, as long as you’re not going for pizza or cheeseburgers,” I warn her. “That might void your workout.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you later.”

I feel a little guilty for not going, since I was the one to talk Mom into joining the fitness club in the first place. To encourage her, I joined too. We got a great two-for-one deal, and during summer I used to go with her at least three times a week. But then her friend Brenda stepped in and joined the club, and since I get more than enough exercise with my sports during the school year, I have stepped out. My mom has had a weight problem since I can remember. She’s always going on some kind of diet, but then she cheats and ends up being even heavier than before. But the fitness club seems to be working. And it’s nice to see her shedding a few pounds. I know it makes her happier too. I’m glad to see she’s sticking with it.

Even so, the house feels really empty after Mom leaves, and it occurs to me that I don’t usually spend this much time here on my own. I suppose some people might think I was moping, or maybe just avoiding something—or
someone
. Usually Jess and I hang out together after church on Sundays. Sometimes I go to her house or sometimes we go out and try to find something to do. But suddenly I feel kind of alone. Kind of lonely.

Our townhouse has three levels. The first level has the garage and the master bedroom, my mom’s domain. The second level has a kitchen and family room that’s fairly spacious, with lots of windows that overlook a nice view of the rolling hills. The third level is all mine. It has a smaller bedroom and bath. But because it’s on the third level and my mom’s not exactly in great shape yet, she hardly ever comes up here. Consequently, it can get pretty messy. I blame this on my busy extracurricular schedule.

I mean, we just barely finished volleyball season, which happens to be my favorite sport. The state tournament was like, two weeks ago. I was disappointed that we only took third, but then some of our stronger players graduated last year. Anyway, I had all of four days to recover from volleyball and suddenly it’s basketball season. The truth is, I didn’t really want to play basketball. But Jess talked me into it. At the time I told myself that it would be a good way to stay in shape for spring soccer, my second favorite sport, and I can hold my own on the basketball court besides. But now I’m starting to wonder.

So I blame my packed schedule for the condition of the third floor, and if Mom ever came up here, I’m sure I could create a convincing defense. But since I have nothing better to do today, and I’m tired of thinking about
stuff
, I decide to roll up my sleeves and clean up my space. As I work, I tell myself that maybe God is watching me. Maybe he’ll be pleased with my obedience (because Mom really does expect me to keep this part of the house clean), and he’ll honor me by answering my prayers in regard to Jess. Anyway, it seems a good theory as I crank up my CD player and turn this cleaning routine into an aerobic workout.

Finally, it’s almost five o’clock. I’ve just hauled the last basket of clean laundry back upstairs and am putting the still warm-from-the-dryer sheets on my bed when I hear my cell phone ringing from inside my purse. But I don’t want to answer it, since Jess is about the only one who ever calls me on my cell phone. Well, besides my mom, that is. And if it is Jess, which I’m sure is the case, I don’t want to talk. Just the same, I grab the phone and check the caller ID, but it’s a number I don’t recognize. So I decide to risk it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Ramie,” says a guy’s voice. “This is Mitch.”

“Hey, Mitch,” I reply as I fall backward onto my half-made bed with huge, enormous relief, not to mention a bunch of curiosity. “What’s up?”

“I got your cell phone number from the youth-group directory at church,” he tells me. “Hope you don’t mind.”

I laugh. “Not at all. It’s not like I’m trying to stay unlisted or anything.”

“Well, I was just thinking about you today and I wondered if you’d like to see a movie or something?”

I sit up straight now. Is this for real? Is Mitch really asking me out? Does he actually want to take
me
on a real date? No, I tell myself, it’s probably just a friendly kind of thing. He’s just being nice. Well, whatever!

“Yeah, sure,” I tell him in a calm voice, trying to hold back my enthusiasm. No need to look too desperate. I mean it’s not like I’ve never gone out with a guy before. Even if it was only once.

“Cool.” Then he tells me the title of the movie, and it turns out to be something I actually wanted to see. “Pick you up a little before seven then?”

“Sounds good.” I’m doing the mental math now. My curfew on school nights is ten, and I think I’m safe.

After I hang up, I do a happy dance! I turn up my music even louder and I totally get down in my nicely cleaned room. This is so cool!
So cool!
In some ways it almost makes up for this thing with Jess. Almost. Anyway, it will be a good distraction. Not just for me either, because I’m thinking that if by some miracle I can get Mitch seriously interested in me, as in dating regularly, well, maybe that will distract others from drawing any false conclusions about me and my
ex
–best friend. I can only hope.

When Mom gets home, I’ll tell her the news. And here’s one of the benefits of having a liberal type of mom. She’ll be totally cool with it. She doesn’t have problems with me dating. Well, as long as I don’t get pregnant. Seriously, she’s not even too opposed to premarital sex. I know this for a fact since she’s given me her little sex talk enough times. “Just make sure that you always use protection,” she’s warned me more times than I care to recall. “And make sure that you save that first time for someone really special.”

Of course, this just makes me laugh, and then I usually end up telling her something like, “Yeah, someone special—
like my husband on my wedding night!”
Of course, then she just gives me that patronizing smile of hers, like she knows everything about everything, and I am still so young and inexperienced. But I do plan to prove her wrong. Someday, she will be at my wedding, like ten or more years from now, and she will know that I remained a virgin, and she will know that I chose to wait, to save myself, and she will see that my husband is so glad that I did, and that God is going to bless our marriage . . .

“Ramie,” calls my mom from downstairs.

I go and stick my head out over the landing. “Did you have a good workout?” I ask in pleasant voice.

She tosses me a slightly guilty smile. “Yes, we did. Although we probably overindulged afterward.” Then she confesses to getting the big-size sandwich at Schlotzky’s. “And chips! But I brought you a pastrami on rye,” she says, holding up a red-and-green bag.

“Sounds good,” I tell her. “I’ve been cleaning my room all day and I’m starving!”

“Wow.” She looks impressed. “Good for you, Ramie.”

“And I’m going to the movies with Mitch Bryant tonight. He’ll be here in about half an hour,” I say as I run down the stairs to retrieve the food.

She nods. “Have I met Mitch before?”

I kind of laugh. Like has Mom met any guys that I know before? The only place where Mom ever meets my friends is at my games, which doesn’t happen all that often, since she doesn’t come to that many anymore. And then the friends she meets are usually girls.