On My Own (15 page)

“Your mom said you have two brothers,” I said after
we'd ordered and our tea was served.

“Yeah. They're a lot older than me. And I'm pretty sure they think I'm a spoiled brat and just slightly neurotic.”

I smiled. “Your parents seem nice.”

“Yeah, they're pretty nice. Remember when you thought that I came from some pitiful broken home?” She laughed. “Told you, you were wrong.”

“And you know what's funny? My parents almost split up a couple years ago. They were having some serious problems.”

“But they stuck it out?”

“Yeah. And they're actually both really happy now.”

“Even if my parents despised each other, they'd be too afraid to get a divorce.”

“Afraid?”

“Yeah, at what the church would say.”

“Oh,” Suddenly it got a little too quiet. “So how do you feel about your finals next weeks?”

She shrugged. “It'll be fine.”

“When are you going home?”

“I'm not sure that I am.”

“You're kidding? You don't want to go home? I can't wait.”

“Yeah, I'm sure your parents just welcome you with open arms. Your mom probably cooks all your favorite dishes, and they don't even make you help clean up.”

“Well, you're partly right. But I'll bet your parents are
just the same. I mean, they seem like they really love you, Liz.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, without a doubt. They love me. But it's a pretty conditional kind of love, if you ask me.”

“How's that?”

“Well, it's under the condition that someday, somehow, someway I'm going to start acting just like them.”

“Like how?”

“You know. Like church stuff and all that religious rot.”

“Oh.” Now I considered how it seemed like she was bringing all this stuff up, not me, and so I decided to see how far she wanted to take it. “Your mom told me that you used to be pretty involved in church.”

She laughed sarcastically. “Now I'll bet that really threw you for a loop. Liz Banks a church girl? Pretty weird, huh?”

I didn't admit that Rachel had hinted about the same thing. “Yeah, it was a little hard to believe. But your mom said you chucked it all during high school.”

“Yep.” Her face grew dark. “I realized it was all just a bunch of stupid nonsense in the middle of my junior year. And that was the end of that.”

“You know what's ironic about that?”

“Oh, no.” She groaned. “Here comes that sermon I knew I'd get before my time with you was over. I suppose it's the cost of the meal for me.”

I laughed and held up my hands. “No, no. I'm not going to preach, I promise.”

Then our meal was served. And for Liz's sake I said a silent blessing in my heart, and without missing a beat I continued. “No, I was just going to tell you about how my life was really turning into a mess during my junior year. I mean, I was partying and drinking and lying and fighting with my parents–kind of out of control.”

“Hey, we could've been friends.”

“Maybe. But the whole time I was unhappy.”

“Okay,
now
here it comes. This is where you say, ‘but then I got saved and my life has been just beautiful ever since.’”

“Not exactly. But you're right. I did come to know God, and He helped me make some change in my life that have really made me a lot happier. But even so, my life's still got plenty of problems.” I didn't mention how she'd been one of the biggest ones of late.

“Well, you know what, Caitlin? That's just great for you. But it doesn't work for me anymore.” She took a bite of noodles then continued. “Just the same, I'm starting to realize that I've been particularly antagonistic lately, maybe even bitter, especially toward you. And I guess I'm seeing that it's not very fair. I know it's inappropriate to take out my troubles on you. I can see that now. And for that I'm sorry.”

I stared at her in surprise. “That's okay.”

“No, it's not okay. I mean, my problems really had nothing to do with you. And I'm sure it's just been my warped way to work out my unresolved issues regarding–you know, church stuff.”

“So, have you resolved them?”

I could tell by her expression that she hadn't. “You know, Caitlin, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry, but I'd rather not talk about this.”

“Sure, no problem. No sense in spoiling a perfectly good meal. How's your Phad Thai?”

“Really good. You want to try a bite?”

And so for the rest of our meal, we managed to make fairly pleasant small talk. And if people casually observed us, I'm sure they might've assumed we were friends. Perhaps we made a small step in the direction of friendship tonight. If so, it was truly a God thing. I know I never could have orchestrated it. Still, even as I write this, I'm wondering what was it that happened to Liz to make her so bitter against the church? It seems more than just a flippant adolescent decision on her part. In fact, I'm certain something must've happened that hurt her deeply–like what I've heard Tony describe as a “mortal wound”–something that only God can heal. Was it an unanswered prayer, a deep disappointment, or perhaps something much worse? I'll probably never know since she seems pretty determined not to talk about it. Still, I feel hopeful. And I'll keep praying for her.

Ahhh, my first term
in college is officially over. Had my last final this afternoon. And I'm feeling pretty good about my classes too. Of course, I won't know for sure until I see my grades. Still, I'm hopeful.

Between finals yesterday, I walked past a gift shop on campus and was suddenly hit with the idea of getting Liz a Christmas present. I know it seems kind of crazy, especially when I haven't even gotten my family anything yet, plus as usual I'm penny-pinching. But then I thought, maybe God is leading me. As it turned out, I think He was. So I walked into this store with absolutely no idea what I could get her. She's the most cynical girl I've ever known, and I felt sure she'd think I was being silly or sentimental or manipulative or who knows what else to give her a Christmas present in the first place. I mean, it's just the way she thinks.

So I kept walking around, praying that God would guide me, and then suddenly I saw it. I have to admit that it seemed pretty childish, but it's like I just
knew
it was the right thing. I'd spotted this stuffed charcoal-colored lamb with a little bell on it. I picked it up and it was really soft and sweet. Still, I wasn't really convinced, especially since it looked pretty much like a child's toy, and I felt certain Liz would think this was totally juvenile. So I set the lamb down and walked away. I kept looking and looking around the store, just wasting time really because all I could think about was that goofy little lamb. Finally, I went back, picked it up, and bought it.

“Do you want it gift-wrapped?” asked the clerk.

“Sure.”

“Is it for a baby?”

“No.” I felt my cheeks grow warm. “Actually, it's a Christmas present for my roommate.”

The woman nodded. “Oh, that's nice, dear. I'll be right back.”

I felt ridiculous. Why was I buying a child's toy for someone like Liz?

So anyway, I decided I wouldn't give it to her until I leave for Christmas break. Bryce has offered me a ride home tomorrow afternoon, after he finishes his last final. I thought I'd just leave the package on her desk and quietly slip away. That way if she hated it or made fun of it, I wouldn't have to be around to feel humiliated or get mad at her.

I spent most of this evening packing up my things to
move up to Jessica's room. I thought it would be easier to do this now rather than having to scramble when I come back after the New Year. I was just taking down my photos of the Mexican kids from my bulletin board when Liz walked in.

“Hey,” I called over my shoulder.

“What're you doing?”

“Just packing up to move.”

She walked over and stood behind me. “I've always kind of wondered who all those kids in the photos are?”

I turned, still holding a picture of little Rosa. “These are some of the kids I tried to help when I went down to Mexico last summer and the summer before. Do you know that there are children down there who live at dump sites and actually find their food and clothes amidst the trash?” I shook my head. “And we're talking about some pretty bad trash.”

“But what can you do to help them?”

“It actually doesn't take much. Showing up at the dump with something as simple as a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread is like Christmas for them. But some friends and I have worked to raise money to see that these kids get food on a more regular basis, and we've collected and sent clothing. Believe me, they're thankful for anything.”

“Cool.” She studied the photos. “I didn't realize you were such a philanthropist.”

I smiled. Compliments of any kind are always so unexpected from her. And although we'd been getting along
better since our dinner date last week, I still felt a chilly barrier between us. Almost as if she regretted opening up to me as much as she had.

“So you're really doing it then?” she asked. “Moving out, I mean.”

“I guess so.” I still wasn't entirely sure it was the right choice, but Kim and Lindsey had both been pushing me. In fact, they'd even offered to come down tonight and help me cart everything upstairs.

She nodded. “Well, I figured you would. Can't say that I blame you. I know I've been detestable at times.”

I stared at her face as she looked down at the floor. She looked so sad and lost and vulnerable–almost like a little girl. I didn't know what to say. “So are you going home for Christmas then?” I asked dumbly.

She pressed her lips together then let out a long sigh. “I don't know.”

“Oh.” I noticed the package I'd gotten for her, still in its bag, next to my bed. Oh, why not? “I …uh …I have something for you.”

She looked up. “Huh?”

I pulled the package out of the bag and shoved it toward her. “Here.” I forced a stiff smile to my face.

“What's this?”

“It's kind of dumb, but I just–”

“Did you know–?” She stopped herself.

“Know?”

“Oh, nothing.” She was staring at the box with a
serious expression; then to my surprise she broke into a smile. “It's my birthday tomorrow.”

“You're kidding!”

“Yeah. And I thought–”

“Well, happy birthday then! Aren't you going to open it?”

“You want me to?”

“Sure.” I could feel my face growing warm when I imagined what she might say about the silly, childish toy. “It's really nothing, I don't even know why …”

But she was already tearing into it. And then she had the lamb in her hands and was staring at it without speaking or anything.

“Like I said, it's pretty silly. I don't know exactly why I–”

“Did my mom tell you something?” Her eyes were narrowed now, in that old familiar, hostile way, almost like she wanted to smack me or something.

“No.” I took a step back. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head, her features softening some. “Oh, nothing. It's just kind of weird.”

“I'm sorry. I told you it was just a really dumb impulse. You can give it away if you want–” But I stopped when I saw what looked like tears filling her eyes. Then I watched as she walked over to her bed and sat down.

I walked over and sat on my bed across from her. “What's wrong, Liz?”

She shook her head again. “It's just that this reminds me of a toy I had when I was a little girl. But I threw it away, back when …”

Somehow I knew. “When you turned your back on God.”

She looked up. “How did you know?”

“Good guess, I suppose. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don't know. I've never really talked to anyone …”

Now I got up and sat down right next to her. I'm not even sure what made me do it–I can only say that it must've been God directing me because I know I never would've done that on my own. “Liz, I know you don't really think of me as your friend exactly, but if you want to talk, I promise you can trust me.”

She exhaled loudly. “Yeah. I believe I can.”

“And I promise all I'll do is listen, okay? I won't try to tell you what to do or preach at you or anything. And if you want, I'll never even bring it up again.”

She nodded. “It's a humiliating story–something I just wish I could forget. But I can't. No matter how hard I try I cannot wipe it from my memory.” She ran her hand over the lamb's fleece. “I was really involved in the youth group at my church during my first two years of high school. I thought I was a pretty good Christian too.” She looked at me. “Like you. But now I even question that. Our youth leader was this really great-looking guy in his midtwenties. His name was Glen, and I guess I was slightly infatuated with him from the start. Of course, he was married, and they had a little girl and another child on the way. But I had what I'd best describe as a schoolgirl crush. The weird thing was that Glen always seemed really interested in me too. Whenever he needed help
with a project or setting up refreshments or even baby-sitting, he'd call me. And, of course, I always came running. Sometimes we'd stay after youth group just to talk and stuff. And well …” She held the lamb up to her face and closed her eyes tightly.

I could feel my heart pounding with the realization, or maybe it was just the suspicion, that something was really wrong with this story. Still, I wasn't quite sure what to say or how to say it. Finally I found my voice. “Did he touch you, Liz?”