On My Own (9 page)

“Why don't you keep your hands off my boyfriend?” demanded Liz. And suddenly both girls were yelling and cussing all over again.

“You know this isn't really our problem,” said Kim loudly. “Maybe we should just let you two go at it, so you can
really
mess each other up.”

I glanced uneasily at Kim. This didn't seem like a very good solution to me. Despite my problems with Liz, I do have some protective feelings toward her. And I even hoped we'd been making some progress toward friendship.

“Fine,” snapped Rachel holding up her fist of hair, “I'd be happy to pull it all out!”

“I thought you guys were friends,” I said. “Are you really going to let a guy come between you like this?”

“Friends?”
Rachel spat out the word. “Liz isn't anybody's friend.” She looked at me. “You should know that as well as anyone, Caitlin! Just look at the way she treats you!”

I glanced over at Liz and noticed how bright her dark eyes looked–was it possible that she was really
about to cry? I'd never seen her shed a single tear.

“You two just need to chill,” said Lindsey. “Why don't we walk you up to your rooms?” Then without allowing time for a response, she and Kim began to escort Rachel toward the elevator. I stayed behind with Liz, not exactly sure of what I should do.

“Are you okay?” I asked dumbly, knowing as soon as the words were out that I was setting myself up for a snide comeback. But she didn't say anything. By now the bystanders had thinned out, but I waited a few minutes before I suggested we go up to our room.

We walked silently up the stairs, the sounds of our footsteps echoing through the stairwell. Liz's were slow and flat sounding, unlike her usual sharp, no-nonsense steps. I prayed that God would give me the right things to say, but had no idea what that would be.

Finally we were in our room, and I asked Liz if she wanted me to fix her a cup of cocoa. She sat down on her bed and nodded without speaking. I kept praying silently as I moved about mixing the packages of cocoa with water, then waiting for the microwave to heat them.

“Here,” I handed her the cup then sat down on my bed with mine. “If you want to talk, I'm willing to listen. But I'll understand if you don't.”

She took several sips without speaking.

“I know you don't think I have what it takes to be your friend, Liz. And I know you don't like how God is so important to me. But I want you to know that I'm here for
you. Even if you don't want to be a friend to me, I'd like to be a friend to you.”

But still she said nothing. And usually it really bugs me when someone won't talk or respond, but for some reason it didn't this time. I just got out my books and started doing homework. Then after a while I slipped in a CD, a quiet one, and let it play softly. The next time I looked over to check on Liz, she was fast asleep.

Now it's almost ten and she's still sleeping. I feel really sorry for her, but I don't know if there's anything I can do. Other than keep praying for her, of course. But I know that ultimately she's the one who has to make some changes in her life. And I really think God is trying to get her attention. I just hope she'll listen.

It's been a fairly quiet and uneventful week. A relief, I suppose, after last weekend's little episode with Liz. She's been pretty subdued, and actually seems to be more involved in her studies. But I don't feel we've made any actual progress in the friendship area. After
yesterday's conversation with Rachel, I seriously wonder if we ever will.

I ran into Rachel after my last class, and to be honest I was a little frightened. I mean, she was pretty upset last weekend and could've assumed my allegiance was with Liz (although I'm really not taking sides here). At first I pretended not to see her, but it was obvious she was heading straight toward me.

“I've been wanting to talk to you, Caitlin.”

“Oh, uh–”

She must've read my expression. “Oh, don't worry; I'm not going to assault you or anything. I just want to talk. Do you have time for a Coke or something?”

I shrugged, still not sure this was a wise thing to do. I couldn't imagine what might happen if Liz spotted us together, but then something about Rachel's expression made me curious. “Okay, I guess I have time.”

We ducked into a diner and were barely seated when Rachel started spilling her guts. First she told me how upset she'd been over the fight on Sunday, how she's never been involved in anything like that before. But how Liz pushed her way too far over this thing with Jordan. Then she said how she'd been friends with Liz since their junior year in high school. Not really best friends, mind you, but pretty good friends.

“For Liz, that is.” She paused to sip her drink.

“What do you mean?”

She eyed me. “I think you know what I mean. Liz has, shall we say, a somewhat prickly personality.”

I nodded. “She's a bit on the cool side.”

“And even though I'm still pretty mad at her and feel fairly certain my friendship with her is finished, I'm a little concerned for her.”

“Yeah. So am I.”

“And since you're her roommate, I thought maybe I should clue you in to a few things about her.”

I felt my brows arch. Although I was curious, I wasn't sure if this was right or not. What if Rachel was trying to turn me against Liz too? Still, I figured I could take the advice with a grain of salt (as my grandma would say).

“Liz grew up in a pretty religious family–”

“No way! You're kidding!”

She nodded. “Yep. You'd never know it, would you?”

“But she seems so anti–”

“Oh, yeah, she ditched the whole church thing back in high school.” Rachel glanced around then lowered her voice. “I think something bad happened to her, something to do with her church, and it just really turned her against the whole religion scene.” She looked at me. “Now I know you're pretty into church and stuff, and I don't mean to offend you, but it's not my thing. I just think that something bad went down with Liz, you know?”

“Did she ever mention anything specific?”

“No. Whatever it was happened before we became friends. We didn't start hanging together until the end of our junior year.” Rachel laughed. “I was actually pretty wild compared to her–I mean, before she started
changing, that is. We didn't really have much in common before that.”

I felt like my head was spinning as I attempted to take it all in. “But why are you telling me this?”

“I guess because, despite what happened last week, I still care about her. Even though she tries to act all cool and unaffected, she really feels things deeply, and this stuff with Jordan and me is probably hitting her a lot harder than it appears …”

“And?”

“And I'm sort of worried that she might do something, you know …something stupid.”

Suddenly I remembered Jewel Garcia. “Are you suggesting that she might–” But I couldn't even bring myself to say it.

Rachel nodded solemnly. “I've been around her at other times when she's been pretty depressed, and she's talked about how meaningless life is and how it's not worth the effort and all kinds of dark stuff like that.” She sighed. “And, hey, I might not be religious or anything, but I do believe in God or some kind of Supreme Being, and I think there must be some sort of purpose in life, enough anyway that would keep me from giving up on it altogether.”

“But you think Liz might.”

“I just don't know for sure. You know, I've heard that some people just talk about it but never really do it.”

“Yeah, well some people actually do.” I felt a surge of
irritated anger rising up in me just then. Like, how did I get pulled into something like this again? I mean, I came here to go to school, then got this whacked-out roommate with all these issues, and now I have to contend with the possibility that she might actually try to do herself in. Sheesh, what's up with this anyway? Okay, okay, I know I'm sounding pretty self-centered and insensitive, but that's how I felt. Then I told Rachel a little about Jewel and how her breakup with her boyfriend pushed her over the edge.

“She didn't die right off,” I continued in what I know must've sounded like an unemotional voice. “She suffered brain damage from the bullet wound but slowly started recovering. We actually thought she was going to make it, but then she started hemorrhaging and finally went into a coma and died.”

Rachel shook her head. “I'm sorry.”

I looked into her eyes and felt a little surprised at the sincere concern I saw there. “Yeah, me too. Jewel hadn't been a really close friend before the–uh, suicide attempt, but afterward I spent a lot of time visiting her in the hospital. And I really prayed for her to get well …”

“But she didn't.”

I thought about that. “Actually, she did. I believe that people are made completely whole and well in heaven.”

A somewhat skeptical look darkened her face. “Are you saying you actually believe that someone who
shoots
herself will go to heaven–if there is a heaven, that is?”

“I believe it with my whole heart. Jewel became a Christian in the hospital, and I have no doubt that she's in heaven right now.”

“Well, you have a lot of faith.”

“Actually, I only had a little bit of faith–to start with anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I first decided to give my life to God, I wasn't that sure I could even do it. I mean, I had a tiny bit of faith, but that was all. Then after I made the decision, it's like God suddenly gave me more faith. He's the one who gives us the faith to follow Him. We just have to choose to accept it.”

“Wow, I've never heard anything like that.”

Now I'm sure my face must've lit up then, and suddenly Rachel was holding up both hands. “Slow down, church girl, this doesn't mean I'm interested,” she said quickly. “I don't want you to get your hopes up, thinking you can save me or anything.”

I laughed. “It's all right. I know I can't save anyone. And don't worry, I won't start following you around or knocking you over the head with my Bible or anything.”

She sighed. “Good. You had me worried there.”

“But I might be praying for you.”

She smiled. “Well, that's okay. I could probably use some prayers. Just don't expect any big response on my part.”

I thought about my roommate. “So do you have any suggestions about Liz?”

“I really don't know what to tell you.” She grinned. “I'm sure you're already praying for her.”

“Yeah, but it doesn't look as if that's helping much.” I kind of wished I hadn't said that, but it was honest and how I felt.

“I guess just watch out for any bad signs. And try to be her friend.”

I groaned. “Oh, yeah, that's easy enough.”

“I know. Jordan and I can't quite figure that one either. It's not easy being her friend. And really, Jordan's a decent guy, but Liz just scares him off. She scares me a little too.”

“To be perfectly honest, she scares me too, but I believe God is bigger, and for some reason He's put me in her life. So I guess I'll just have to hang in there–at least for now.”

And even as I'm sitting here now, I must admit the idea of a possibly suicidal roommate really freaks me out. And as much as I'm trying to lean on God, I feel uncertain. I think I may give my uncle Tony a call tomorrow. Even though I'm not living at home, I still consider him to be my pastor. Hopefully, he'll have some good insight or advice. In the meantime, I'll really be praying hard for Liz. In fact, I think I'll e-mail everyone I know and ask them to pray specifically for her. And who knows what God might do!

Despite Rachel's warning
about Liz, we made it through the weekend intact. And I haven't seen any sign of firearms, sleeping pills, or nooses hanging around. Okay, I know I must sound awfully cynical (maybe Liz is wearing off on me), but I guess it's the only way I can get through this stuff right now. And it's not that I don't take Rachel's concerns seriously–I most definitely do! I just don't want to dwell on it too much. Instead I try to pray and keep my eyes wide open.

But speaking of Rachel, it hits me as slightly ironic that I suddenly feel closer to her (after one conversation) than I've ever felt with Liz. Of course, I wouldn't want Liz to know this because I'm certain that despite her cool demeanor she must still be totally furious at both Rachel and Jordan. Yet she hasn't said a word
about that whole thing. And she spent most of the weekend working on a psychology paper. I'm thinking perhaps she's throwing herself into her studies to distract herself from the pain in her life. Hey, it's better than doing nothing, and it's a whole lot better than killing yourself!

Okay, enough of that. Here's something that's got me thinking. A bunch of us took a bike ride on Saturday. (What a totally beautiful day it was with sunshine and crisp autumn air and colorful leaves everywhere!) And I noticed that Bryce seemed to be hanging out with me a lot, or maybe it's just because we wanted to go faster than the others. But when we finished our ride and all went out for pizza, he sat next to me, and eventually he told me that he and his girlfriend had broken up last week.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I said without really thinking. (Since that's pretty much the expected thing to say.)

“Yeah, I guess I should've seen it coming though.”

“Why's that?” I sipped my soda and glanced at Stephen and Lindsey, across the table. They were engaged in what seemed a very interesting discussion over whether women should be allowed to become pastors or not. But then I turned my attention back to Bryce.

“Oh, you know how it goes.” His voice sounded glum. “The e-mails were decreasing, and it was just a feeling I was getting, like something was about to die or maybe already had …”