Who I Am (14 page)

“Well, I'm a grown woman,” said Lynn, chest out and hands on hips. “Not a little high school girl. I know how to take care of myself.”

Beanie groaned. “Yeah, sure, Mom. Tell me another one.”

Suddenly an idea hit me–maybe it was from God, or maybe I'd read it in a book somewhere, but right now I can call it nothing but inspired! “Hey, Lynn,” I said as I stepped between the two of them. “Would you marry this Rod guy?”

Lynn laughed. “I may be stupid but I'm not crazy.”

I pointed my finger in the air (just like Inspector Gadget). “Well, if you wouldn't marry him, then why would you want to waste your time going out with him?”

I could tell I had her thinking now, but she didn't answer.

“And so what if you're wasting your time going out with this–this loser, according to Beanie, and what if your Mr. Right is out there somewhere just waiting for you to wise up?” I peered into her face. “I mean, have you ever thought about that?”

She frowned. “Not exactly.”

Now Beanie stepped in, her voice much gentler this time. “Mom, you've told me that you want God to direct your life, right?”

Lynn nodded, glancing at her watch nervously.

“Well, do you think God wants you going out with Rod?”

Lynn tightly closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, then finally said, “No. Probably not.” Then she sank onto the couch and sighed. “But what am I supposed to do now? He'll be here any minute.”

“Do you want us to hang around until he gets here?” I offered.

“Yeah, Mom, we could be your moral support.”

So we stuck around until Rod (who honestly did seem a little bit like a loser to me too, although I'm trying not to judge) came and honked his horn. Then Beanie offered to run out and tell him that Lynn couldn't make it tonight (which suited Lynn just fine). I'm not sure what else Beanie told him, but hopefully she wasn't too hard on the poor guy. Then we invited Lynn to go to the movie with us, and we all had a great time. Girls' night out after all!

Well, I picked up
Chloe this afternoon to take her to the mall (most girls like to go there). But I wasn't prepared for the girl who answered the door. The last time I saw Chloe she was wearing her soccer uniform with her long brown hair pulled back in a neat ponytail–like the all-American girl, right? Well, the girl I picked up today had a spiky, butch haircut (dyed jet black with bleached tips) and a pierced belly button, not to mention numerous piercings in her ears. Her pants were riding so low I was afraid we'd see the moon rising before the sun went down. And her T-shirt (which could've been cute if it hadn't been ripped down the front and several sizes too small) looked like it had never seen the inside of a washing machine.

I couldn't believe Josh's parents (who I'd thought were fairly conservative, church-going type people) would let her out of the house like that. But I tried really hard to be totally cool, not acting the least surprised. I mean, I
see kids like this all the time at school, and it's not like it's some great big deal, but to see Josh's kid sister like that–well, it kind of blew me away, I guess. And I can understand Josh's concern now.

Chloe and I walked around the mall for a while, and it was quickly obvious that our taste in fashion differed greatly, although I've had some experience here (with Beanie) so I tried to just chill and be a good sport. And I think she was surprised that I wasn't being all critical of the stuff she liked. Then we stopped to get a snack and I decided to just cut to the chase.

“I'm sure you're probably thinking it's pretty weird for me to want to spend time with you,” I began.

She kind of shrugged and took a loud sip on her soda. “Whatever turns you on.”

I laughed. “Well, like I said, Josh really cares about you, and he thought we'd like to get to know each other.”

“You mean he wants you to take me on as some kind of pet project–like, “Let's do a makeover on Chloe” or something equally lame. Like you guys think you're playing Pygmalion or something.”

“You know about Pygmalion?”

She shrugged again. “Yeah, you know, like
My Fair Lady
–you find the most socially objectionable person and you try to remake them into something acceptable and totally boring.”

I felt my brows shoot up. Chloe was no average fourteen-year-old girl. “No, no,” I kind of stammered. “That's not what this is about–”

“Then what IS it about?” she demanded, thunking her drink cup down.

“I'm not even sure,” I said. “But I think Josh felt like you could use a friend.”

“I have friends.”

“I mean someone older.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have parents.”

“Yeah, I know. But sometimes parents can be pretty thick.”

“You're telling me.”

“And I know you're going into high school next year and that can be kind of scary.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I'm not scared.”

“Okay, maybe scared was the wrong word. But it's like everything is changing–and sometimes things can change real fast–and then there's friends and boyfriends and it can get rough.”

I thought I saw her face soften just then. But she didn't say anything.

“Do you have a boyfriend, Chloe?”

Her expression grew hard again. “What do you care?”

Okay, now I was praying silently, feeling like I was in way over my head with this fourteen-year-old. “Well, I could be wrong, but I'm thinking you've been hurt, and maybe by a guy.”

She looked slightly curious. “What makes you think that?”

“Just intuition, I guess.”

She shrugged again then leaned back, tipping her
chair onto two legs as she plunked a heavy Doc Marten boot onto the small table. “Everybody gets hurt, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I've been hurt too.”

She rolled her eyes again, but I could tell there was some interest flickering there too. “Did my brother hurt you?”

“Yep. He pretty much broke my heart once.”

“But you guys are still friends?”

I smiled. “Well, I kind of broke his heart too. At least that's what he said. But you might not want to repeat that to anyone.”

“So are you guys back together again?”

“Not as in dating. But like you said, we're still friends.”

Now she looked slightly puzzled.

“Do you want to talk about the guy who broke your heart? You can trust me not to repeat anything.”

She removed her boot from the table, leaned forward, and proceeded to spill out a story that almost made me cry (but I controlled myself). Apparently she'd had a severe crush on a certain popular boy throughout junior high. And finally in eighth grade (after he'd gone through numerous girlfriends), this boy actually noticed her. Before long they started “dating” (which mostly means they hung out together since he didn't drive or anything). But the relationship quickly became pretty serious, and after just a couple of weeks, he started pressuring Chloe to have sex with him. And though she was a virgin (and only fourteen!), she was eager to keep
him and wanted to prove she was “really mature,” and so she agreed. But when the actual time came, she got kind of upset and scared, and suddenly she backed out (which made him really mad!). And the next day, he broke up with her in school, but not until he told everyone that they'd “done it.” (She thinks it was so he'd look like the big stud.) And suddenly her friends started treating her differently, and she was so depressed about the whole thing that she started pulling away from her so-called friends.

“I haven't told anyone what really happened,” she finished, her eyes slightly misty but hard as stone. “Mostly because I doubt if they'd believe me anyway. And after what Andy said, I know they all think I'm a slut. Even my best friend–well, she used to be my best friend.”

I reached over and put my hand on her arm. “Thanks for telling me all this, Chloe. It's so unfair.”

She took in a deep breath then sat up straight, kind of defiant-like. “Yeah, but that's life, isn't it? I mean, we're supposed to get kicked around a little–used and abused, you know. It's just the way it goes.”

I shook my head. “It doesn't have to go like that.”

“Well, if you don't experience pain, then how do you know you're really alive?”

“I don't mean that life will ever be pain–free. I know mine sure isn't. But last year I gave my life to God, and now when I experience pain it's not as bad as it used to be. I mean, it's not like I'm going through everything all on
my own anymore, you know? It's like I have someone to talk to–someone who cares and can make a difference.”

“You actually talk to God?”

I nodded. “All the time.”

“Do you really think He's listening?”

“I do. I'm certain of it.”

She started fiddling with her cup, tearing the top into little jagged spikes. “Well, I still believe in God, at least I think I do. But I don't go to church with my parents anymore. Actually I think they're relieved. I'm pretty sure they're embarrassed by me.” She stuck out her chin. “And I don't give a rip. Because I happen to like the way I look.”

“Is that because it keeps people at a distance?”

I could see a little bit of a smirk sneaking onto her lips. “Maybe…”

“So do you feel safer this way?”

“Maybe…sometimes anyway.”

“You mentioned someone who used to be your best friend?”

“Yeah. Jessie–she was a real, true friend! I mean, as soon as I started acting different she started pulling away. And then when I started changing the way I look, man, she just took off running the other direction like I was contagious with herpes or something.”

Then I told Chloe about Beanie, and how that had been a little trying for me sometimes, but we'd weathered it, and I was really thankful for her friendship now. She seemed to appreciate that.

“I remember when Beanie dyed her hair bright blue,” I told her, suppressing giggles. “But after a few days, she didn't really like how it looked, but even so she didn't want to change it back–she was afraid everyone would think she'd wimped out. So she just left it blue for about a month or so.”

“Then what?”

“I think she put a reddish color on next, but then it ended up looking like fuchsia.”

Chloe laughed. “I'll bet it was cool.”

Then we talked some more, and I realized it was getting late and I'd promised Mom that I'd be home in time for dinner. I asked Chloe if she wanted to do this again sometime and she said sure, and I'm pretty certain she meant it.

“Call or e-mail me anytime you want to talk,” I told her as I dropped her off.

“You sure?”

“Of course, I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.”

Then she thanked me–and I could tell it was sincere.

All right! The fair's all set. Well, almost anyway. We still have a lot of details to tie down. But we had our first meeting tonight (about a dozen of us and the official planning committee), and everyone voted unanimously to call it All God's Children. We'll have it on Saturday, May 25. Martha Anderson (who's on city council) is going to see if we can hold the event at the park. And Tony suggested we might even invite the other churches in town to participate.

Even though I strongly protested, they all voted and decided that I was to be chairman of the committee. I must admit that I'm pleased to do it. I just hope I can do a good job. I mean, I have work and graduation isn't too far away and–oh, I'll just have to pray that God helps me to make good choices. And like Martha pointed out, just because I'm the chairman doesn't mean I have to do all the work. There are lots of people willing to help out. She was already making a list of businesses to ask to sponsor booths and things. It was exciting hearing everyone throw out ideas and stuff. If we can do even half the things we talked about, the fair should be a huge success.

No one had any problem with the proceeds going to the kids in Mexico. Although Tony suggested that perhaps this might become a yearly event and maybe a new group could be selected each year to benefit from the proceeds. Steph agreed, saying that would probably help
other churches to get involved too, since they might have specific ministries they'd like to help out–and it would be more democratic. And so, it's all set. And I'm so excited.

Chloe called me up tonight, and I could tell by the flat sound of her voice that she was depressed. She's really feeling out of it at school–alone, picked on, a misfit…And while I wanted to tell her that it might be her own doing, I just couldn't bring myself to say those words (besides, she must know). So I mostly listened for a long time, and then I finally told her that what I think she's really longing for is a relationship with God. I told her how Jesus died so that she could be forgiven and have a relationship with God. She listened but didn't respond. Then I told her I could remember exactly how she felt, because it wasn't that long ago when I was there too, but I also said that without God we'll always be lonely (whether we're on the inside or the outside or somewhere
in between). I told her that I loved her and cared about her and that I'd be praying for her. I told her that I believed God had really great things in store for her, and that this was just His way of getting her there. I think she might've been crying by then, but she covered it up pretty well. Finally, she said she had homework to do and hung up. And I've been praying for her off and on all night.