Chapter 9 - Missionaries can't play in bands
“That looks disgusting,” Katie’s date, a hulk of a boy named Bodie, said pointing his fork ominously at Van. “Why you eat that crap, man?”

“I’m a vegetarian,” Van said slowly as if he thought Bodie might have taken a few too many knocks to the head during hockey practice.

“Well, I’m a full-blooded meat-a-tarian.” He laughed loudly and threw his arm around Katie who stiffened, the plastic smile on her face never faltering. “You know, it’s just not normal to eat like that.”

“But it’s normal to kill and masticate a living, breathing thing with feelings?” Van was staring down at his plate but I still slid his steak knife away from his plate, tucking it safely on the other side of mine.

“This cow ain’t got no feelings, trust me,” Bodie stabbed it viciously with his fork before laughing loudly again. I got the feeling that he thought we were having an amicable debate and I questioned again the wisdom of joining Katie and Stella’s group for our Junior Prom.

“Not now, it surely doesn’t,” Van retorted, “but did you ask it before you killed it?”

“Hmpf. I didn’t kill it,” Bodie replied in a flash of what I thought might have been budding social awareness but then he continued, “but I sure coulda!” Looking at Katie he struck a pose, his bicep straining at his white tux shirt. She nodded appreciatively but I could tell she was not having a good time. “Besides, you find a good dead thing, you eat it, I always say. No point in being wasteful.”

Van rolled his eyes and sighed, loudly dropping his fork on the table. “I’ll be right back,” he said to me and headed for the bathroom.

“Where’s he going now?” Katie snapped. “Run out of clean needles again?”

“Katie!” Stella gasped, prying herself off her date just long enough to look appropriately appalled.

“He’s doesn’t do drugs!” I exclaimed, unable to believe Katie would even go there, especially after I had told her everything about our talk on the beach. “He’s edge and that means-”

“Not a freaking thing to me,” Bodie finished and I glared at him.

“I can’t believe you!” I said, wounded, as Katie fiddled with her napkin.

“Since you brought up unbelievable,” she said, the steely edge in her voice again, “I can’t believe you brought him.”

“He’s her boyfriend!” Stella interjected on my behalf.

“Oh and you know everything about boyfriends don’t you, being the last in a long line of ex-girlfriends of Sweet Lou, the mini-mart god,” Katie said tartly and I saw Stella flush and close her mouth.

“Dude’s wearing a friggin’ skirt,” Bodie chimed in helpfully.

“It’s not a skirt, it’s a kilt!” I said, exasperated.

“A utility kilt, even,” Van said as he sat back down in his chair, taking gentle care to smooth out the aforementioned article of clothing. “Very handy for storage and it keeps the air circulating.” I didn’t add that paired with his white tuxedo shirt, bow tie and hairy legs, it didn’t exactly say Prom King.

“Might be,” Bodie replied, “but you’d wouldn’t catch me dead in one of those things.”

“I hope I never catch you dead,” Van said calmly. “Because then, according to your logic, I’d have to eat you.” He punched Bodie’s wide arm, “and you look like you have a lot of intramuscular fat in there so you’d probably clog my arteries.”

The dance went worse than dinner, if that was even humanly possible. The DJ played mostly slow, romantic songs – exactly the kind that Van hated and refused to dance to – and Katie kept up her incessant needling. It got to the point where I wondered if her entire purpose in saying “yes” to Bodie was just to be able to come here and torment Van. So when the dance ended and it was time to go to Katie’s house for dessert and movies until the wee hours of the morning, I wasn’t at all surprised to find Van looking for an out.

“You know, this has been great and all,” he said, not even remotely believable, “but I’m really tired and I’ve got practice early tomorrow. If you could just drop me by Jimmie’s on your way to Katie’s…”

Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the general crappiness of my first prom, maybe it was P.M.S. but something snapped. “Van! Jimmie’s house isn’t even in the same county as Katie’s! And besides, tonight was supposed be us hanging out with my friends for a change.” So what if Katie was being a jerk? I knew it was mostly because I’d blown her off so many times in the past few months and never hung out with her anymore. Truth was, I felt a little guilty for always giving her and Stella the shaft. Tonight was supposed to be our big blow out – the highlight of our high school career that we’d been dreaming about since we were ten – at least until Senior Prom next year.

“Look, I did the dance thing for you,” Van sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. The moonlight glinted off his sXe ring and I shook my head.

“Well I’m sorry that attending the Prom with me was such a trial for you, especially since I paid for everything! Free dinner, dancing and entertainment. Wow, that must have been really hard for you.”

“You forgot to add on the part about your best friend who happens to make the Furies look like peace-loving, tolerant old biddies.”

“She is not - ” I stammered, anger making me stupid. “She’s just -.”

“A harpy?”

“Van!” He was saved from further argument by his cell phone chirping.

“What?” he mumbled, flipping it open and punching a couple of buttons. I watched him ring his voice mail. He only listened for a second. “Oh sh-” he snapped it shut angrily. “Turn around!”

“What?” I snapped, not even slowing down.

“It’s Halley, something’s wrong.” He held his phone up to me but I didn’t look at it. “I missed like eight calls from Jimmie and now there’s this message from Halley and something’s definitely wrong!” He roundly cursed the cellular company, his phone and the dead zone that is the school gym until I pulled into a parking lot.

“What’s wrong?” I said quietly.

“I guess Jimmie went to a gig down in the U district and he was supposed to be back already but he’s not and…”

“Wait, Halley’s back with Jimmie?”

Van looked confused for a second, as if to say why wouldn’t she be back with Jimmie? But then shook it off and answered, “Well, not officially, but yeah she’s living there again. Really it’s for the best, he needs her and she, well, needs to be needed I guess.”

“But what about…?”

“Oh, Jimmie copped edge again the second Halley said she would come back. He’s really serious this time too, he really is.”

“Oh,” I said lamely. From what I had seen, I would have thought that last fight at Jimmie’s would have been a deal-breaker but then what do I know about relationships?

“Which really is kind of the problem.”

“Huh?”

“Well, whenever Jimmie falls and comes back, so to speak, he gets a little, uh, militant about it.”

“Militant?”

“Yeah, you know, like it’s his personal crusade to convert everyone to the edge ways. And he can get rather, uh, forceful.”

“You think he’s out there picking a fight somewhere?”

“Basically, yes.”

“And how is that different from what he usually does on the weekends?”

“Not just the usual fighting, no, when he gets like this he likes to, well, seek out a challenge.”

“Like…?”

“People that are notorious for drinking, drugs and fighting.”

“The U-district. Frat boys,” I said, the light suddenly going on.

“Riiiiight.”

“Ooooh, they’re going to beat the living tar out of him.”

“Right. It’s kind of like his penance, in a way.”

“Weird.”

“Right.”

“So, I guess we’d better go find him first?”

“Right.”

………

By the time we found the right frat house, the only thing left of Jimmie was a slew of broken beer bottles, an abused chair and a smattering of blood – on the ceiling.

“Oh that punk?” a guy who could have been Bodie’s older brother asked placidly. “You come to stop him or help him?”

“Uh,” Van stuttered.

“No matter,” the guy said, returning to his post and his beer by the front door, “he’s gone either way. A couple-a few brothers chased him out not long ago.”

“Couple-a…how many?” I asked.

“Six, maybe, ten” he shrugged. I peered over his broad shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of something that might help us find Jimmie. He smiled at me like I was a cute little kid in the grocery store. “You’re too young to come in here, sweetie.” Then he winked at me, “but if you want to lose the bodyguard, you can meet me around back. No ID checks that-a way.”

He laughed as Van put his arm possessively around me. “Where’d they go?”

“Aww, can’t help ya there bro. He was a-running, they were a-chasing. That’s all I’m saying.” He crossed his arms over his chest, the amused look suddenly gone from his face. “We don’t need that kind of trouble around here, so if you’re looking…”

“We’re leaving,” Van said simply.

“Whatever,” he shrugged again and then smiled at me, “but from the looks of your dress, I’m guessing your party isn’t much fun. Come back if you want to see how it’s really done.”

I blushed and quickly followed Van back across the lawn. It was true, my prom dress looked sadly wrinkled and out of place without the gentle lighting and ambiance of the high school gym. “Where would he go?” I asked breathlessly as I caught up with Van. Running in heels was no piece of cake either.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” he paced quickly down the sidewalk, raking his hands through his hair. Then he stopped. “Wait! If Jimmie were running, that means things must’ve got way out of control. Which means he would have been looking for back-up.” He glanced sadly at his cell phone again. “And the best place for that down here is…” He turned and pointed down a side street. “Val’s!”

“Café?”

“Let’s go!”

………

We heard them before we saw them and suddenly I was left in the dust as Van took off towards them, his kilt whipping around his legs. Sighing, I stopped to take off my heels as my nylons were probably ruined anyways. Unencumbered, I moved much faster and got to the parking lot a block down from Val’s just a minute or so after Van.

The fight was in full thrall and it took me a few panicked breaths to locate Van in the midst of it all. “A couple-a few” frat guys plus Jimmie had massed into something much much bigger. I didn’t even recognize the majority of the kids in the fight, despite the Xs on their hands marking them as sXe and recently from a show at that. My breath came in short, shallow bursts as I debated running back up the street to Val’s or calling the police from my cell phone right there. I looked down at my purse to make sure I hadn’t left my phone in my car and in that split second, the edge of the fight engulfed me and I was surrounded by screaming, swearing, sweaty body parts.

Panicked, I tried to push my way out but my pushes were only returned in kind plus change. And then – a sound like a wishbone snapping at Thanksgiving – and suddenly I was covered in something wet and sticky. Blood. The scream emanated somewhere from deep in the pit of my stomach. Not high-pitched and girly like the kind you hear on horror movies but low, guttural, feral. I didn’t think it was my blood but it was blood nonetheless and it was all over me. I screamed again, turning frantically. The crowd swallowed my noise but I saw Van pop up, turning towards me just in time to see me take an elbow to my chest. All the wind was knocked out of me but I had no doubt he would rescue me. I saw him yelling something to the guy next to him and pointing in my direction. It took me a second to make out his words.

“Cole! Get her out of here now!” I was surprised to see Cole appear a couple of people to my left. Had he gone looking for Jimmie too? Were Kyle and Pete here also? Cole hesitated and Van yelled again, louder this time, “Take her out!!” The distraction gave his opponent an opening and he took it. I watched Van take a blow to the head and stumble, going down momentarily.

“Noooo!” I screamed again, pushing towards him.

“Shut up!” Cole bounded over to me and it was apparent he was not happy. Grabbing my arm he growled, “Come on, move. You heard him.”

“I am not leaving him!” I cried, tears streaking down my face. “Help him! Get in there and help him!”

“Bugger it, girl,” Cole muttered and punched the guy nearest me. “Don’t you think I would if I didn’t have to be here dragging your sorry butt out?”

“Let go of me!” I ripped my arm from his grasp and looked for Van again. I thought I saw him but the light was too bad to tell.

“Look, chick,” he picked me up and hauled me indelicately out of the parking lot, “I will knock you out. Don’t make me do it.”

He walked stiffly next to me all the way back to my car, stonily ignoring my questions. When we got to the car, I said quietly, “I’ll go on my own now. Thank you.”

“Get in the car.”

“I will! Just go, okay?”

He shook his blond shaggy head and I realized that I probably would have found him attractive – if I didn’t know him like I did. “Nothing doing, chick. Van said to get you out and that’s what I’m going to do. Besides, if you’re dumb enough to wade into a brawl, you’re dumb enough to do something stupid like call the cops.”

“Fine,” I said icily, “whatever makes ya happy.”

“You think this makes me happy?” He slammed his fist down on my car. “You think I’m happy to be babysitting some idiot girl who can’t handle herself in a fight and gets my buddy knocked senseless?”

“Hey!” I said hotly, the tears perking into my eyes anew. “He’s my boyfriend! And that was not in any way my fault!” I closed my eyes against the vision of Van going down.

“It was in every way your fault, you stupid - ” He stopped himself and glared at me. “Shut up and get in the car already.”

I cried harder, all my pent-up anger and worry from the night running down my face. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed, letting myself believe his accusation. “I’ve never really seen a fight before! How was I supposed to know what to do? I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

Cole’s face softened as I apologized and after he watched me cry for a full minute, he finally came around to my side of the car and put his arms around me. “Leigh…it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. Not really.” I just cried harder. “Look, I’m a jerk, okay? Stop crying, please. Van’s fine. He can take care of himself better than anybody I know.” That was probably true but I refused to be mollified. I was having a darn good cry and wasn’t about to stop now. “I hate watching girls cry. Besides, I don’t want Van to come around that corner and find his girl in my arms.” He laughed a little and I glared at him. “Ah, don’t worry, you’re not my type.” As soon as he mentioned his type, a memory flashed into my mind – the way Cole had looked at Halley when he was playing 20 Questions with Jimmie (otherwise known as the Game No One Can Win). Suddenly I knew exactly who his type was. I wondered if Halley knew. “I’m sorry - I never said I was a gentleman,” he said softly.

“Don’t worry, I never mistook you for one,” I replied and stood back from him, wiping my face. “And I don’t think you are a jerk; you were just acting like one.”

“You just don’t know me very well, heh.” He gave that dry laugh again and I cringed. “I am a jerk of the highest order. I was just worse that usual tonight.”

“Why?” It seemed a simple question, one that begged asking, even, but he blanched and just stared down the street.

“Why?” he mouthed silently to himself and looked uncomfortable. “I was scared too, I guess.”

“Of the fight?” Finally - someone who’s reasonable about this fighting business.

He shook his head. “Fighting is never reasonable. Don’t get me wrong, Van is probably the bravest guy I’ve ever met and only fights for a good cause but even a fight for the right reasons is unreasonable.”

“What about you?” I was strangely curious. I’d spent a lot of time with Cole but for most of that, he’d been strung out on something or other. He’d never been edge, at least not that I knew of, so it wasn’t like Jimmie’s fall-from-grace binges, but more of a slow-and-steady personality erosion. It was weird seeing him just himself.

“Oh, I’m not brave. Never have been. I’m always scared out of my mind. Every time we go into one of these things. Every time.”

“Why go then?”

“I owe it to them. To Jimmie. To Van, especially. They’ve covered for me so many times, pulled me out of a lot of messes and crap.” He finally took off the set of brass knuckles he’d been wearing and rubbed his hand where they had been.

“Well, I think you all should stop owing each other a fight and start owing each other a life.”

He laughed, genuinely this time, the noise ricocheting off the buildings around us. “Oh, I wish it were that easy, girlie. Nope, this life swallows you whole – mind, body and spirit. Eventually you stop realizing it could be any other way. I’m just not there yet. Heh.”

“What are you talking about? It can be another way! You have so much…” I searched for the right word, “potential.”

Cole stopped laughing immediately and stared at me. “What did you say?” I opened my mouth to repeat it but he stopped me, “Never mind, never mind, I know exactly what you said.” His face was white and he looked like he might be sick all of a sudden. “That’s my deepest fear, really.”

“Huh?”

“I am deeply afraid of my potential.” My eyebrows shot up and I wondered if that was supposed to be a joke. He patted his pockets, looking for a cigarette and came up empty-handed. “Ah, yes my potential. All my godly potential.”

“Excuse me,” I rolled my eyes, “I said you had potential, I didn’t say you were a god.” Boys and their egos…

“I’m not a god,” he sighed, “but I have, well, had, the potential to be one.” Before I could smack him upside the head he added quickly, “And you do too.”

“A god? Don’t you mean a goddess?” I smirked. “Quick, where do I get my bumper sticker?”

“Not like that,” he frowned as if he were trying very hard to say something just right. “I forget that you don’t know it,” he mumbled, still searching. “No, Leigh, I am a son of God and you are a daughter of God. So’s Halley, so’s Van, so’s Jimmie for that matter although he’ll never let you tell him.” He flopped down on the curb next to my car, narrowly missing a pile of garbage.

“What are you talking about?” I said exasperated, as I tried to check his pupil size in the light from the street lamp.

“It’s true,” he said, his voice soft, exactly the way it had been that night he had “testified” to Jimmie, all doped up and righteous.

“What?” Dress notwithstanding, I plopped down on the curb next to him.

“It’s easier for you – you don’t have to live with the knowledge of what you could have been. I do. You won’t be held accountable. I will,” he groaned. Okay, now he was just talking utter nonsense. Maybe he’d taken a bad hit to the head too. I just sat and waited, unsure for what. “Everyone on this earth – we all lived before we were born.”

“What were you, a cockroach?” I laughed at my own joke but he didn’t seem to hear me.

“Before we had bodies, we lived as spirits with God, our Heavenly Father. He is the Father of our spirits, which is why, now that we are here on earth with bodies and stuff, we are children of God. Everyone is, whether they know it or not.”

I stared at a half-full bottle of soda rolling in the gutter next to me and thought about his ramblings. I didn’t want to think about them, they went against every thing I’d been taught as a kid, but somehow they penetrated my mind.

He kept going, “And we will live again after we die. That’s a gift from God to everybody. Everyone has the potential to be a god, or goddess,” he nodded to me, “after they die, if they live how they’re supposed to.” I was silent so long, he finally nudged me with his elbow. “You think I’m crazy.” I shook my head. “You think I’m high.”

“Are you?”

“No.” I believed him. I’d never heard him be this coherent. “Although I would be if I could.” He sighed wistfully and I resisted the urge to smack him.

“Well, um, thank you for sharing all that with me,” I said politely.

“No problem,” he said as if my gratitude were genuine. “That actually felt kinda good. You know, I’m nineteen,” he said cryptically.

“So? You still can’t rent a car.”

He made a face at me, “No, in my church - and Van’s too, by the way - all the guys are supposed to go on missions. Well, not all the guys but the good ones anyways and everyone’s supposed to be good but anyhow, that’s where I’m supposed to be right now. Out there in the world somewhere preaching to people, telling them what I just told you.” He smiled as if he felt really good about something and then his face fell and he shook his head. “My parents hate me.”

“I’m sure they don’t,” I sighed, not really wanting to get into the whole my-parents-hate-me diatribe. It usually ends with tears and I’ve had enough of those tonight.

“If they don’t, they should. Heh.” Shaking his head rapidly, he finally dropped it into his hands. “So what do you think?”

“Huh?”

“About what I told you. About being a daughter of God and someday being a god too and all that.

I wanted to say you know, it’s a good thing I know Van and Halley or I’d think all Mormons are off their rockers but I’m a polite girl at heart. “If what you say is true,” I said carefully, testing out the thoughts in my mind, “then that is the greatest promise I’ve ever heard.” Unexpectedly, a rush of warmth filled my chest and my face reddened. I thought about my own parents. They didn’t hate me, I knew that. Although they would laugh themselves silly if they knew I was sitting here in my bloodied prom dress, on a broken-down corner in the middle of the night, getting religion from a non-stoned stoner. But they’d be appalled if they knew I actually found myself believing him.

“It is true. I know it,” he said again with that same note of strangled despair. “And oh, I wish to God that I didn’t.”

………

“Jimmie’s not home!”

“Wait!” I said quickly before he could hang up and fall back in bed. “Jimmie, please, it’s me Leigh.” I didn’t add and it’s 2:30 in the afternoon.

He yawned and I could hear him contemplating hanging up on me. At last he said, “whaddyerwant?”

“Van there?”

“Huh? No.” He didn’t sound the least bit concerned.

“You know where I can find him?”

“Ummm, at school?”

“It’s Saturday!” I tried to mask my exasperation but it wasn’t working.

“Then he’s sleepin’. Prolly.”

“But where?” I clenched my teeth. “I’ve tried his cell, his house, the flower shop and now your house at least ten times.”

“That was you?” he growled.

“Never mind.”

“Go back to bed.”

“I wasn’t in bed,” I started and then shook my head. “Look, I haven’t heard from him since last night. I mean did you take him to the hospital or anything? I haven’t heard anything since I left. With Cole.”

“Last night…” Jimmie rolled over and I heard him pull a pillow over his face, muffling his already incoherent words. “Wait, are you worried about him?”

“Worried doesn’t even begin to describe it!” I let the hysteria out. It’s just easier that way.

“Aww, sweetie, Van wouldn’t let a couple of frat hats get the best of him. Showed ‘em a good time, I’d say. Heh, heh. He’s fine. I’m fine. Thanks for your concern. Now good-night.” He hung up.

“I really am fine.” Van was leaning casually against the brick wall behind The Body Store’s back door.

I screamed and almost dropped my phone. “What are you…where did you…what happened to you?!” I ran up to him, unsure of whether to hug him or slap him.

He held up his hands and gave me a half smile. “Careful there, I’m fine but still pretty sore.” He looked it too. His hands were a pulpy swollen mess and there were multiple cuts and bruises across his left cheek and jaw. I could only imagine what lay under his sweatshirt and jeans. “How are you?” Strangely, seeing him here alive and well brought on a surge of anger in my chest. When I didn’t answer, his smile faded and he gestured at the door. “You on break?”

“Just got off,” I said quietly.

“Can I buy you a smoothie?” he offered. I nodded. We didn’t speak again until we were holding our juice, sitting on the hood of my car at the far end of the mall parking lot. “So…” he said finally, “what are you thinking about?” I just shook my head. I didn’t know what to think. And for some strange reason I was getting angrier by the second. “It’s okay,” he whispered tenderly, rubbing my back, “take your time. I’ll wait.”

I shrugged his hands off. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What?” He sat up quickly, the shock evident in his posture. “What ‘this’?”

“This,” I gestured to the two of us.

“Oh.”

He was quiet for so long that I wondered if he had really heard me. “Look, I, um, really care about you but I can’t,” my throat started to close up, “I cannot go through last night again.”

“I understand.” He stared at me, his face sad and unblinking.

“No, I don’t think you do,” I said, the tears coming back anew. “I thought you were seriously hurt when I left last night. I thought you might even be dead.” I covered my face with my overly scented hands and sobbed. “I cannot wake up every day and wonder if you are dead or not. I just can’t do it.” He stared blankly into the cold mist while I shivered and cried. “I mean, you say you’re fine but you can’t be! I saw you get hit over the head. I saw you go down. Why can’t you ever admit you are scared? Why do you have to hide everything from me?”

Still saying nothing, he pulled his knit cap off and gently laid it on his backpack. Taking my numbed fingers in his hand, he placed them over the large lump on the back of his skull. He didn’t move a muscle as I traced it and followed the long cut down the back of his neck to his collar. In one quick motion, he pulled his shirt over his head, so that I could see the rest of it. It was a long, ragged tear in his taut, muscular back and I watched the skin around it prickle in the cold. But he remained utterly motionless as I found and examined every cut, every bruise. Every one. For once, he made no attempt to stop me or argue or even explain. He just let me look. At last I sat back and he pulled his sweatshirt on.

“Are you okay? Did you get all the blood out of your dress?” he said ever so quietly. I nodded. Actually, that had been priority number one as soon as I’d gotten home. Thankfully my parents had given up waiting for me to come in and I could go straight to the basement and soak it out. “You see, the thing is…” he stopped and I waited, waited to hear the answer I was looking for, even though I wasn’t even sure what that was. “The thing is…you’re right - I am scared. Really scared.”

“Yeah? As well you should be. I had nightmares all night.” The anger was creeping back in, unbidden.

“No, not about last night. Last night was just one of many nights exactly like it going back as far as I can remember. No,” he swallowed loudly, “what scares me is that I love you.” My eyebrows shot up and I blinked rapidly. We have never had The Talk, never even come close before. “I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my life.” I was stunned speechless by his declaration, especially since I honestly didn’t know if I could say the same. “And the scary part is that everything I have ever loved has always been taken away from me.” His voice caught and I realized he was trying not to cry. “And I’m afraid if I let you in, love you too much, then I’ll lose you. And I don’t know if I could stand it if you got taken away too.”

Suddenly the tears were in my eyes too, for like the tenth time since last night, and I sighed jaggedly. “Nothing could take me away from you,” I whispered, patting his mangled hand, “But. But I don’t know if I can stay with you. Your life…it’s too…” I didn’t finish. “I really care about you, in fact I…” I tried out the words in my head, I love you, but I couldn’t say them. It’s funny, just a month ago I was sure that I did and now… I blurted, “Aren’t you supposed to be going on a mission?”

“Uh, what?” He was visibly stunned.

“Like for your church or whatever.” He looked at me so astounded that I felt compelled to explain. “Cole said last night that all guys in your church are supposed to go on a mission or something when they are nineteen.” It occurred to me that I didn’t even know what that meant except wearing black suits even in the summer and riding bikes every where. It's not like my parents ever let them in.

“I…” he stopped, obviously at a loss for words, “have never really considered it.”

“Well you told me yourself that you know it’s true,” I said practically, wondering even as the words left my mouth why I cared. I mean, I cannot imagine Van – with all his piercings and strange hair and tattoos and Xs – ever resembling anything like those Ken dolls on bikes.

“I do,” he nodded. “I think it is true but I would much rather stay here with you. I mean, it takes most people their whole lives to find the person they want to be with forever and I got lucky. I found you early! I would be stupid to give that up. Didn’t Cole tell you about eternal families too? I mean, that’s like the most important thing to Mormons.”

Now it was my turn to be stunned speechless. I was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with? In ten minutes we’d gone from high school puppy love to soul mates. My head was spinning. “If you are supposed to do one those mission things, then I don’t want to be the reason that you don’t,” I said, knowing even as I spoke it that it was absolutely true.

“Yeah, I should probably go,” he said hesitantly. “Maybe. But I love you. You could wait for me. Or just say the word and I’ll stay with you forever.”

I tried not to visibly cringe. Instead I closed my eyes, feeling the comforting caress of the mist on my face. Was he asking me to make his decision for him? Sure, I want him to stay with me. But forever? And I definitely didn’t want to stand between him and his God. “Say something,” he tugged on my hands. “Please?”

“I don’t know if I can say what you want me to say,” I said finally. Why did he have to say that? It changes everything.

He paused as if waiting for me and then nodded once, curtly. “Fair enough.” Jumping off my car, he arced his juice cup into the nearest garbage can. Then he swung his backpack up, settling it on his shoulders, before turning to me. The tears were there in earnest now. “I love you, Leigh and I mean that. But I’m no stalker, don’t worry. If you are with me, it’s only because you want to be. If you say so, I’ll be out of your life forever, I promise.” Out of my life maybe, but not out of my head.

“Van, I” I stammered, my heart pounding, afraid suddenly of what I was doing.

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “I can’t change who I am. I realize that that isn’t what you want to hear but I’m not going to be like Jimmie and just promise you whatever it takes to bring you back and then break your heart all over again when I screw up.”

“You’re not-”

He stopped me again, holding up his hand. “Jimmie. I know. I was just saying-“

Now it was my turn to interrupt. “Your dad.” He looked up at me, stunned.

“…what?”

“You are not your father. You aren’t doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over like he did. You are not going to lose everything you ever loved. You can change who you are.” Suddenly Cole’s words from the night before jumped into my mind. You are a child of God. Even today it made my heart jump a little. But I didn’t say it. Besides, Van was the same religion as Cole – he should already know that, right?

There was a long silence where we stood face-to-face with each other. And face-to-face with our fears. At last he said softly, “I’m going to leave now but think about it. Just think about it. And if you want to, you know how to find me.” Without so much as a good-bye hug and the standard let’s always be friends, he turned and bounded to the street. He was already across before I found my voice.

“Van!” I screamed but he didn’t hear me. I tried again, “VAN!” He spun around, the hope obvious in his face. “Dr. Moody loved your drawings. The project was a great success. We all got ‘A’s.” He stared blankly at me. “I just thought you should know!” I shouted into the mist.
- posted by Charlotte @ 8:12 AM