On My Own Read online

  “Yeah, we had to start giving each other more space,” explained Jenny as she botched a perfectly good pool shot.

  “But once we figured that out, it's been pretty much okay.”

  Anna laughed. “Yeah, except for last week when Beanie came storming over to my room after she and Jenny had gotten into a big stink over whose turn it was to take out the garbage.”

  “Oh, it wasn't that bad,” said Beanie.

  So I told them a little bit about Liz, and they all acted appropriately sorry for me but also promised they'd be praying for her. And somehow, after hearing about their less-than-perfect situations, I felt slightly better about mine. I suppose it's sad but true: Misery does love company.

  Then we all went to youth group and church the next day. And sure enough there were Chloe and Josh. I don't think I'll ever forget the smile on Josh's face as he proudly introduced his sister to the kids in the youth group–kind of reminded me of how Tony had looked when he'd introduced me to his new son Clayton Antonio.

  And despite how pleased I was for both Chloe and Josh, I must admit to feeling just a smidgen of what I think was probably some form of jealousy. Like I should've been getting some of the credit or glory–I mean, hadn't I had a hand in helping Chloe reach this place? But at the same time I chided myself for my stupid selfishness. After all, I know that it was totally God's doing. And what if He had used me? Who am I to strut around like I'm something special? And so I felt adequately humbled, and as a result, I may have seemed more quiet than usual.

  “Are you okay?” Josh asked me after the service ended.

  “Sure.” I smiled brightly.

  “Do you have time to grab some lunch?”

  I glanced at my watch. “I really wish I could, Josh, but Bryce is picking me up in about ten minutes.”

  “Bryce Lundgren?”

  “Yeah, I almost forgot you know him. He's the one who gave me a ride from school.”

  A tiny shadow crossed Josh's face. “So you two are pretty good friends, huh?”

  I laughed. “Yes, but that's all we are. Y'know Bryce already has a girlfriend.”

  He nodded, but I could tell he was slightly embarvassed by his line of questioning. “Well, I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate everything you've done for Chloe. God is really using you, Caitlin.” He smiled that dazzling Matt Damon smile. “And you just never cease to amaze me.”

  “Amaze you?”

  “Yeah, the way you keep living for God–giving 100 percent. I really admire you. And I thought it was time for me to say it.”

  Well, I wasn't quite sure what to say, but I think I mumbled a quiet thank-you or something like that. But I must admit that Josh's approval meant a lot to me. Sometimes we forget to tell each other that we're doing a good job. And it was sweet of him to say that to me.

  On the way back to school, I told Bryce all about Chloe and her graveyard conversion. He thought the whole thing was pretty cool and promised that he'd be praying for her to stick to her commitment and grow strong in the Lord.

  So all in all, it was a fairly amazing weekend. And I came back to school all happy and pumped and ready to let my little light shine!

  It just figures that I'd walk into my room to find Liz and Jordan making out–and who knows what else–on top of her narrow bed! I slightly blew it by losing my temper. I threw my bag onto the floor and then said, “Excu-use me!”

  Well, they hardly even noticed me standing in the open doorway, fists doubled in anger, as I stared at them. Finally Liz spoke in an exasperated tone, “Can't you just get lost for a little while, Goody Two-Shoes?”

  I took in a deep breath and silently counted to ten (okay, I counted pretty fast). “Look, Liz, we had an agreement. And right now you're breaking it. If anyone should get lost for a few minutes it should be you two.” I almost couldn't believe my own words–the way I stood up for myself. And it wasn't in anger either. It's like I had an extra measure of self-control–as if God was empowering me. And so I remained in the doorway, silently praying for strength and help, my feet rooted to the floor.

  Finally, Liz sat up and glared at me. “Oh, okay,” she snarled as she gave Jordan a shove, causing him to tumble to the floor. “Let's get outta here!”

  And that's when I knew I was back.

  SEVEN

  Saturday, October 19

  I wasn't too excited about my first midterm week at college, but now I think it was a blessing in disguise since it proved a good distraction from my roommate situation. In an attempt to avoid Liz's hostile and unpredictable mood swings (she and Jordan are fighting again), I buried myself in the books and subsequently feel pretty good about my grades now. But Liz never seems to study, and she doesn't seem a bit concerned about her grades either. How can that be?

  But here's what's really bugging me about her (petty as it sounds on paper)–she keeps eating my food. Now I realize I should be more generous and willing to share. And maybe I would be–if she'd just ask first! But, no, she sneaks around while I'm at class or the library or wherever, and like a little mouse (or a big rat!) she gets into the stash that my mom sends me and nibbles away.

  This week alone, she's eaten almost all of my Mystic Mints (my favorite store-bought cookies!) and a whole box of Triscuits (that I hadn't even opened), plus she drank most of my Snapples. Okay, maybe it's partly my fault because I've tried to share with her, like when I'm having a snack and she's here, but I haven't let her know how much it bugs me when she just helps herself while I'm gone. And it's funny because she's the one who acts all like: “Oh, I'm so independent and don't need anyone!” and yet it appears she might starve if she didn't have my food. Maybe she should try getting up on time to get some breakfast downstairs!

  Okay, enough whining about that. On a brighter note, I had a great e-mail from Chloe today, and it sounds like things are really going well for her. She is so turned on to God! Talk about your night-and-day conversion! But here's what really cracks me up: She keeps saying that no matter how much she changes on the inside, she has no desire to change her outward appearance unless God specifically tells her to. And I say, “Go girl!” Because who knows, maybe God could really use someone who looks like Chloe. I think she could end up reaching a whole different bunch of kids.

  In some ways I envy her. I wish I could be more out there in my appearance–and even in my personality. Like Liz (not that I want to be like her), but sometimes I sort of envy the way she just plows through life being her own person–as obnoxious as that can sometimes be. And yet here I am all bent out of shape because I have a hard time asking her to “please, don't eat my cookies.” Good grief! I almost make myself sick!

  But then I remember that God made me the way He did for a reason. I mean, what would it be like if everyone were the same? Pretty boring I suppose …or perhaps we'd all just kill each other. Anyway, I guess I need to be more thankful for who I am and pray that God will show me the areas that I need to change. In the meantime, I'll have to think of some way to nicely let Liz know that she's really bugging me!

  Thursday, October 24 (confrontation!)

  Well, I did the deed. The other day, I told Liz that I didn't mind sharing stuff with her, but that I'd appreciate if she'd ask first. She just kind of looked blankly at me and said, “Sure, whatever.” And since then, I haven't really noticed anything missing, so maybe she was actually listening. Then I got up the nerve to ask her about Jordan yesterday. He'd been noticeably absent for the last few days.

  “Oh, we broke up,” she said lightly as if it didn't even matter.

  “Again?”

  She rolled her eyes at me then flopped onto her bed.

  “Well, maybe it's for the best.” Okay, I should've known better than to express an opinion about someone else's dating life. After all, I've had lots of bad experiences with my own friends (and they actually like me!).

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “How would you know?”

  “Oh, I don't know. But it didn't seem like that relationsh
ip was doing you much good.”

  She made a growling sound, then sat up straight and glared at me. “And what makes you an expert on relationships, Miss Goody Two-Shoes?”

  Well, I'm really getting tired of this “Miss Goody Two-Shoes” business, but I tried to ignore it. “I'm not saying I'm an expert, but it's not too difficult to see when something's not good for someone. I mean, if someone's taking drugs and it's wrecking her life, it doesn't take a genius to observe it. Or if someone's in a relationship that makes her act like a witch–” Oops, but it was too late.

  “You think I act like a witch?” her voice raised itself a notch.

  “Well, I don't think Jordan brings out the best in you.”

  “And what makes you such an expert on what's the best in me?”

  “All I'm saying is you don't seem all that happy when you and Jordan are together. And I don't think he's the most dependable kind of guy–I mean, remember what happened with Rachel–?”

  She pressed her hands over her ears and made a loud groan. “Sometimes you sound just like my moronic mother!”

  Gulp. How do you respond to something like that? “Sorry,” I said quietly, “but you asked.”

  “Well, have you ever considered the possibility that it might be you who's making me act like a witch? Assuming that I even am! What with your little Miss Perfect ways and your Sunday school smiles! Crud, you could drive anyone over the edge.”

  Ouch! Still, I considered her words. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Yes! Probably the only reason I've lasted this long with you was because I kept holding out that Jordan and I would be moving in together before too long.” She punched her pillow. “And now that's not very likely!”

  “Do you want to see if we can get switched?” I asked, and I have to admit that my feelings were pretty hurt just then. I mean, here I thought I was the one doing all the putting up with, and then she unloads on me that I'm the one who's the real pain in the behind (well, at least in her opinion).

  “I've already looked into it, and right now there's nothing available. But don't worry, I'm first on the waiting list.”

  “Oh.” I pretended to busy myself with straightening up my desk, my back to her, but tears of anger mixed with humiliation burned in my eyes. And no way did I want her to see them.

  “So, did I hurt your feelings?” But the way she asked this sounded slightly taunting, like maybe she hoped she had.

  I turned around and faced her. “Yeah, to be honest, you did. Are you happy now?”

  She pressed her lips together but said nothing.

  “Look, Liz, this hasn't been a lot of fun for me either. I've wanted to switch roommates a lot of times, but then I kept thinking maybe there was a reason for this–”

  “Like maybe you could save me?” Her eyes had that hard, flinty look.

  “Nooo, not exactly. But maybe I could become your friend.”

  She looked down at her lap for a moment, then spoke in a low voice that was laced with an emotion I still can't quite put my finger on. But my best guess is that it was hostility mixed with desperation. “Sorry, but you don't have what it takes to be my friend.”

  “How do you know that?” I sat down on my bed now, praying silently that God would somehow break through Liz's hard shell.

  “Because I've known people like you. Yeah, you say you want to be my friend, but all you really want is for me to become just like you–plain, boring, vanilla, white-bread … You don't have the slightest interest in knowing, not to mention accepting, who I really am. If you knew who I really was–man, you'd be so freaked out and appalled that you'd probably run home, crying to Mommy and Daddy.”

  Well, now that one got to me, and I suppose it pushed me into my old sarcastic mode–not something I'm terribly proud of. “So who are you really, Liz? A serial murderer? Drug pusher? Or do you sacrifice children on the devil's altar? What exactly is it that I'd find so appalling about you?”

  “For starters I am a woman who doesn't need your God. I can think for myself, and I can stand on my own two feet. I can have sex with any guy I like, and I can get wasted whenever I feel the urge. I can break the rules and still come out on top. I'm everything you're not, Caitlin, and I know that you hate me for it.”

  I tried not to blink or register any reaction. “You do drugs too?”

  For some reason, although I was perfectly serious, this made her laugh. “Well, I tried them in high school. But I didn't like the way I felt afterward and decided it wasn't my thing. Why do you ask?”

  “I don't know. Just curious.”

  “So you see, Little Goody Two-Shoes, we can never be friends.”

  “Only because you're not willing to give it a try. I think the truth is you're afraid of me because I make you uncomfortable.”

  “Oh, sure, you bet.” She crossed her legs and acted like she was suppressing a big laugh.

  “Then why do you work so hard keeping me at arm's length all the time? Why do you go out of your way to be so mean, to shove me away from you? What are you afraid of anyway?”

  “I'm not afraid of anything.”

  “Oh, I think you are. And as sad as it seems to me, I think you're afraid of God.”

  “See, I knew it would come down to this. Sooner or later you people always bring everything back to God. God this, God that. Blah, blah, blah. I'm sick of it!”

  “You wouldn't react so strongly if you weren't afraid.” I looked evenly at her. “And you wouldn't reject my friendship if you weren't attempting to reject God.”

  “So you're saying that you can only offer me your friendship if I take your God right along with you?”

  I thought about that for a moment. I considered how Jesus had reached out to people–fishermen and tax collectors and harlots. Didn't He simply invite them to come along with Him, to see what developed along the way? But then He's Jesus and I'm me. Still, I thought it might be worth a try. “No, I'm just offering my friendship to you, Liz, plain and simple. That's all. What you do with my offer is entirely up to you.”

  “So are you saying that should I become your friend, you wouldn't drag me off to your church or preach at me or even criticize me for the way I live?”

  “Even if I wanted to, I couldn't drag you to church. And hopefully I wouldn't preach at you, although I've been known to do it from time to time. Still, it's a habit I've been trying to break.” I glanced at her and thought I noticed her face soften a little. “And as far as criticizing, well, sometimes that's just what friends do, isn't it? I mean, when you really care about someone and you see them doing something harmful or stupid, don't you want to tell them?”

  “And what if I think going to church is harmful or stupid for you?”

  “Well, I guess I'd be interested to hear your opinions–if we were friends, that is.”

  She seemed to be considering all this, and I thought perhaps progress had actually been made.

  “Sooo.” She looked at me with a little spark in her eye. “What if I said I wanted us to be friends and then invited you to go out with me for a few drinks?”

  “I'd have to ask what kind of drinks.”

  “You know what I mean. A brewsky or two. Would you do it?”

  “First of all, I'm only eighteen–”

  “I can get you a fake ID.”

  “That's not the point. Besides being legally underage, I have absolutely no desire to drink alcohol.”

  “How would you even know, Goody Two-Shoes?”

  “Because I tried it. Like you said about drugs, I tried drinking in high school and discovered that I felt totally rotten afterward. It doesn't do anything for me. I'd rather get high on God.”

  She laughed in that hard way. “So if we were friends, what exactly would we do together? Have little tea parties? Bake cookies? Play Parcheesi?”

  Now I laughed. “I suppose we'd just hang out and talk, and hopefully be there for each other. Don't you know what friends do?”

  Her eyes flashed now, and I knew I'd
gone one step too far. She stood up. “My friends know how to have a good time. They know how to party and enjoy life.”

  “And so do mine. We just do it in such a way that we still feel great when the party's over.”

  Well, that made her really mad, and she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Still, I think progress was made tonight.

  EIGHT

  Sunday, October 27 (a brief repriere)

  At last, I can honestly say I had a really good weekend here at school. The day after Liz and I had our big “friendship” talk (which was really getting to me, especially considering that I don't exactly have a plethora of friends here at college), Kim invited me to join her and some others for the homecoming festivities this weekend. And it was really fun! I got to know Kim and her roommate Lindsey better, as well as a bunch of other kids from the fellowship group. It makes me look forward to not having a night class next semester.

  Anyway, we went to the game and the dance and just had a good time hanging out as a group. Amazingly, there hasn't been much pairing off yet, although I did notice Stephen around Lindsey a lot. But I really like that these guys seem happy to just hang out as a group. And they're planning all sorts of fun stuff for this year–things to look forward to.

  I felt a little bad about Liz this weekend because she seemed really bummed and lonely. I even invited her to join our group for the homecoming events. Of course, she just laughed that one off. “Yeah, sure, and maybe I'll bring along a Bible to the football game too,” she sniped as I bundled up.

  “Are you going to do anything?” I asked with my hand on the door.

  “Don't worry.” She rolled her eyes. “I think this will be my weekend to finally hit the books.”

  I tried not to look too surprised. “Well, happy studying then.” Fortunately I missed most of her last derogatory comment as I slipped out the door. Poor Liz.