Avra's God (25 page)

Kallie stomped her foot in the doorway. “You
can’t just throw your family away like a half-eaten kid’s meal from
McDonalds”

Kallie looked away from the track she’d been
staring at while telling the story, toward Jesse, Avra, and Cisco.
“But he did throw us away. We never saw him again. He probably
thinks I’m psycho, that I’d really hurt Erika or my baby
brother.”

Avra rubbed Kallie’s arm in silent
comfort.

“You were twelve years old. Your whole life
came unglued. What kid wouldn’t freak?” Cisco said. “When my dad
left, I went wacko for, like, two years—and I was nineteen and
twenty.”

Wow, they didn’t blame her. She felt like
they’d hacked open her tomb that had been sealed for ten years.
Fresh air rushed in.

“I read something in the Bible this week that
totally relates, Isaiah 53:3-5.” Avra’s voice surged with
excitement. She rubbed her forehead trying to remember. “Jesus
understands how you feel. Isaiah says He was despised and rejected
by men, a man of sorrows, familiar with suffering.” She looked at
Jesse. “Come on, help me out here.”

Jesse let out a long breath as though he’d
rather not. “‘Surely He took up our infirmities and carried our
sorrows, yet we considered Him stricken by God, smitten by Him and
afflicted. But He has pierced for our transgressions, He was
crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace
was upon Him and by His wounds we are healed.’“

Wonder, a fast-forward flower growing on the
Discovery Channel, sprang up in Kallie.

All eyes on him, Jesse shrugged. “Third-grade
Bible Drill champ.”

Avra leaned toward her. “Do you get what
Jesse said? God understands how you feel, carries your sorrows.
Those wounds you look at every Sunday on Jesus’ body on the cross
heal you.”

“Wow. Jesse told me to read the Bible, but I
sure haven’t gotten to that part. I got stuck in the part about
sacrificing cows and pouring their blood on the altar.”

Jesse laughed. “What? You’re not totally into
blood and guts?”

She rolled her eyes, but inside something big
was happening.

Palms waved in the night sky as Jesse found
himself praying for the second time in a week
. Jesus, please
heal Kallie’s heart. Repair the damage her father did. Help her to
accept Your forgiveness for the things she did to her father and
his wife that cause her shame. Comfort her.

A cool wind blew through the palms. Avra
shivered. “I’m ready for that ride home.” They stood and made their
way down the bleachers.

Cisco kicked Jesse’s foot. “Your turn to
shake out your issues.”

Right. Like he was going to bust out his Dad
saga on the stadium steps just because the topic came up.

Avra headed for the backseat of Cisco’s car.
She’d said she would ride home with him, but she didn’t want him to
get his hopes up they’d get back together. It had felt so natural
tonight—Cisco and Jesse offering a ride, Kallie spilling. If she
wasn’t careful, she’d slip back into how they used to be.

But, thanks to Cisco’s betrayal, going back
was no longer an option. Healing was happening, but she didn’t know
if she could forgive him, much less trust him again.

She slid onto the backseat and caught Cisco’s
disappointment—the same expression he’d tried to hide on Saturday
when she’d turned down his kiss. She needed to stay far, far away
from his kisses.

Jesse slammed the car door. “You’re crazy.”
He could nail Cisco about now. What good would regurgitating dad’s
cruelty to Kallie and Avra do?

“I’m just sayin’ Kallie’s not the only one
with unfinished dad business. She’s going to feel like a freak if
she’s the only one who talks.” He winked at Kallie as she slid into
the backseat beside Avra.

“Then,
you
talk,” Jesse said through
his teeth.

“We’re working it out, man. Didn’t I tell
you? I found out from the sisters that Mamá kicked Pops out.” He
shook his head. “He never told me.” Cisco slammed the driver’s
door. “So. You were the only hot-shot freshman on the varsity
basketball team—”

“One trip to the DSC counselor and you’re a
psych major?” Jesse said.

Cisco shot him a zip-it-or-you-die look. “You
hate to talk about stuff, but it’s gonna make you feel better.
Remember when you talked about—”

Tía.
“I remember.”

Cisco started the car and spun gravel as he
pulled out of the lot.

Jesse emptied his lungs. Cisco so owed him
for this. “It was the middle of Daytona State basketball practice
freshman year. I was running lines. Dad waved me off the court.” He
stared at the windshield, almost feeling Kallie’s eyes bore into
the back of his head.

He stepped back two years.

Struggling to slow his breathing, he grabbed
the back of his sweaty neck and eyed his father. “What’s up?” Dad
had never come to practice before.

His father flashed his basketball eligibility
grade sheet in front of him.

Jesse glanced down the page—C’s, two.

Dad’s gaze pinned him to the floor.

Blood drained from his face. Every pair of
eyes on the court drilled into his shoulder blades. What was Dad
going to do—besides make a scene?

Coach walked up. They exchanged
introductions. Coach crossed his arms, planted his feet, and
waited.

“My boy’s grades are unacceptable, and I’m
pulling him off the team.”

Coach’s brows hiked a fraction. “There must
be some mistake. I checked all the boys’ grades last week. Nobody
was ineligible.”

“I didn’t say they were unacceptable to
you
,” Dad said. “Grades have to come first. Jesse’s not
going to play professional basketball, but he’ll use his education
the rest of his life.”

Coach ran a hand over the slight stubble on
his chin. “None of these boys will go pro, but Jesse’s a darn good
ball player—”

“The decision is made. We appreciate all
you’ve done for Jesse. Get your things, Son, you’re going
home.”

Cisco pulled up to the curb in front of
Avra’s house.

“That’s way harsh.” Kallie’s voice was rough
with emotion. He felt her hand squeeze his shoulder.

“My brother Cal would have told Dad he’d play
with or without Dad’s blessing. Sometimes I think that’s what I
should have done. Instead, I’m still ripped. I haven’t had a real
conversation with Dad since that day.”

“I’m so sorry, Jess,” Avra said.

Cisco hid a smug smile when he came around
the car to where Jesse stood.

Avra faced him on the sidewalk. “I’ll
pray—”

“Don’t waste your time. I’m not.” Jesse
said.

Kallie shot him a grin. “I’m not feeling like
a freak anymore. Thanks for dumping.”

“Anytime.”

Oh yeah?
Cisco’s cocked brow said.
Jesse smacked him in the stomach. Cisco laughed. “Night, Kal.
Night, Avra—” He looked at Avra as if he wanted to say more, but
instead, grabbed Jesse around the neck with the crook of his arm
and wrestled him toward the car.

Jesse flipped around, grunted, and caught
Cisco in a headlock. They were eleven again when life was simple.
The girls laughed behind him, and he felt better than he had since
things went south with Dad. Cisco piled into the car.

In the distance a train whistle blew. He
stepped close to Kallie and her eyes widened. “I was delusional
when I wrote
Neon Green.
I own that train wreck.”

Kallie sat cross-legged on her bed with the
gold embossed Bible that went with the encyclopedias they’d moved
from Eucalyptus Lane to the Coconut Grove condo to New Smyrna Beach
open in her lap.

Lamplight warmed the words Jesse had quoted
earlier. Jesse. She’d process his apology later. One seismic shift
at a time.

Rain pattered against the jalousies beside
her.

She read the passage over and over, soaking
it into her spirit. Jesus understood how she felt because He had
been despised and rejected too. He carried her burlap sack of
sorrows on His back. She didn’t need to lug it around anymore.
I
let go, God.

He let people hammer nails into His body,
slice His side with a sword, suffocate Him on the cross for the
things she did to Dad and Erika—and twenty-one years’ worth of
sins—so she could have peace and healing.
I want that.
She
ached to be connected to God the way Avra was.

She clicked off the lamp and watched the moon
dance on her backyard jungle in the pelting rain. A sweet stillness
filled her. Somewhere deeper than her emotions she heard God’s
wordless,
Come.

Yes.

Kallie jerked her gaze back from the
rain-washed beach to Avra.

“You can’t decline,” Avra said. “It’s an
honor to be chosen choir representative to the Fall Fling
Court.”

It’s not like I have a chance of winning
anyway.
She lobbed a shell toward a mound of seaweed. “Don’t
care. Don’t have a dress. Don’t have any money.”

“Olivia Marsden will take your place in a
heartbeat.”

Point taken. Piano major Olivia already
thought she owned the fast track to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
“Who would I ask to be my escort?”

“You could ask Kurt, but don’t break his
heart.”

“Jesse.”

“Then you’ll break your own heart.”

Avra stepped out into the seven a.m. chill,
her mind groggy, her heart at peace.

Cisco stood on the steps in baggy basketball
shorts and a sweatshirt, holding a steaming McDonald’s cup. “I’m
not going to ask you if you slept, sleepy face.” He nodded his head
toward the car. “Come on.” He handed her the cup and stuck the ball
under his arm.

She sipped the rich chocolate. “Thanks.” A
few leaves blew down the street on a gust of damp, salty air. Her
mind and body rebelled at the thought of going anywhere at this
hour. She woke up by degrees as she nursed her cocoa.

A guy with sleep-rumpled hair and bare feet
kissed a girl at the curb; she got in her car and drove away. That
could have been her and Cisco. If Cisco had asked. She shuddered in
spite of the warmth of her cocoa. For the first time, gratitude
welled up in her that Cisco didn’t ask.

“Okay.” Cisco dropped the ball on the
dew-whitened soccer field. “Show me your warm-ups.”

She rubbed her arms through her sweatshirt.
“Aw, don’t make me do this.”

“You said I could plan this morning.”

She sighed and swiped at the condensation
beaded on the goal post. She grabbed the post and held one foot in
her hand behind her to stretch. He followed her through a
half-hearted warm-up routine.

“That it?”

She nodded.

“Play ball!”

Morning people were truly obnoxious.

He dribbled the ball around her a couple
times until she got annoyed enough to steal it.

“Half field!” Cisco took off after her. He
caught up to her just as she positioned to shoot on goal. “Gotcha.”
He carried the ball back to the middle of the field.

She kicked wet grass off her sneakers and
waited for him to run back toward the goal. Boy, was he cocky. He
charged her.

This was what she did best. Fully alert for
the first time all morning, she waited for the precise moment to go
for the ball. The rising sun warmed her back. A car engine
revved.

He was close enough for her to see the pink
in his cheeks, the confidence in his eyes. Her foot shot out,
kicking the ball out of his control. “Ha!” She sped after the
ball.

As they played, the sun burned the dew off
the grass. They tossed their sweatshirts onto the bleachers while
two boys sailed their bikes into the sand at the end of the field.
A man with an orange T-shirt stretched across a beer belly jogged
along the street.

She lined up the last goal. Before she could
shoot, Cisco tackled her. He took the impact, and the next thing
she knew, damp grass cooled the warm skin on her back, arms, and
neck. “Hey, no fair!” She breathed hard.

Cisco’s arm lay across her waist. Grass
peppered his hair; sweat slicked his face and neck.

Cisco smirked at her. “Sore loser.” He sat up
and leaned over her. “Little Avra has a competitive streak. Maybe
we’ll play something more intellectual—you know—more your speed,
next time.”

“The
tackle
was no fair.” She shoved
him away.

His heart beat under her palm. “The tackle
was just for fun.”

She sucked in a calming breath.

Cisco locked his fingers under his head and
lay back on the grass. He gazed at the sky.

The wet armpits of his T-shirt were exposed.
Damp skin shined beneath the curling hair on his legs—and he had
never looked better.

Cisco pointed up. “It’s a Fiat.”

“What’s a Fiat?”

“A car, silly.” He raised his head. “You
can’t see it from that angle. You have to roll over here.”

She scooted closer. The smell of cut grass
and sunshine hung in the air. The rhythmic sound of Cisco’s
breathing filled the silence. Her eyes slipped shut as she
listened.

“You’re not going to sleep are you? Find a
car.”

She opened her eyes and pointed at a cloud.
“Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang.”

“How about a Volkswagen?”

Instantly, she remembered the Love Bug from
the day she told Cisco she’d go out with him. “So, that’s what
we’re doing—re-creating the day I told you I’d go out with you.”
She rolled onto her stomach to look at him.

“Bingo.” Cisco swiveled his head toward her
on the grass. “Get with the program.”

“Are you going to ask me out again?”

“Do you want me to?”

She stared at the clouds, unseeing. She
didn’t hear his breathing. “Not yet.”

Cisco let his breath out. “So, I should ask
in five minutes? Half an hour? Next week? Next month? If it’s
anything less than
not in this lifetime
, I’ll wait. I’m not
going anywhere. I’m patient. Now.”