Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2) (22 page)

“Student files?”

“Yeah, like, disciplinary files, general meetings, whatever. Each day we get an updated schedule of who the dean is meeting with for the day. The following day, there’s usually some write up—either general minutes about the meeting, or demerit cards if any were given, or other write-ups. I have to print those off, make sure they get in the right files, then basically play Solitaire for the rest of my shift.”

“Okay …” I shrug. The tension around the table far exceeds the mechanics of this conversation.

Jonah shifts in his seat. “I knew about your meeting because you talked about it the day before at lunch. And, Eden mentioned to me that she hoped you weren’t going to get into trouble for something that wasn’t your fault.”

I look over to Matt briefly, who now looks as grey as Jonah does.

“Your name wasn’t on the schedule the day before the meeting, but sometimes that happens. Baker’s not great about keeping a tight schedule. His secretary is always on him. But, the next Monday when I went in, I looked back at the schedule to see if it had been added after, just for documentation sake, and it wasn’t there.”

“Okay, so my appointment wasn’t on the schedule. That’s hardly a show-stopper.”

Matt touches my shoulder. “Just wait,” he whispers.

Jonah clears his throat. “I checked my emails all day, and even after the main bulk of filing information had come through, there was still nothing on your meeting. For a little while I was nervous because I thought that meant you’d gotten in some serious trouble that even I couldn’t know about—and I’m sworn to confidentiality with that job. Just to be sure, I asked his secretary if all the minutes had come through. When she said they did, I asked her where the minutes for your meeting were.”

“What’d she say?” I ask quickly.

He shakes his head. “She looked at me a little surprised and said that there had been no meeting with
Miss Sawyer
on Friday.”

Hearing
Miss Sawyer
from Jonah’s lips makes me swallow hard, to avoid throwing up.

“Just to be sure, I texted Eden and asked if you had gotten in trouble at your meeting. She texted back and said you told her everything was fine and you didn’t get in any trouble. So, I went back to the secretary and said that I was certain you had a meeting with him, and I wanted to make sure everything got filed properly so I wouldn’t get in trouble for mishandling confidential files.”

“What’d she say
?
” I ask again, my pulse racing.

Jonah looks down and swallows hard before looking up. “She stood up, brought me to the corner of the office and said,
Jonah, there was absolutely no meeting with Kennedy Sawyer in this office.
I waited for her to take her lunch break and then I went to the filing cabinet.”

“And?” I wipe my palms on my pants.

“It’s squeaky-clean. There’s the details about what happened with Joy, along with your statement that came from your RA that you didn’t want disciplinary action taken against Joy. And that was it.”

“We know it wasn’t about you,” Marla says while Jonah takes a breath. “People don’t erase paper trails if they’re trying to get someone in trouble.”

Matt speaks up again. “Then the way you acted around him …” He eyes me empathetically. “What happened in that meeting, Kennedy?”

“And,” John adds, “why haven’t you talked about it?”

I have a few seconds to make a choice. Either I lie to everyone, which would include Matt and Jonah, or I tell the truth to people I barely know. I feel like I need more information.

“He’s an ass,” Caitlyn blurts out. “He has a sleazy reputation.”

My jaw drops. “He does?”

Matt shifts in his seat. “Did he, uh,” he clears his throat, “did he touch you?”

“
No
.” I nearly jump at the sternness in my voice. “I’d have punched him in the throat if he did.”

Everyone around the table seems to exhale simultaneously.

“Then what happened, Kennedy?” Jonah asks.

Five sets of hopeful, pleading eyes stare at me, and I hold my breath.

“He threatened me,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears.

Matt stiffens at my side. “How
?
”

I keep my voice cool and collected. “He said I was a threat. That I was a threat, my father was a threat, and my
friend who played football
was, too.”

“That bastard,” Matt growls through clenched teeth. “I
knew
he had it out for me.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think he really does. I think he was saying that to scare me into doing what he said. Because he knows I’d protect you.”

“How’d he threaten you?” Marla asks.

I shrug. “There
were
lots of implications. Like … basically I have to stay in line and make next-to-no noise or else my time at CU, and possibly Roland’s, would be … limited.”

“Who have you told?” Matt rests his forehead on a fist.

“No one.”

“Good,” Jonah interrupts. “Don’t.”

“Not even Roland?” I ask.

“Not yet,” John answers. “We’ll go to him when we’re ready.”

I look at the group with new eyes. “What are you guys up to? And how do you know about Dean Baker’s sleazy reputation? Is this even a PK group?”

“It’s a PK group,” John assures, “because we’re all PK’s.”

I arch my eyebrow toward the girls, who have been the quietest during this whole … whatever this is.

“My sister was raped two years go,” Caitlyn admits with tears spilling from her eyes. “And Dean Baker swept it under the rug.”

“
What?
” My nostrils flare and my cheeks heat with rage.

Marla nods. “Stuff like that has happened a few times. Not always rape, but other sexual assault, drug use, whatever. Dean Baker waves some things off, and chases after others like a rabid dog.”

I exhale, puffing out my cheeks and burying my face in my hands. “What are each of you doing in this group? Is this an Anti-Dean Baker Group?”

“I don’t trust
a
Dean of Students who would take me under his wing knowing everything my dad has done,” Matt admits in an exhale.

“Which you’re going to tell me all about, and soon,” I snap. He exhales
heavily.

“What about you?” I ask John.

He grins. “I don’t want to be here. My parents are making me come here because they won’t pay for me to go anywhere else. Since I have no interest in taking out a ton of loans in my name … here I am. Everything looks a little too picture-perfect from the outside, if you ask me. And, hearing what some of the guys in my dorm struggle with, and the first question they’re asked by peer counselors is how often they masturbate? Something’s off.”

I pull my head back and look to Jonah. “Seriously?”

He nods.

“What about you?” I ask of him.

“When I graduated high school and packed my bags for this place, I assumed I’d hop on a pastoral track and enjoy the ride.” Jonah’s cocky statement catches me slightly off guard. “But, the more I listen to your da—Roland’s sermons, the more I realize … I don’t think this school stands for much of what Jesus taught at all. At least not from what I can see. And the school’s model of
Christ-like
is causing me to question my relationship with God. My
faith
.”

Jonah’s features darken, and a rare anger circles his eyes. I’ve sensed he’s been struggling with something, but assumed it had to do with his relationship with his dad, not that Carter University was dismantling his belief.

“It’s fine.” I wave my hand in an effort of levity. “We can just use
dad
, I guess, since that’s what he is. But, is this why you don’t want me to tell him about this?”

Marla nods. “That and he’s a faculty member. And, even though he
is
your dad … I don’t know, we just need to be sure.”

I look around the table and a helpless chuckle erupts from my chest. “What’s your plan here? To take down the faculty? Shut down the university? If you all hate it so much, why are you here?”

“You aren’t listening,” Jonah says gravely. “With some exceptions,” he eyes John, “most of us want to be here. I like that this school focuses on the Bible and works to groom us to be respectful, responsible adults. I just think that it’s become a caricature of itself over the last ten years. Rules have gotten stricter as society has gotten more out of control. Rather than reaching out to those who are struggling, the university seems to be locking us further and further from reality.”

Caitlyn
, having regained some composure, speaks up. “A third of the students who leave here go
on
to work
in
public policy in one capacity or another. How prepared, socially, do you think we can be to live in a city like D.C. when we’re not even allowed to go off campus with someone of the opposite sex by ourselves?”

“Or,” Matt interjects, “when we can’t even have a true, healthy debate about politics in class.”

John looks restless. “I mean, yeah we’re supposed to be like sheep to slaughter, but not at the hands of our own people. And, not in this context. Not blindly following along without stretching, learning, and growing.”

I look to Matt, certain I’m missing a biblical reference.

“Romans eight.” He waves his hand, almost sounding annoyed.

Checking my phone, I see my break was up five minutes ago. “Okay,” I sigh, “so what is the purpose then?”

They all look to each other and seem to silently decide that Jonah will speak for them, which is hardly surprising.

“We want a university that will not only match our real beliefs, but model the life of Christ, not the life of Christians.” His eyes stay on me while the message takes root in my brain.

Roland’s last sermon was titled “Jesus was not a Christian,” and focused on legalism and it’s downfalls. Which, now that I think about it, must have driven some of the faculty completely insane. I’m not well-versed on legalism, or what it means, but it seems that I’m in the right place to study just that.

“So you want to, what, get some people fired?” I stand, and slowly push in my chair.

Matt shrugs. “We don’t know. We don’t know how it works. But we do know that you have … experience in this kind of stuff. Don’t say anything.” He holds up his hand when I begin to protest. “You’ve been to more protests than we have, and you’ve been standing on the opposite side of the street from anyone sitting in the administration.”

This is true.

“And,” Jonah continues, “I know that you have a heart for Jesus, Kennedy. I don’t mean to get all spiritual here, but it’s true. I’ve watched you this whole semester and your words and actions aren’t harmful or vile, like my upbringing would lead me to believe someone like you would be. We need you on our side. While we figure out exactly what it is we’re going to do.”

“There’s more of you, aren’t there?” It wouldn’t make sense to have all this passion from a simple group of freshman. With the exception of Marla, who I recognize as an RA of another girls’ dorm.

“Yeah,” John chuckles. “A shitload more.”

“Watch your mouth,” Marla scolds. “I told you
,
you can’t do that all the time.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “But, yeah. Why do you think the university is so weird about encouraging us to attend UC services instead of or in addition to the New Life services on Sundays? They know that your dad is right, and if enough people believe them then they’re in big trouble.”

Caitlyn
sits forward. “It wasn’t always like that. The UC used to run strictly mid-week services. They only opened on Sundays for individual prayer or special occasions.”

“Seriously?” I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion.

Matt nods. “Yep. But once your dad got the position as pastor there, they went into freak out mode.”

“I’ll help,” I blurt out. “And not necessarily because I agree with what you’re trying to do, because I don’t know where I stand. I don’t have enough information. But, at the very least I can help you get your acts together. You need a goal, some organization, and a little leadership. You can’t have a hundred rabid dogs running around gunning for faculty.”

“Thank you,” Matt says, standing.

I arch an eyebrow. “We have some talking to do.”

He nods. “Study group?”

I nod back.

“I’ve got to get back to work guys … you all know where to find me if you need me.”

Walking back behind the counter, I feel like I’m slowly waking from the weirdest dream I’ve ever had.

“Lost track of time,” I half-whisper to Asher as I tie on my apron. “Sorry."

Asher watches
as
my friends leave, and looks back at me with an amused expression playing on his lips. “What was that about?”

Putting my hands on my hips, I nod toward the door with a sigh. “That’s the resistance. God help us all.”