My Name Is Chloe (21 page)

Well, anyway, my comment about Caleb pretty much put a damper on my dad this morning. And for that I felt bad. I hadn’t meant to rain on his
parade. Not really. And who knows, maybe a cruise would be a good thing for Josh. Even though he acts like it’s all just fine and dandy, I know he’s still hurting from Caitlin’s breakup.

So later this evening when I saw my dad intently searching the Net, perusing the travel networks for good cruise deals, I didn’t say anything negative. In fact, I just pretended not to notice.

But now I’m thinking, am I crazy? Why am I willing to pass up a perfectly good Caribbean cruise just to stay home and play at a coffeehouse? But I am. I realized right away that I shouldn’t mention the possibility of any of this to Laura and Allie. For one thing, I’m the one who set up the coffeehouse gig in the first place. But besides that, I can just hear Allie digging into me for giving up an opportunity like that. She’d kill to go on a cruise. Okay, not kill, since that would be wrong. Anyway, I kept my mouth closed about this during practice today.

Just as we were quitting, Allie did a little drumroll (on her new and very cool drum set). “I have an announcement to make.” She pulled out a folder. “The artwork for our new CD cover is ready for your approval.”

Laura and I went over to get a closer look, waiting for her to unveil her creation.

“Here it is!” She held up what looked to be a
collage and upon closer inspection was really quite good. She’d taken a photo of us (from the night she’d barfed on my guitar), pasted it along with some other things, and then done some drawing with ink on top and written the word
Redemption
in scraggly red letters.

“This is really cool, Allie,” I said. “I can see this as a CD cover.”

“I don’t know …” Laura frowned. “It’s so edgy looking. Is that really the image we want?”

We both turned and looked at Laura. I think it was one of the few times when I really saw Laura the way most people probably see her. I guess I sort of think of myself as not really looking on the exterior of people so much. Oh, I know I have my hang-ups—particularly with people who look too perfect—but for the most part, I try not to put too much stock into appearances. But just then, as Laura was making this statement about image, it hit me: She looks pretty much like a preppy. An African-American preppy chick. Then I turned and looked at Allie. I have to admit I think I’ve had an influence on her looks, because she dresses kind of like me now. Mind of grunge or urban or I-couldn’t-care-less-what-you-think kind of look. And I think she looks pretty cool.

Then we were both looking at Laura, and I think we both had the same expression on our faces.

“What?” demanded Laura defensively.

“I don’t know …” I shrugged. “I guess I never really thought we had to have an image.”

Laura firmly shook her head. “No way. I don’t buy that. You get up every day and you look in the mirror and then dress like a bum, and now you’re saying you don’t think we need to have an image?”

I laughed. “You think I dress like a bum?”

She nodded. “Well, what do you expect me or anyone else to think, for that matter? You both are into this
look
. But I’m sorry; it’s not for everyone. And it’s definitely not for me.”

“Sheesh, Laura.” I scratched my head. “It’s like you’ve really given this some thought.”

She walked over to the other side of the room and sank down onto the old couch against the wall and just sighed.

We followed her over there. Allie perched on a couch arm, I flopped onto the floor, and we both just looked at her. “Does the way we look really bother you?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“Come on, tell us the truth,” urged Allie.

“Yeah, sure it bothers me.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” I asked.

She pushed the sleeves of her sweater up and leaned forward. “Well, at first when we first started jamming, I told myself it didn’t matter. I mean, I thought you were a really good musician,
Chloe, and I just wanted to play with you for fun, hoping that I’d get better. I didn’t seriously think we’d become a real band. And besides, I knew you weren’t a Christian to start out, and Allie was all into her witchcraft stuff, and I guess as time passed and things changed, I figured that eventually—” she waved her hands and rolled her eyes—“you guys would just change too.”

I had to laugh. “But haven’t we?”

“Of course you’ve changed, but you still look just as ratty as ever. In fact, Allie looks worse.”

“Hey, thanks a lot.” Allie frowned.

“So what are we supposed to do now?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” She looked at us. “I guess I’m really the odd one out here.”

“Do you think Allie and I should change to look like you?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s probably not fair.”

“And I don’t think we should force you to look like us,” I said.

“Thanks.”

“So maybe we should change our name to Preppy and the Rats,” I suggested.

This made her laugh. “No, I like our name, and I actually think Allie’s cover looks pretty cool. But I do think it’s weird when we perform and look like we belong in two different groups.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Me neither,” added Allie.

“Okay, then it bothers me. I guess I’m the image-conscious one of the group.”

I shrugged. “I don’t think it matters that much, Laura. I’ve seen groups where everyone looks different. It’s just who they are.”

“But maybe I don’t want to be different!” And then for the first time ever, we saw Laura cry.

We both sat on the couch and put our arms around her. “We’re all different, Laura,” I said. “That’s what makes us work so good together. It’s how God made us.”

“I know.” She sniffed. “But it’s not fair; I’m different already. I’m black, if you haven’t noticed, and you guys are pretty white. I guess I just don’t want to be totally different, you know?”

“So what are you saying?” asked Allie.

“Well, maybe I should try to look a little more like you guys—just for when we perform. I’m not going to go to school looking all, you know—”

“Ratty,” I filled in for her.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“So how can we help?” I asked. “You want us to loan you some ratty clothes?”

Allie giggled. “That ratty word just kills me.”

“And I’m not piercing anything,” Laura warned us.

“No one wants you to.” Allie put her hand on
Laura’s straightened hair. “But can we mess up your hair a little?”

Laura smiled. “Just as long as you don’t use scissors.”

“All right then,” said Allie. “I think we can make you look almost as ratty as us.”

So we went up to my closet and found some clothes that Laura was willing to wear for our next gig. “Can I be in charge of Laura’s new look?” asked Allie, her eyes bright with excitement.

“Sure, I don’t care. Just don’t pressure her into something she doesn’t like.” I patted Laura on the back. “I really want to respect your individuality here. I guess it kind of bugs me that you feel the need to change your image. You sure about this?”

She nodded. “It’s been bugging me for a long time. But I kept thinking you guys would change.” Then she grinned. “To tell you the truth, it seems as if you’re the ones who look the most like musicians anyway. And I suppose underneath my little preppy exterior I was plain jealous.”

“Hey, as long as you’re happy,” I said. “I’m cool.”

So, I guess it’s settled. Although I still feel a little uneasy. And if Laura changes her mind and wants to stick with her preppy look, I’ll be happy. I don’t like the idea of someone changing her look just to fit in with someone else.

Today is my birthday, but I really didn’t have any big expectations. I never even told anyone that it was my birthday—not that I can remember anyway. But just as I was coming out of choir, I felt someone grab me from behind. I’m sure my heart stopped for a moment because I felt certain it was Tiffany and her thugs getting ready to beat me up again. I actually wondered if I’d be able to turn the other cheek this time, but I honestly felt fairly certain I would not (and this still troubles me some …).

Fortunately it was Laura, and I began to breathe again. “Now, don’t be afraid, Miss Miller,” she said in a voice that I’m sure she thought I wouldn’t recognize. “Just cooperate with us and no one will get hurt.” Then I heard giggles. First they held my hands behind my back and then actually tied them together, gently, then they put a blindfold over my eyes. I later learned that there was a pair of construction paper “sunglasses” taped to this contraption that said “Boy Watcher” on them. How embarrassing! Then I was
loaded into a car, which I would later discover to be Laura’s Neon, and driven to an undisclosed location. I could tell that Allie was one of the group, as well as LaDonna and Mercedes and a couple others. Laura’s little car was packed full!

After they parked, they walked me (still blindfolded) it felt like in circles and up and down steps—all amid a lot of giggling—until finally they seated me and removed the blindfold. We were in Daffys, a restaurant that specializes in lots of noise and birthdays. And Cesar and Jake and Spencer were there too, along with a few others. I think there were about fifteen of us altogether. And what a strange mix we were too. But that just made it all the more memorable and totally cool.

All in all it was a great day. Dad even picked me up after school and took me over to the department of motor vehicles and waited for me to take my driving test (I’d been bugging him for weeks). And amazingly, despite forgetting to adjust my rearview mirror, I passed! Then Dad actually let me drive his BMW all by myself after we got home. I went over and picked up Allie and Laura and we went out for ice cream. Totally cool. And now I am sixteen.

Thanks to Josh (I owe him big-time) we are not, I repeat
not
, going off to cruise the Caribbean during spring break. And so our gig at the Samaritan coffeehouse is still on. The reason for this disruption of parental plans is that Josh has decided to go down to Mexico during spring break, to give the orphanage some much needed funding
that he and his buddies raised plus a hand with a building project.

Actually, I think it might be some sort of therapy for him as well—to help him mend his broken heart, which I’m pretty sure is quite broken. Anyway, I think Josh promised the parents to do the cruise next year. But fortunately that’s a long ways off. And since I was feeling very grateful to my big brother, as well as concerned for my “big sister” Caitlin, I decided to hop on a bus and visit her at school. I hoped that maybe I could cheer her up a little.

And as it turned out, I did. Or at least she said that I did. And I don’t think she would lie. She’s been pretty down, and I think she needed a little distraction (like me). Anyway, we had a good time, and I got to meet her roommate Liz, who has actually turned out to be a pretty decent sort of person. Okay, she’s a little on the cynical side (kind of like I used to be), but I really like her. And I filled Caitlin in on all the latest news about our band and our recent successes and invited her to come to the Samaritan coffeehouse during spring break, which she pretty much promised to do.

So I left feeling like Caitlin is going to be okay. Sure, she seems a little more sober than before. But maybe that’s just part of growing up. And I still believe that when the time is right, she and Josh will get back together—and will get
married—
happily
married. I just think that, right now, they both (and maybe mostly Josh) have some more growing up to do. I know that’s got to sound slightly ridiculous coming from the lips of a sixteen-year-old, but that’s the way I see it. And just for the record, I’m keeping this information strictly between me and my journal and God.

We had a woman speak to our church today (a friend of Pastor Tony’s). She’s from a mission group that works in eastern European countries (like Bulgaria, Romania, Slovakia) by setting up Christian girls’ schools. She told about how they provide quality education (not to mention room and board) to girls who’ve been orphaned and could end up making their living off the streets.

For some reason what this mission group is doing seemed really important to me. I actually cried when she told the story of a thirteen-year-old girl who’d been rescued from prostitution and was now just finishing med school with a brilliant future ahead. And afterward a special offering was taken to help these schools out and all I had was five dollars, which I gave, but I wanted to do something more. I thought about Caitlin and how she got her church involved (in a big way) to reach out to the orphanage in Mexico.

So after church was over and almost everyone was gone or out in the parking lot shooting the breeze, I noticed Pastor Tony joining Steph and the boys over in the back. So I went over and said, “Hi.”