Ruby Unscripted (25 page)

Something in the words
meaning
and
purpose
reverberates through me like the beat of bass through a woofer. They are what I've wanted for as long as I can remember. Yet I haven't thought much about my life having meaning or a purpose in a while. Since moving here, my thoughts have been mostly about me, and the things I want, and the things that interest me. Even my friendship with Kate has been more about her supporting me, and she's the one who needs the support.

“Ruby, I wish I could give you the key to life's answers. But what I know is this. Seek God for what to do in your life. Seek God to know meaning and to know Him. Ask Him to guide you into who He wants you to be.”

“But how do you know when God is telling you something?”

“When I'm trying to decide where to go in the world next, I spin the globe with my eyes shut and stop it spinning someplace—”

Natasha laughs then as she sees my incredulous look.

“I'm kidding. Well, okay, sometimes I do that for fun. But to hear God, I always have to listen carefully while I'm seeking Him. You seek God by just talking to Him with your open and honest heart. And then you listen.”

“The small, still voice—there's a verse about that, I think.”

“Some say it's your own intuition, your inner self speaking. But I don't agree.”

“Why not?”

“It's important to pay attention to the intuition and common sense God gave us. But I think if someone is truly seeking God, the one true God who created love and life, and they listen in the stillness, God will speak. So follow that quiet voice.”

Later that night, I prop myself up in bed and reach for my journal. I've been thinking all day about my conversation with Natasha. I write “Finding God's Purpose” at the top of a page, and underneath I write questions as fast as I think of them: “What am I drawn to? Is it good for me? Am I talented at it? What gets in the way of my doing it? Am I listening for the small, still voice?”

I wonder how many other people are like me. Most of my friends back home don't write out goals or God's-purpose lists. They appear content to just live, be in their clubs, play sports and train, and focus on getting good grades to get into good colleges to get good jobs. But my brain won't stop there. I need meaning. I want to do something special and be someone special. Is that wrong?

My phone beeps in the middle of these thoughts. I can't resist looking to see who sent a text.

Nick.

Regret comes quickly. I meant to call him earlier.

NICK:
So have you picked our colors yet? My mom wants to get my tie tomorrow.

Is it cowardly to do this through a text message? Yes, it's totally cowardly.

NICK:
And do you want a wrist corsage or one that pins to your dress. My mom thought the wrist one so it doesn't mess up your dress.

I should call him. I should dial his number right now.

ME:
Nick.

NICK:
Yeah?

ME:
I can't come.

NICK:
Ha-ha.

I drop the phone on my lap and stare at the one piece of artwork I've hung in my room. A poster of a Salvador Dali painting. In the painting, the artist painted himself painting, but he's also staring out from the canvas and extending a hand as if to seek a hand of help to pull him from the canvas. Though right now, I think maybe he's actually offering a hand, reaching out, and if only I could grasp it, he'd pull me away from all this and into the surrealistic world of the painting.

Ah, yes,
perspective
. I need to think of Nick and not put this off any longer.

My phone buzzes again.

NICK:
You're kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding.

ME:
Wish I was. I'm really sorry.

NICK:
Wait, no. You have to come.

ME:
It's a long story, but I really can't come.

NICK:
Uh. K.

ME:
Do you think you can find someone else?

NICK:
Now? It was a stretch for you to say yes. But then it worked out with Nikki. She would've gone with me and . . .

ME:
I'm so so sorry. What can I do?

NICK:
Come be my date.

chapter twenty-two

“So he probably hates me,” I say to Mom. It's a few minutes before time to leave for school. I didn't sleep well again, and when I did, my head was full of strange dreams, both good and bad.

Mom and I stand in the kitchen eating cereal and drinking coffee.

“He won't go alone or in a group?” Mom asks as she chews her organic, cardboardy-looking oat bran cereal.

“What guy would? Not the jock kind anyway.”

“I meant to remind you to call him yesterday. The opportunity with your film group sort of blinded my parental judgment, and then I had that article due last night. I do wonder whether it's right to ruin Nick's prom because something better came along. You did give him your word.”

“But you said I should—”

“I know. But if he can't find a date, we really should keep your commitment to him.”

“Then I'd miss the main work weekend on the film. They may not let me stay in the group if I'm not here.”

“Yes, I know. And I was going to tell you that your group could have the work weekend here,” Mom says. “Austin and I will hardly be here this weekend. We're meeting your dad partway to drop Mac, then to pick him up.”

“I heard my name,” Mac says, walking into the kitchen with his backpack on over his pajamas.

“We could hang out upstairs, or if everything looked okay, maybe we'd spend the weekend in the garage apartment . . .” She's mumbling to herself as she plans it out, then returns to our discussion. “There would be no drinking or drugs or anything going on, right?”

“Like she'd tell you,” Mac says and laughs at himself for being so clever.

“It's an intense work weekend. I can't imagine Rob allowing any sort of partying. There'll be coffee, Monsters, and Red Bulls, I'm sure.”

“Let me talk to Austin, but you first need to figure out the prom. I know what I'd like for you, but I want you to do the right thing too.”

But what is the right thing to do?
I wonder. Mom isn't being very helpful in this.

On the way to school, I get a text from Jeffers.

JEFFERS:
Wow, you aren't the favorite person in Cottonwood right now.

ME:
So everyone hates me?

JEFFERS:
I didn't say that.

ME:
Nick probably does. Though I'm still going to be his date if he can't find someone else.

JEFFERS:
Okay, I admit this to you and you alone. Nick is one of my best friends, but let's face it, that ego of his can get a bit too big for a head that's not that great.

ME:
Nick has an ego?

JEFFERS:
He hides it well, I'll give him that. But in sports, he's gotta be the best or else it's excuses as to why he's not. And why hasn't he had a girlfriend before? Is it because he's shy, or can't make up his mind, or is intimidated by smart women like you—oh no. He's a tightwad and doesn't want the work of a girlfriend. Now it's like some kind of monster has been unleashed. He'll be a player in college, I can see it already.

ME:
I still feel bad leaving him without a date.

JEFFERS:
Yeah, but you really shouldn't. He's going with Jackie.

ME:
He is! He didn't even tell me.

Funny how offended I am rhar he's replaced me so quickly. And yet this should be a relief—an answer to prayer if I'd prayed. It is a relief too, but another part of me wanted to see my friends and maybe make up with Kate.

JEFFERS:
That guy needs to be dumped. All this drama around him is making him really hard to be around.

ME:
What's Kate say about all this?

JEFFERS:
She isn't saying much. Everyone knows the two of you had a fight. But it's understandable.

ME:
Why do you say that?

JEFFERS:
Sometimes we gotta say things that our friends don't like. That's what a true friend is.

ME:
So you think what she said was right?

JEFFERS:
What she said to you? Huh, what? I'm confused. I heard that you didn't like her having a grown man as her boyfriend.

ME:
Everyone knows about that? I thought he was a secret.

JEFFERS:
Did you move to Mars? Of course everyone knows. Didn't you know her parents caught her at his apartment? She's grounded for like forever. I think till she's thirty or something.

ME:
No way!

I immediately send a note to Kate.

ME TO KATE:
I heard what happened? Are you okay?

An auto-response comes back to me:

Kate is unavailable at this time and for the near future.

ME TO JEFFERS:
No way!!!! I just tried writing her.

JEFFERS:
I don't want any of my friends dating some college guy. She's too naive. He probably took advantage of that. He did, didn't he?

ME:
I told her she was naive too. And I don't know anything else.

JEFFERS:
That means he did.

ME:
No, it doesn't.

JEFFERS:
So they didn't.

ME:
Didn't?

JEFFERS:
So they DID! I knew itl We'll kill him.

ME:
Wait, stop, no!

JEFFERS:
No?

ME:
What do I know, we had a fight, remember?

So it's a bit of another lie, but Jeffers doesn't need to know something that personal, and shouldn't even ask. Jeffers would spread it all over the school in the excuse of protecting her.

My friend needs me. And I'm hundreds of miles and quite a few commitments away.

He stares into the book like he's searching into a deep well trying to find something. I don't interrupt him but instead sit beside Josef on the other end of the table with my heart doing such a tuck and roll that the breath I take sounds more like a gasp. Josef glances up at me like maybe I saw a ghost, but I act like nothing is wrong, say hello, and pull out a notebook from my book bag.

Kaden hasn't looked up.

He said he'd e-mail me, but he didn't. Rob mentioned family trouble, and I wonder what that was about. A family death, mother with cancer, car accident?

I've tried to forget Kaden, be angry at him, but seeing him at the other end of the table, immersed in a thick book, I'm surprised again by the attraction I feel.

His dark lashes remain angled downward as he turns the page. What is he reading? His hands draw my attention next; long, thin fingers hold the book, and his pinky finger looks a little crooked, like my right pinky. People are chatting around us, but Kaden is lost in the world of the pages.

A static noise makes me look around. “Starship to Ruby, are you out there, Ruby?”

Josef 's voice sounds exactly like a Starfleet commander over an intercom. It makes me laugh.

“Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I asked you on a date?”