Torch Red: Color Me Torn with Bonus Content (17 page)

“Ex
cuse
me?” I try to use a fairly insulting tone now. I mean this girl does
not
seem to get it. I thought I’d made myself clear about her dissing Justin like this.

“Oh, I’m not trying to judge Justin, but you know he has a reputation, and I don’t see why you—”

“Who doesn’t have a reputation?” I suddenly wish I hadn’t asked. Even an idiot can see where she’ll take this.

She points to herself. “Moi.”

“You
do
have a reputation, Casey. It just doesn’t have anything to do with sex.”

“The thing is, Zoë,” she continues, totally oblivious that I’d rather be talking to a stone than to her, “God has a plan for our lives. He has someone really special picked out for you, and if you waste yourself on someone else, you’ll be sorry when the real thing comes along.”

“When the real thing comes along?” I frown at her. “That sounds like a TV ad.”

“I mean when God brings your future husband into your life.” She points her finger at me now, a practice I can barely tolerate in anyone. “How are you going to feel when the man you truly love, the man you want to spend the rest of your life with, have children with, comes along and you have to tell him that you’ve already had sex with who knows how many other men?”

Well, how do you respond to something like that? I mean all I can do is just sit there and stare at her as I wonder,
What planet did this chick beam down from? And when is she going back?

“I’m serious, Zoë.” This girl is relentless. “What are you going to tell him?”

“Who?” I ask dumbly.

“Your future husband.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know my future husband.”

“But when you meet him, when you’re engaged, about to be married . . . what are you going to tell him about the guys you’ve slept with and—”

“Hey,” I say defensively. “I haven’t slept with—” Then I stop myself. Why should I tell Casey that I’m still a virgin, especially when most of my friends think I’m not?

“See,” she says triumphantly. “It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?”

“You
make me uncomfortable,” I tell her as I stand up.

“It’s not me, Zoë,” she says with confidence. “It’s God.”

Well, I don’t even respond to that as I walk over to the drinking fountain and take a long cool drink. I can’t believe that Casey Renwick, of all people, is able to push my buttons like that. What is up with her?

“Casey getting to you?” asks Nate from behind me.

I stand up, wipe my mouth, and stare at him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to pick up where she left off,” I say in a fairly hostile voice. “What? Do you Christians have some kind of game plan to drive the rest of us bonkers until we fall down our knees and beg God to help us?”

He laughs. “Not really. But it might be worth a shot.”

“Yeah, you bet.”

“Hey, I’m sorry if Casey comes on too strong. But she probably thinks she’s doing it for God’s sake.”

“Well, for God’s sake, I wish she’d knock it off.”

“Me too.”

“She acts like she knows what’s best for everyone.”

Nate seems to consider this then nods. “A lot of Christians make that same mistake.”

“Do you?”

“Oh, yeah, lots of times. But I’m trying to break the habit.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, I’m trying to think about the way that Jesus dealt with stuff,” he tells me as we sit in the back row of the auditorium.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Like he’d come across someone who was obviously blowing it and he wouldn’t get mad at the person or call them names or act like he was superior.”

“What would he do?”

“Become their friend.”

A little light goes on. “Oh,” I say. “Is that why you’re trying to be my friend?”

He looks slightly sheepish. “Well, I wish I could say that it was because of God, Zoë. But the truth is, I’ve always thought you were pretty cool. I always wanted to get to know you.”

Somehow this makes me feel better. “Thanks,” I tell him. “So, you’re not really trying to convert me or anything?”

“That’s God’s business,” he says. “I just want to be your friend.”

“Well, that’s cool.” I glance at my watch now and realize it’s close to quitting time. “Hey, friend, do you want to give me a ride home?”

“Sure, no problem.”

And so I find myself riding home in Nate’s old clunker pickup. He
tells me that he likes it because it has a canopy in back where he and his band can stow their stuff when they’re doing a gig somewhere.

“People actually pay you to play?” I ask.

He frowns then laughs. “Yeah, I suppose it seems unlikely.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” I quickly tell him. “I just didn’t know if there’d be much money in religious music.”

“We don’t call it religious music,” he says.

“Christian music?” I try.

“It’s just music that’s played by guys who love God,” he says in a slightly weary voice, like maybe he’s had to explain this before.

Now I feel sort of bad. “I actually thought you guys were really good at the soup kitchen,” I say. “And if I hadn’t known it was you I probably wouldn’t even have known you guys were Christians.”

Now he really laughs. “You seem to have some pretty judgmental thoughts when it comes to Christians, Zoë. Why is that?”

I consider this. “I’m not sure. I mean my parents are Christians and I think they’re pretty cool. And you’re a Christian and I think you’re cool.”

He smiles now. “Thanks.”

“But then there are people like Casey Renwick.” I make a face. “She just makes me want to run screaming from God.”

“But she’s just one person.”

“Then there was my fifth-grade Sunday school teacher,” I begin to say and wish I hadn’t. I thought I’d forgotten about that woman.

“And?”

“Well, she was this uptight lady who got mad about everything, and she even made this boy cry one day because he forgot to bring his offering.”

“That’s too bad.”

“And she was so mean that I quit wanting to go to church, and
I decided that God wasn’t very nice if he let people like Mrs. Daniels teach Sunday school.” Now I feel kind of silly, like this is no reason to turn my back on God. So I continue. “And then I got older and I read about things that have happened during history, things that were done in the name of Christianity. Things like the Crusades where innocent people were murdered for not being Catholic. Or wars over religion. I mean even Hitler claimed that God was on his side. I finally just got totally sick of the whole religion thing.”

“Do you believe that God controls people? That he made them do those evil things like Crusades and religious wars?”

I consider this and feel fairly certain that God isn’t controlling me like that, so how could he control anyone else? “Probably not.”

“So is it fair to blame God for other peoples’ bad choices and mistakes?”

“Maybe not.”

“And do you think God was pleased with all that crud? Like the Crusades and killing and wars?”

I just shake my head no. “Turn on this street,” I tell him in a quiet voice.

“Sorry,” he says as he turns. “I guess I’m as bad as Casey. I really didn’t mean to preach at you, Zoë.”

We’re at my house now and I feel slightly offended by the lecture, but I’m not exactly mad at him. “It’s okay, Nate,” I say as I reach for the door handle. “If anything I suppose you’ve made me think.”

“Thinking’s okay,” he says with a smile. “Right?”

I smile back at him. “Yeah, thinking’s probably okay.”

“Mostly I just wanted to tell you that I think God has a really great plan for your life, Zoë. I mean you’re such a cool girl, and the way you helped Shannon, and volunteer at the soup kitchen . . . well, I just think that God has big plans for you.”

Well, I’m not too sure what that means, but at least it sounds encouraging. “Thanks for the ride,” I tell him as I climb from the pickup.

And so, between Casey Renwick and Nate Stein, I suppose I am thinking about God a bit more today. And I’m wondering if God really does have a plan for my life. Well, it’s kind of mind-boggling, but I guess I’m curious. It’s not like my own plans are anything to brag about these days.

N
EW GOSSIP BREAKS OUT ON
F
RIDAY MORNING AND IT’S NOT LONG BEFORE
everyone is talking about it.

I get the scoop during second period. “Did you hear about Shawna?” Kirsti asks me during English lit. We’re supposed to be reading
Ivanhoe
, but Mr. Franklin has stepped out for a minute. That’s when I glance around the room and notice that Shawna is absent.

“What happened?” Maybe Shawna’s been in a car wreck or something tragic, which makes me feel horrible, since I’ve been so snooty to her all week.

I can tell Kirsti is thrilled that I haven’t heard yet. She loves to be the one to spill bad news. “Well, remember how Andrea’s cousin Caleb goes to Jackson High?”

“Yeah.”

“It seems he told Andrea that Shawna transferred from their school because she has some horrible STD and she was too embarrassed to keep going there.”

“STD?” That sounds familiar, but I’m kind of stuck as I ask myself what those initials stand for.

“Sexually transmitted disease.”

“Oh, yeah.” Now I feel stupid.

“I guess it’s a really bad kind that takes special medication to
treat but never totally goes away.” Then in true Kirsti fashion she goes into all this gory and graphic detail.

“Eww!” I make a face at her and hold up my hands to make her stop. “Too much information!”

“Well, that’s what happens, Zoë.” She looks at me like I’m a baby, but I don’t even care.

“Yeah, whatever.” But now I remember what Shawna and Todd have been doing during play rehearsal and I’m feeling worried. “But you say it’s
really
contagious?” I ask Kirsti and she gives me this “would I lie to you?” nod. So I glance over to where Emily is sitting just a few seats from me and I notice that she seems unusually focused on her book, especially considering that Mr. Franklin is nowhere to be seen. But as I watch more carefully I can tell that her eyes aren’t moving over the words. She’s not even reading! That’s how I know she’s heard the news about Shawna too. Poor Emily.

I try to comfort her at lunch, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. And when the other girls seem unable to shut up, Emily just splits.

“I don’t see what
her
problem is,” says Thea in an aggravated tone. “I mean we have a right to talk about this and be worried for our own sakes. I’ve heard that Shawna’s a real tramp and I happen to know that Brett has been cheating on me with someone. For all I know it could be little Miss STD.”

“Oh, Thea,” says Andrea with exasperation. “You make me wish I’d never told anyone.” She slowly shakes her head and sighs loudly. “The only reason I did was so that you guys could watch out. I mean the way
some people
act, it could turn into an epidemic around here.”

“Duh,” says Kirsti, who turns her attention back to Thea now. “So have you asked Brett if he’s been with her?”

“Yeah, but he denies it.”

“Guys always deny it,” says Kirsti, who’s also looking a little uneasy.

And so it goes until I can’t take this discussion anymore. I slip away and go off in search of Justin. I haven’t seen him since this morning when he gave me a ride to school, and we barely talked then. But now I wonder if he’s heard the news and if so, what’s his reaction? I remember how he thought I was making too big a deal over Todd and Shawna. But what does he have to say about that now? Finally I find him by his locker, but it’s almost time for fifth period.

“Hey, babe,” he says, smiling as he reaches to give me a hug.

“What’s up?” I ask. “Where were you during lunch?”

“I went to a college recruiting meeting in the counseling center,” he tells me. “This college sounds like a pretty cool place and because they’re kind of small I might even be able to apply for a football scholarship.”

“That’s cool.” Then I ask if he’s heard about Shawna yet.

He rolls his eyes. “Who hasn’t?”

“Don’t you think that’s awful?” I say.

He just shrugs. “It happens.”

“But she might’ve infected Todd,” I say quietly enough that no one can hear me. “And, who knows, he could’ve infected Emily—”

“And Emily could’ve infected Josh and—”

I punch him in the arm now. “Hey, watch what you say about my best friend.”

“Well, you’re the one who got going on this whole thing.”

Just then the bell rings and our conversation comes to an end. Still, I feel a little disturbed by his response. Like he honestly thinks it’s no big deal.

Due to an overly zealous soccer match in PE, I don’t actually get to talk to Emily until we’re in the locker room. “How are you doing?”
I ask quietly, before the other girls start piling in around us.

I can tell by her red eyes that she’s been crying. “I’m getting by,” she says.

“Have you talked to Todd yet?”

She shakes her head. “What am I supposed to say?”

“Hey,” says Thea as she throws her damp towel at Emily. “What are you so bummed about, girlfriend?”

Emily forces a pitiful smile. “Can’t you cut a girl some slack for being premenstrual?”