As fun and interesting as I'm sure the late hours of Saturday night were, I, for one, wouldn't know, though I had a lovely time studying the inside of my eyelids. After two nights in a row of getting very little sleep followed by extremely active days, my body decided it had enough, so after a heavenly warm shower, I stumbled into the theatre room only to collapse on the floor between Laura and Randi and the nest we had created the night before. This time, however, only halfway through some chick flick that I wasn't even paying enough attention to identify, amid the hushed chatter of Cady and Leslie, and Laura's moderate snoring, I fell into a deep sleep that lasted through the night and didn't let me go until Sally flickered the lights the next morning, yelling, "It's seven o'clock. Get up!"
It was highly unlike me to sleep in that late, and the fact that I did completely threw off my morning routine as I suddenly found myself without my usual extra hour or two to just putter around. Not to mention, besides getting ready for church, we had to pack and clean up, so it's understandable that I felt far more rushed than I would have liked. When Alison asked us all to sit down in the theatre room at a quarter after eight, I did so with a frustrated sigh, thinking of all the things I needed to be doing.
Once we were all quietly listening, Alison explained, "I just want to really thank all of you girls for making this such a wonderful weekend for me. I'm new to this Discipleship Now thing, and then I didn't know any of you beforehand, but I've had an amazing time, and I hope all of you have, too. So, here's something to thank you, I guess," she laughed, motioning to six small gift bags at her side, each with one of our names on it. "They're nothing special, but . . . " She passed them out and, as we began digging through them, added, "Oh, and for the little photo books --I took a lot of pictures this weekend, so once those are developed, I'll have copies for you guys to put in there."
I laughed as I pulled out a box of Strawberry Shortcake band-aids, a box of Rugrat band-aids, several little bags of candy, an egg of silly putty, a small pink book for photographs, a key chain that said, 'Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly,' and a small koosh ball.
"I figured you could play with the koosh ball without getting hurt," Alison teased. "Though now, the more that I think about it . . . well, you've got the band-aids now."
We all hugged and thanked her for the fun gifts and regretted we had nothing to give her or Sally, but Sally assured us with a smile that leaving her house was present enough. We helped each other carry bags and sleeping bags and pillows out to Sally's and Tim's cars, and even chucked a couple of the smaller bags into Troy's car, since he was taking his own so he could pick up his girlfriend on the way to church.
I was the first person in the car and sighed as I clambered over the seat to get into the very back, "This makes me sad. It's the last time I'm going to get to fling myself over this blasted back seat."
"I tell you what: when you come over here to make breakfast for my family once a month, I'll let you come out here and just climb back there, over and over to your heart's desire, okay?" Sally offered.
"Really? Well, I'll take you up on that if I can bring Amber with me . . . " We laughed as Sally suddenly grew very quiet and pinched her lips and glanced over to Tim's truck where Amber was making herself comfortable in the passenger's seat.
We made the most of our final drive in Sally's car, screaming at the top of our lungs along with the radio, the windows rolled down so that our voices carried out and in came a chilly breeze that zipped through the car, blowing our hair every which way and bringing with it the smell of impending rain. Grey clouds blocked out the sun, giving downtown Grapevine a slow, heavy, sleepy feel.
The youth center was already wide awake and active as we walked in, kids in the blue sweatshirts running all over the place. I felt bad for the youth students arriving who hadn't attended Discipleship Now weekend and I'm sure felt as awkward as they looked, all dressed up amid a sea of jeans and blue sweatshirts.
The band boys weren't anywhere to be seen, and I came to the conclusion with a disappointed frown that they must have decided not to come after all. The stage looked empty without their instruments and provided further proof that they had already ducked out, and I hadn't even really gotten to say good-bye. The thought was enough to depress me, but Dalton wasn't about to let that happen and, throwing the foursquare ball to me, demanded I help him get a game started.
As a rule when I play foursquare with the youth group, I'm required to start in the lowest square, and I'm judged especially harshly by whomever has been nominated to play referee. It was sort of an ongoing joke among all the boys, or rather a silent agreement that getting me out took top priority in any foursquare game. Apparently, my easily winning three separate foursquare tournaments matched with the knowledge that I was a girl proved just too much for their little male competitive drives to bear. They shouldn't have felt bad --I played hard. I wasn't quite as good as they all made me out to be, but I didn't play often with them anymore, since all the extra rules for me were a nuisance. However, this only helped keep my unbeatable reputation going strong.
After a while, I gave the ball a hard slam into the corner or Randi's box, who was currently queen. Usually I wouldn't have employed that move on her since there are only a handful of people in the world who can react in time to it, and she wasn't one of them, so it was a little mean. She had just begun questioning my foursquare playing abilities, though, since I had been going easy on everyone.
"Ugh, that's totally unfair!" she insisted, stomping her foot in agitation over the loss of her queendom only moments after she made it. "You did that on purpose!"
I laughed, "Of course I did. Nobody accidentally does a grand slam."
"Jerk."
"Baby."
"Well I nominate you to go get the ball now," she smirked, grabbing Dalton's arm when he moved to run get it.
I returned her smirk pound for pound and assured her, "I will. Gladly. And you get to move to the back of the line." She pouted, but laughed and hit my arm as I jogged past her to retrieve the ball from where it had bounced clear across the building and rolled to a stop by the couches. I greeted several people I knew along the way, as well as inviting one unfamiliar face to join our game.
I snatched the ball up from its resting place beneath one of the black futons and was in the process of straightening back up when I caught Aaron's eye. They had come after all. He was once again in the middle of that clapping game with all the little junior high girls, but he winked at me and we shared smiles before I nodded to hi and returned to my foursquare game, my insides doing all sorts of strange acrobatics.
Not long after that, Curt bounded on stage and called everyone over to the chairs. Casey intercepted Randi and me on our way over and, throwing his arms around our shoulders, walking between us and, when Aaron, Adrian, Billy, Brian, and Matt joined us, teased, "Ooh, what now? Are you boys jealous? Jealous that I've got all the girls to myself--"
“Yeah . . . lucky you . . . " Billy nodded sarcastically, giving Casey a sympathetic look. I let my jaw drop open and kicked his foot.
Cady came scurrying over, clutching a whole box of donuts, and our good fortune only continued when Casey, Adrian, and Aaron opted to sit with us instead of their usual place of seclusion on the couches. I wound up between Cady and Adrian, but for some strange, unknown, completely not obvious reason, Cady suddenly got the urge to sit by Brian and begged Aaron to switch places with her. I rolled my eyes but didn't complain.
It was Clint's final time to speak to us, so we remained in one big group --instead of breaking into smaller groups as we usually did-- as he accepted the microphone and launched into a lecture on Christian dating and relationships. The irony of it made me snicker --not that Aaron and I were dating or anything, but . . . well, you get my drift. Cady passed me a note that read, "God's watching . . . " that made Aaron and me both laugh quietly. When Clint touched on the topic of sexual purity and abstinence for a couple minutes, I feared awkwardness, but Aaron didn't seem at all disturbed and just listened and nodded, and that in turn made me feel much more comfortable.
Then Laura passed me a note on which she had written a familiar conversation, "'Hello, Aaron? Yeah, this is Makenna. I was just wondering, how do you feel about sex outside of marriage?' 'Sounds like an offer to me!'" I snorted and clamped my hand over my mouth, then quickly leaned forward, shaking with laughter, to crumple up the paper and shove it deep inside my purse, shaking my head when Aaron sent me a questioning look.
It was not one of my better-behaved Sunday mornings, though I really did try to focus on what Clint was saying. The last thing I wanted was for Aaron to think I was some hyperactive little kid that couldn't even stay focused during a lecture, but even the adults in the youth group seemed restless. Aaron and Casey, likewise, passed notes throughout most of the lecture, and he let me lean in to read over his shoulder the nonsense they wrote to each other. There were little stick figures --one of my in Adrian's hat making a gang sign, song lyrics --"You're So Vain," "Under the Boardwalk," and "Unchained Melody," and sketches of food that Aaron assured me were meaningless to me, though he added his own sketches of food.
When I raised my eyebrow at the randomness, Aaron jotted down, "We want to be cool and pass notes too."
I wrote back, "If you aren't already cool, passing notes won't make you that way." He and Casey both drew horrified little faces, but I didn't respond, deciding Clint deserved a little more attention, though I appreciated Adrian snickering as he read the exchange over my shoulder.
When Clint had finished, Curt encouraged us to give him a round of applause, and then said likewise for the band, which got whistles and shouts that made me snicker, "The twelve-year-olds!" Aaron rolled his eyes and shoved me playfully into Adrian.
"All right, it's ten fifteen. Church starts in fifteen minutes, so let's move 'em out!" Curt ordered, clapping his hands to give a sense of urgency. People jumped into action, but more to release a little bit of energy before we had to go sit still for another two hours than to obey Curt.
We made the walk over to church in one big clump of rowdy, loud people that resulted in both Adrian and me getting shoved into a car together.
When Casey rolled his eyes and sighed, "There you go, getting hurt again," I accused, "Yeah, because you pushed me."
"I would never do something like that!" he argued.
"You just did."
"I--"
"Is there a problem back here?" Aaron asked, turning around to see what we were bickering about.
I nodded, "Yes. He pushed me into a car. It was an attempt on my life."
"I did no such thing," Casey insisted. I nodded vigorously.
Aaron drawled, "Well, it looks like what we have here is--"
"Punch him!" Cady suddenly ordered, clapping her hands. "Beat him up, Aaron!"
Aaron didn't hesitate at all to throw a really, really hard punch that I'm sure would have knocked Casey flat if it hadn't been aimed so that Aaron punched the air right beside Casey's head. Casey pretended to take the hit and threw himself backwards, clasping a hand to his jaw and groaning in pain.
All right, fine, I'll be honest. For a moment, I really did think Aaron had punched Casey. From my position on the opposite side of Casey as the punch, it really looked like Aaron had clocked him, but my wide eyes and sharp intake of air made Aaron bust out laughing.
"I didn't really punch him, Makenna!" he laughed, patting me on the shoulder.
Casey glanced up at me from where he had fallen against a car and, seeing from my unamused glare that I had believed it, snorted, "You really thought . . . Please! Aaron would never punch me over a stupid girl."
"I am not stupid," I argued, shoving both of them in opposite directions.
"You thought he really punched me!"
Randi laughed, "Well it was pretty realistic."
"Yes, it was," I quickly agreed. "I'm glad somebody agrees with me."
"Yeah, but . . . never mind," Casey started, then cut himself off and shook his head as we started walking again.
"What?" Aaron urged.
Casey laughed, "I was going to say you'd never really punch me for Makenna, but I don't know man. Girls are evil . . . " Aaron nodded and shrugged as though he was considering this a possibility, then laughed when Casey punched him on the arm.
"We aren't evil, we're manipulative," I argued. "And a good girl only ever uses her powers for good."
"Yes, but are you a good girl or a bad girl?" Casey inquired, pitching his voice to mimic Glenda the Good Witch in the Wizard of Oz when she asked a similar question of Dorothy.
"The jury's still out," Cady retorted before I got a chance to answer for myself. I rolled my eyes and shoved her through the church doors.
Inside the sanctuary, most of the congregation had already settled into pews and started up conversations with those around them, discussing personal affairs or maybe what was going on with the church or country.
"Woah, you have a balcony?" Adrian noted, looking up with awe at the second story of the sanctuary where even more pews were filling up. "Your church is huge."
Randi nodded, "Yep. We're recovering. We had some rough times for a while, but things are getting better and we're filling this place back up again."
"Our preacher is incredible," I added, pointing to where Brother Mike or Dr. Tremaine (whichever way you prefer to refer to him) sat in a chair on the stage, his leg bouncing as he concentrated and anticipated his sermon. Brother Mike had been with our church only a few short months, yet I already felt I knew him better than I had ever known our previous pastor. Perhaps part of that had to do with the fact that, since the oldest two of his three kids were in the youth group, and he believed the youth were a vital part of the church, he spent a lot of time over in the youth building.
We joined the rest of the youth group at the front in the same section of pews that we occupied Sunday after Sunday. Randi, leading the way, slid into the second pew from the very front, and from there we scooted in, one right after another, until the pew was full. There's just nothing quite like sitting in a full pew.
The service began and I was disappointed to learn that, though I stood right beside Aaron, I couldn't pick his voice out. I would have loved to hear him sing, especially since he wasn't mic-ed when the band played, but the congregation's voices all melted together until, instead of hundreds of individual voices, it was one great big voice singing the hymns and praise songs.
After singing for a while, Brother Mike claimed the pulpit and presented his sermon with a passion and devotion that held the interest of those listening. Dalton fidgeted ceaselessly beside me, but I was able to ignore his restlessness and my own sleepiness enough to follow Brother Mike's preaching and make small notes in my Bible about what was being said. I had a habit of doing that, as well as writing comments in about the verses themselves, and it was always a nice little surprise later when I would randomly happen upon the comments while reading.
If there's one thing I'm serious about, it's worship. I'll let loose and goof around with the rest of them during activities, and jump around and yell during worship through music, but when it's time to sit down and listen to a sermon and Bible study, I'm ready to focus on what we're doing. So I didn't partake in Randi and Cady's note passing during church, nor did I doodle cartoons all over my bulletin, or join in the junior high girls' whispering. And to be honest, things like that annoyed me, but not enough to sit away from the youth group during church. I had gotten use to blocking the distractions out, even, but my intent focus on the service meant that, when everything ended, it took me a couple minutes to come back to the real world.
"Are you okay?" Aaron asked when, as everyone else in the congregation stood to leave, I sat back down on the pew.
I looked up and him, then nodded, "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just always a little . . . " I tapped my forehead, "when service ends."
"From concentrating so hard?" he suggested. I smiled that he understood. "You were right; your preacher really is good. He really got me thinking," he commented, sitting back down beside me.
I turned in my seat to face him and inquired, "Anything particular?"
"Just the whole thing about being in the world, but not of the world, and finding people and things to keep yourself focused. I guess for us older kids, it's particularly applicable. I mean, now that I don't live with my family anymore, I see even clearer how much we depend on our friends and school and--"
"The media, peers, acceptance, society," I finished for him, nodding. "It's easy for people our age to get sidetracked."
“Exactly," he grinned. "It's too easy for us to get sidetracked by what's going on around us. It's too easy for us to sink down--"
"Instead of pulling everything else up to our level. And I think most people don't even realize they're until it's too late and they don't think they can do anything to fix the situation. Or, like, they go out with good intentions, but they don't have a good support system to pull them back if they start getting too deep into worldly things."
Aaron's smiled broadened and, pointing alternately to my head and his own, he laughed, "Man, Makenna, we're completely on the same level right there."
I was going to respond about how that probably meant we were both geniuses or both crazy, when Jordan fell onto the pew in front of us and informed me, "Hey, Kenna, I talked to Mom and she said we need to get home. You've got a baby shower today, don't you?"
"Oh yeah, that's right . . . Crap, I forgot about that . . . " I caught sight of Aaron's teasing surprised look and laughed, "Not mine, my aunt's."
"Hey, whatever you say."
I made a face at him, then nodded to Jordan, "Okay, let's go get our stuff, then. Am I taking anyone else home?"
"No, because they all want to go straight home but Mom says we have to stop by Wal-Mart so you can get balloons."
"All right," I sighed, disappointed that I wasn't going to get to go home and crash like I'd hoped. "Let's go."
"I'll walk with you," Aaron quickly offered. "I need to give you your jewelry back anyways."
I gasped, "Oh, wow, I totally forgot you had that! Hm. Usually I feel really weird without a ring on, too."
"Sorry. I put them in my pocket and didn't even think about them until I was doing laundry last night," he apologized.
"It's fine. Just as long as I get them back."
"Yeah, it's all in Casey's car."
Jordan was being awfully quiet around Aaron, and maybe Aaron picked up on this, because he didn't try to push him to talk or anything. I knew Jordan was probably just being protective of me, but I was all right.
When we made it back to the youth center, Jordan retrieved his stuff while Aaron followed me and talked as I dug through the pile of luggage to pull out my pillow, sleeping bag, clothes bag, and gift bag.
"Do you want me to get something?" he offered, picking up my clothes bag before I'd even responded.
"Sure, thanks."
As we shuffled out to my car, I sighed, "I can't believe this weekend is already over. It flew by."
"I know. I mean, it feels like just yesterday, I was helping you after you'd done something to inflict bodily harm on yourself . . . oh wait . . . that was yesterday . . . "
"Ha ha," I retorted, making a face at him. "And I guess not enough time has gone by for your marker tattoos to wear off?"
He mimicked my face and replied, "Oh no, they're definitely still there, including the novel you wrote--"
"Did you read it?" I interrupted.
"Yeah."
"How?"
"Well I didn't use a mirror, thank you very much. Sarah read it to me. You know, my sister Sarah, that girl that--"
"Aw, shut up!" I cut him off, giving him a hard shove.
"Man, I'm going to be laughing about that for ages," he snickered, shaking his head. "You actually thought--"
I held my hand up and argued, "No, no, don't go pinning that on me. I wasn't the one that-- I didn't. Cady and Randi and Laura were the ones ready to rip your throat out."
"Were they really?" I nodded. "Your friends are really protective of you, aren't they?"
"Yeah, they really are."
"Your family is, too."
I glanced over where Jordan was lugging his stuff over to my car and nodded, "Yep, my family is too." It relieved me that Aaron understood just why Jordan was so cold to him, that he was just being protective of me and not just harboring some random resentment.
I unlocked the car and we tossed the things into the back as I assured Jordan, "I'll be right back. I need to get my jewelry back." He just nodded and started flipping through my CDs.
I followed Aaron over to Casey's car and asked, "Do you have your own car?"
"Yeah, but Casey and me car pool a lot." He hollered to Casey for the keys, and I waited patiently as Aaron crawled in and pulled a ziplock baggie out of the glove compartment. "That should be all of it, right?" he asked, handing it to me.
"Two rings, a watch, and a bracelet . . . yep, that's all of it. Thank you."
"No problem."
There followed an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on as both of us searched for what to say. Goodbye? Was this it, then? We'd had our fun for the weekend, but it was over now and we wouldn't be seeing each other again? Should we be pursuing anything? Was there anything to pursue?
I turned and sighed, "Well, I guess I had better get going if I'm going to make it to the shower in time, so . . . I guess . . . good-bye. I--"
"No, wait," he interrupted, reaching out to grab my arm as though suddenly remembering something. "I . . . Can I . . . um . . . have your phone number? I mean, then if you wanted to keep in touch or . . . "
Asking obviously made him so nervous that I felt bad and quickly replied, "Sure thing. Do you have a paper or should I scrawl it on your back?" This made him laugh and relax a little bit, then he motioned for me to wait and ducked back into the car to dig around, resurfacing a moment later with a receipt from Wal-Mart and a pen missing its cap. I jotted my cell number down and handed it back.
"Thanks. I--"
"Hey, Aaron! Makenna! Come over here for a minute!" Casey yelled, interrupting whatever it was Aaron had started to say. It was a welcome interruption, though, and, after Aaron had closed the door, we joined Casey at the entrance of the youth center entrance.
"What's up, Casey?"
He held up a camera and pleaded, "Will you take a picture with me, Miss Makenna? Please?"
"Of course," I smiled, so Aaron took the camera and snapped one of Casey and me, both grinning with our arms around each other's waists.
"Okay, now one of you two," Casey ordered, taking the camera back. It's odd how such a simple request that, made the day before, wouldn't have made us blink now made us smile nervously as we stepped closer together.
I rolled my eyes at my own awkward feelings and quickly wrapped my arm around Aaron's waist, poking him in the side to make him laugh and relax. Casey took the picture, and immediately afterwards, a basketball came flying out the door and bounced off into the parking lot. Aaron and I shared a surprised look, then busted out laughing.
"All right, well I really do need to get going, so goodbye boys," I sighed, sticking my bottom lip out in a pout. It didn't feel like time to say goodbye yet, but I didn't have a choice. The weekend was over and I couldn't do anything about that. "Tell Pete I said goodbye, since he's apparently too cool for our church," I joked, Casey having explained earlier that Pete taught a Sunday school class at his own church. "And-- Adrian! Goodbye to you too," I added as he wandered out of the doors. "Thank you so much for coming this weekend, guys. It really meant a lot to the entire youth group, and it was so much fun, and--"
"Makenna! Come on!" Jordan hollered out the window, pressing on my horn.
"Okay, okay, I'm coming!"
Casey smiled and nodded, "It was fun. Thanks for keeping things interesting."
"Anytime," I laughed. "Goodbye, boys!"
"Bye Miss Makenna."
"Bye."
"Goodbye."
As Jordan slammed down on the horn again, this time holding it down, I scurried over to the car, calling over my shoulder, "Be good! Stay out of trouble!"
"Of course we will," Aaron laughed.
"Finally," Jordan sighed when I finally ducked into the car and turned the key. "I didn't think you'd ever come."
I shrugged, "Just saying goodbye."
"Yeah, I know, but it was taking forever. You're such a girl."
I shrugged, "That I am. So tell me, now that it's all over: did you have fun?" As he jumped off on a long narrative about every little thing he had done all weekend, with whom, and why, I pulled out and watched Adrian, Casey, and Aaron waving through my rearview mirror until they had disappeared around a turn.
"Oh, hey, I love this song!" Jordan suddenly gasped, interrupting himself mid-sentence and reaching over to crank the radio up louder. I smiled at the familiar David Crowder song and laughed and rolled the windows down, letting the wind rush in as Jordan and I sang along.
"Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth. Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth. The flowers in the field are crying to be heard . . . Make a joyful noise."
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Everything copyright Shiloh, 2005-2006.