Losing Faith (31 page)

I’m scared to ask, but I do it anyway. “And can you, um, look at yourself in the mirror?”

She opens the flap of the binder sitting on top of her pile. There’s a mirror glued to the inside. We both look down.

“Yup.”

She half-smiles, then shuts the book. “Heard from Alis?”

Her voice is so controlled, so even. I have to see her face. Other than the hair and clothes, the same old Tessa stares back at me. I shake my head. “No, I’m sure he’s in a foster home somewhere. Probably in a different state.”

“Obviously his life is getting rearranged,” she says, “but no point in jumping to conclusions.”

“I don’t think I’m exactly jumping. He hasn’t called.”

“We better get to class,” she says, changing the subject yet again.

I close my locker to follow Miss Responsible’s lead, when I hear a familiar “Hey” from across the hall.

I turn slowly.
Celeste.

Tessa hangs back, even though I know she’s in a hurry to get to the science wing. Like she’s protecting me.

“Hey,” I say.

Celeste walks over and I can already tell that she’s sorry, she doesn’t have to say it, but she does anyway. The important thing, though, is that it’s obvious she’s not hiding anything anymore. She’s free of her secrets.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I understand, or at least I think I get most of it.” I smile. “Except where you disappeared to Monday night.”

“I couldn’t find your phone, so I ran as hard as I could down the mountain. Well, as hard as I could without being able to see two feet in front of me,” she says. “Nathan caught up to me, but he was concerned only with saving himself.”

“I can’t believe he was actually Faith’s boyfriend,” I say. “I could never have seen her with someone like him.”

She rolls her eyes. “He was everyone’s boyfriend. Or at least he said he was. Reena’s the only one who believed it.”

I feel somewhat relieved. Maybe I knew my sister better than I thought.

She goes on with her Monday night play-by-play. “I finally
found the police at the base of the mountain. They already had Nathan and drove us back to the police station in a squad car. I don’t know what Nathan told them, but I told the truth. About everything,” she adds.

“Me too,” I say. “So they must have enough information to do something about Nathan. And Reena.” I can never have Faith back, but at least we may have saved anyone else from getting involved in their deadly cult.

“After
my
statement, they better,” Tessa says, as if she was the one in their clutches.

There’s one more thing I’m not totally convinced about, and I have to know. “Do you think … Could Faith have been hypnotized?”

Celeste shakes her head, without a hint of hesitation. “Faith’s the one who told me you have to want to be hypnotized for it to work. Even though I believed that, I wasn’t sure I was strong-minded enough. I mean, I’ve never been strong like her. I never seemed able to resist Reena’s pressure.”

“That’s why you took your contacts out?” And that’s why it hadn’t worked on me. Maybe I do have some of Faith’s strength.

Celeste nods. “Faith didn’t agree with the hypnosis part of things. She insisted on knowing exactly what she was speaking about. That’s why I left that night. I didn’t know what to
do when Reena wanted to hypnotize us and Faith was saying no way. I thought by leaving I’d be eliminating at least some of the conflict, but even as I was going Faith started talking to Reena about the orange level and their arguments got worse. Faith knew there was something off about the Higher Scriptures and wanted to set Reena straight.”

“Now, that sounds like your sister,” Tessa says, surprising me. Even though she’d never actually talked to Faith—I’m her only real connection—she seems to know her so well. Which probably means I do too.

“Faith really wanted me to back her up,” Celeste goes on. “I thought I wasn’t strong enough. I just wanted to go to a normal youth group again and forget about them, but Faith couldn’t let it go.” Celeste looks so sad when she says it that I know if she could have the moment back she would have stayed with Faith. Even if it had meant the end of her, too.

The way Celeste shifts, there must be something else, so I wait, even though Tessa’s tapping her locker, apparently ready to go.

“I was wondering,” Celeste starts, but then stops and rethinks her words. “I’m thinking about going back to Pastor Scott’s youth group. I need to be hooked in somewhere, or all this is just going to eat me up.”

Is she looking for my approval? Trying to find out if I think all religion is bad and scary and something everybody should run away from kicking and screaming? “I think that’s a good idea, Celeste. Pastor Scott seems like an okay guy.”

She stares down the hall, but still doesn’t leave. Most of the students have made their way into classrooms.
Late pass, here I come.

“I just feel weird going without Faith, and I thought maybe you, I mean both of you”—she glances at Tessa—“might want to come.”

I’m trying to come up with a gentle decline, when Tessa blurts out, “Sure. When is it?”

They discuss the details, while I wonder what happened to Tessa.

After Celeste leaves, Tessa says, “Come on, we’re gonna be late,” and drags me along behind her. She leaves me outside my English classroom, with absolutely no explanation of what she’s thinking.

Maybe she hasn’t changed so much after all.

By Friday evening, Tessa still hasn’t explained her motives for volunteering our attendance at youth group when Celeste swings by to pick me up. Tessa’s already in the car, wearing her black clothes mixed in with the few clothing items of
mine she has permanently borrowed. She looks brighter just because of the makeup and hair.

When I get into the backseat behind them, they’re already in mid-conversation.

“If you listen to the
scientists
,” Tessa says, emphasizing the word, “there are plenty of other explanations.”

“Like what? Some big bolt of lightning? Or, wait, better yet, an alien.” I can’t believe how bold Celeste sounds. And here I’d thought it was an act up on the mountain. “Even so, where did the lightning or alien originate?”

Tessa isn’t about to let Celeste get the last word in, and moves on to the subject of why babies die.

I zone out on their debate. My strongest suspicions were that Tessa was coming to youth group either for me, because she thought I needed it, or for Celeste, because she thought Celeste needed us. It hadn’t occurred to me that maybe she’s coming for herself.

“That’s bullshit,” Tessa says, not quite your average Christian on her way to church. “God might be powerful, but he’s not
that
powerful. And he’s not always good.”

Celeste gets stronger and more confident with each sentence. “Who says He’s not?”

“Believe me, I know.”

They haven’t asked me what I think and I’m glad. Who
knows what I think? One thing I’m starting to believe though, is that maybe it’s not such a bad idea to talk about stuff.

Celeste leads the way into the church basement. She’s obviously been here before. Many of the teens stare at us—the new kids—when we walk in. Tessa doesn’t seem to notice. She sizes up Pastor Scott from across the room.

We take some seats at the back when two guys at the front start playing guitar. Words appear on an overhead projector, and soon the whole room stands and sings, kind of like at church, but with lots of extra clapping.

Celeste falls into line and sways along with the music. I look at Tessa and she’s not singing, not clapping her hands, but staring intently at the words on the screen.

I hover in the middle of the two of them, trying to decide where my place is in this. Who I’m going to follow.

But I’m not going to follow either of them.

Eventually, I close my eyes. Listen to the words but don’t attempt to sing any of them. Don’t attempt to analyze them. I listen hard to hear if Faith’s voice is among the rest. But if it is, I can’t hear it. I take a deep breath and relax, just relax, for the first time maybe ever.

After the music, everyone sits and Pastor Scott introduces his new assistant. I’m glad he’s got some help, and he looks way less stressed. The new guy gives a short talk, with Tessa
shaking her head through the whole thing, and then dismisses us for games time.

We head into the next room and as I pass by Pastor Scott, he gives me a wave.

“Hi,” I say.

He smiles. “Hey, Brie. How are you?”

Something about his tone makes me realize he’s not just asking out of obligation.

“Pretty good, actually,” I say.

“It looks like you’re doing better,” he says. “I’m glad.”

I wave as I scurry into the room where they’re just finishing up explaining the first game.

“It’s okay,” Tessa says, pulling my arm toward a small group of teens. “You’re on my team.”

chapter
THIRTY-SIX

Plan Z: Get to all my classes on time and
somehow pass the rest of this semester.

Monday morning, I pull out my cell phone, glad to finally have it back from the cops. I plan to dial it to silent before classes, but it’s already on silent, and reads that I have three missed calls. I scroll through, and they’re all from … Pastor Scott?

When I turn to talk to Tessa at her locker, my mouth drops open. Alis stands ten feet behind her, a lopsided smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says, but I’m already barreling toward him. When I wrap my arms around his back, he reciprocates and whispers, “I’m the new kid,” in my ear.

I laugh a little, but don’t let go. He feels so good, so warm.

After a few seconds, I pull back and grab him by the shoulders. “Wait. Where are you living now? Why are you here? You’re not here to say good-bye, right?”

He grins. “Pastor Scott and his wife took me in through the foster care program. I’m living with them, at least for now.”

That explains the missed calls. “And you get to go to school with me?” I’m so excited, I bounce up off my heels.

“Scott suggested the nearest Christian school first. Then when you came to youth group the other night, and after he heard about all the stuff with Faith and Reena, I guess he decided this place might be a better choice. I think he figured we could both use a friend in all this.”

“Really?”

He nods.

“And Reena?” I ask softly.

“She’s in a psychiatric center,” he says. “It’s where she needs to be for a while. My Dad’s pretty broken up about it all, but I know he’s still not ready to be there for either of us.” He looks at the floor and I snuggle back in to hug him.

Tessa clears her throat behind us. I ignore her; she can say hi to Alis later. But she continues making sounds like she’s choking on peanut butter. Then she coughs out the word “PDA.”

It takes me a second, between Tessa’s peanut butter throat and Alis whispering how much he missed me, to understand what she’s trying to tell me:
Teacher alert. Public Display of Affection.

I pull away from Alis only seconds before Mr. Clancy gets to us.

“Miss Jenkins.” He crosses his arms and taps his foot. “I should think you’d be spending more time getting caught up on schoolwork and a little less time snuggling in the hallways.”

He suggests sending me to see Principal Voth, but then decides that a longer detention would probably be of greater benefit. “Bring your history book,” he adds.

Before he turns to leave, Alis says, “Excuse me, sir. It was my fault too.”

Clancy looks confused and I’m not sure if it’s by the fact that a student’s never said such a thing to him, or if it’s because Alis is somehow outside of his clairvoyant radar.

“Ahem. Yes. You come for detention too,” he says. “Make sure to bring some homework.”

When Clancy leaves, Alis and I smile at each other.

“Do you think he recognized me, or wonders why I’m in school at 8:30 a.m.?” Alis asks.

“You know, sometimes I think he knows everything.” I
watch the back of Clancy’s trek down the hall. “Sometimes I think he knows nothing at all.”

Tessa slaps me on the back. “See you in five.” She raises her eyebrows. “Or maybe ten.”

She’s doing well at attending her classes and getting to them all on time. Even Art, which is first thing today.

Alis stares down at his class schedule. “I can’t figure this thing out,” he says. “I guess we were supposed to start biology two years ago, but Reena’s not much into sciences. But then I’m way ahead in math, so I chose some extra electives.” He shakes his head, looking over the paper. “And where the heck are all these classrooms?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” I peer over the edge of the paper and scroll my hand along the line that says Block D, since that’s first thing today. “Huh. Art 11. What do you know.”

“What?” He must see the smile on my face.

The hallway clears, so I snap my locker shut and grab his hand. We’re halfway down the hall, me pulling him along at a hundred miles an hour, before he asks, “What’s the hurry?”

“Boy, you have a lot to learn.” I interlock my fingers in his. “Time for a new slate. This is called Plan A.” Saying it out loud makes me think about how some things
do
work out the
way you want them to. And sometimes even better. “Plan A, with benefits.”

He laughs, and we run down the hall together, rounding the corner into Mr. Poindexter’s room just as the second bell sounds.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Many writers say they couldn’t do it alone, but WOW, I really could not. There are so many people who have helped me, mentored me, encouraged me, even kicked me in the butt, and this book wouldn’t have been possible without them.

First, thank you to my best friend, Shelly. I’ll always remember that you read the first (i.e., really bad) stuff, and kept loving me anyway. (How many times did you read Trev, again?) Without your support, I would never have found the confidence to get here. And to go along with that, thank you to my awesome home group (nothing like Reena’s home group, I swear!) for giving up so many nights to talk about my writing struggles.