Christy Miller Collection Vol 4 Part 16

Right after school, Christy began to carry out her plan. She knew where Katie parked her car in the school lot, so Christy decided to wait by Katie's car. When she showed up, Christy would say, "I've been a horrible friend for not being supportive of your relationship with Michael. I've missed your friendship, and I want us to find a way to be close again." That's what she would say.

Christy found Katie's car and waited nearly twenty minutes. There was no sign of Katie anywhere. Dozens of cars zoomed past her, leaving the parking lot looking like an emptied pizza box with the few remaining cars scattered around like leftover chunks of pizza toppings. She was about ready to give up and leave when she heard Michael's slightly beat-up sports car roar into the parking lot.

I'll say, *Hi, Michael,' and I'll smile at him and be nice, Christy told herself. But she barely had a chance to look at him.

The pa.s.senger door of his car opened before Michael had even come to a complete stop. Katie lurched out, slamming the door. Michael popped the car into gear and bolted past them, leaving a puff of exhaust to envelop Christy and Katie's first face-to-face encounter in more than two months.

"Hi," Christy said shyly. "How are you doing?"

Katie stared at Christy, her eyes swollen and red. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I, um...you missed the yearbook picture with the volleyball team."

"You waited here to tell me that?"

"No, actually, I waited here because I wanted to talk to you.

"I don't believe this." Katie shook her head so that her short, straight, copper-colored hair swished like silk ta.s.sels.

"Believe what?" Christy asked, shrinking back. Katie had no problem speaking her mind, and it looked like she was in the mood to let someone have it. Christy didn't want it to be her.

"I can't believe this," Katie said again, groping in her backpack for her car keys. "I don't think I can talk to you right now. This is too weird."

"What's too weird?"

Katie stood still, her green eyes narrowing into slits, scrutinizing Christy's expression. "This is just too much of a G.o.d-thing for me right now. I have to go." Then, jerking her car door open, she climbed in and started up the engine.

Christy didn't know if she should knock on the window and try to get Katie to pay attention to her or if she should run across the parking lot, jump in her own car, and chase Katie. Before Christy had time to decide, Katie jammed her car into drive and squealed out of the school parking lot.

"Too much of a G.o.d-thing'-what's that supposed to mean?" Christy muttered as she picked up her belongings and lugged them across the lot to her lonely-looking car. Do I have bad timing or what? She and Michael obviously had a fight. Maybe after she's had some time to cool down, I'll try talking with her. Why did I wait by her car anyway? I should have called her. It's easier to talk on the phone.

"Christy!" came a familiar voice across the lot. It was Fred, one of the other yearbook photographers. Fred was okay in a let's-just-be-friends kind of way. Still, something about him bugged her.

"I'm glad you're still here," he said. "Did you take the picture of the volleyball team?"

"Yes, and I know it's due tomorrow."

"Why don't you and I drop it off at the one-hour photo place together? I'll treat you to a c.o.ke while we're waiting."

"No, thanks," Christy said, unlocking her door and getting inside.

"Okay, then an ice cream," Fred amiably suggested.

"I really need to get home, Fred. I have a ton of homework. I'll drop it off on my way home and pick it up tomorrow."

"You're planning on staying after school tomorrow to finish the layout, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'll be here."

"I did it!" Fred said, his face full of glee. "I finally got you to say yes to something I asked. We're on a roll, Christy. It can only get better from here. So do you want to go to the prom with me?"

"No!" Christy said. This was only the fifteenth time he had asked her.

Fred looked undaunted. "Not a problem. You still have six weeks to change your mind."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Fred."

"I'll be looking forward to it," he responded cheerfully. He waved and smiled so that his crooked front tooth stuck out. Jogging to his car parked on the other side of the lot, he drove off on his merry way.

Christy stuck her key in the ignition to start her car. Nothing happened. She jiggled the key and tried again. Nothing.

I don't believe this! What else could go wrong? Christy thought, climbing out of the car and slamming the door. With deliberate steps she marched back to the school building to call her dad.

About fifteen minutes later, he pulled up in his white truck. He still had on his overalls from the Hollandale Dairy. He was a large man with reddish hair and bushy red eyebrows. It was embarra.s.sing to have to call her dad to come start her car. She was glad no one was around to see the rescue.

"Did you leave your lights on?" Dad asked when he hopped out of the truck with jumper cables in hand.

"I don't think so."

"Go ahead and pop the hood. We'll try giving the battery some juice."

Christy's dad connected the two car batteries, letting his truck run for a few minutes before saying, "Get in and start her up."

Christy turned the key, and the engine immediately turned over. She smiled her relieved thanks to her dad. Embarra.s.sing or not, it was nice to have a dad who came to the rescue.

"I'll follow you home." Dad disconnected the cables and slammed down her hood.

They reached home with no problems. Christy thanked her dad and then went straight to her room and flopped on her bed. At nearly the same instant, the phone rang.

"Christy!" Mom called from down the hallway. "Telephone."

Christy forced her long legs down the hallway and picked up the phone. She heard Todd's familiar "Hey, how's it going?"

"Don't ask," she said.

"Bad day?"

"It didn't start out that way, but the last hour or so has been pretty frustrating." Christy ran through the details, deleting the part about Fred asking her to the prom. "The worst part is, I feel like I don't know how to make things right with Katie. Everything I try blows up in my face. I guess I should call her or go over to her house. I hate things being unsettled like this."

"Good idea. Let me know how it goes."

"That's all the advice you have for me? Aren't you going to tell me what to say?"

"No."

"Todd, it's not going to be that easy."

"Sure, it will."

"She'll probably yell at me."

"So she yells at you. At least it'll get you two communicating."

"But then what do I say? Do I go over the stuff I've told her before about how she shouldn't be dating Michael because he's not a Christian? She won't listen to me. I've tried before to get closer to her and help her see that what she's doing is wrong, but she only pushes me away."

"Then let go," Todd said.

"Let go?"

"Listen, Christy," Todd began. His direct yet gentle tone made her relax a little. "I think sometimes the test of true love for a friend is found not in holding on to that person tighter but in letting them go. Sometimes when we step back and let go, it gives G.o.d room to do what He's been trying to do all along. It's like He's been waiting for us to get out of the way."

"So you think I've been in G.o.d's way?" Christy felt a little defensive.

Todd paused. "I think you need to let go. Then you'll know for sure that you're not in the way."

Christy let out a sigh. "Okay, I'll call her and tell her... I don't know what I'll tell her. But I'll call her. Pray for me. okay?"

"I always do," Todd said. Then with his familiar "Later," he hung up.

Christy closed her eyes and pictured Todd, her tall, broad-shouldered boyfriend. She could see his screaming silver-blue eyes crinkle at the corners and his chin automatically tilt up like it always did whenever he said "Later." She knew she was lucky to have him. Perhaps blessed was a better word.

Christy quickly dialed Katie's number before she had time to think about it. Katie answered on the second ring.

"Hi, it's me. Do you have a minute?"

Dead air filled the s.p.a.ce between them.

"Why?" Katie finally said.

Christy wished she had taken the time to plan her words before calling. She spouted off the first thing that came to her mind. "Katie, I want you to know that I'm not going to try to tell you what to do anymore. I know I've been critical of Michael, and I'm sorry. Will you forgive me. Katie?"

Christy hadn't expected to cry, but she did. The tears dripped off her cheeks. She stared at the water droplets on her jeans and waited for Katie to respond.

"I can't talk to you right now," Katie said solemnly.

Christy wanted to argue and somehow convince Katie that they needed to talk now. That's what would make Christy feel better. Apparently, that wasn't what Katie needed. Did letting go mean not pushing Katie to talk things through?

"Okay," Christy said. "That's fine. Could we maybe talk another time?"

"I promise we'll talk later. I'm just not ready yet."

"All right."

"Okay." Katie sounded like she was crying too. Then right before she hung up, she said, "Thanks, Chris."

Christy sat with her back against the hallway wall for a long while after hanging up the phone. This was all so complicated. Everyone had told her that her senior year would be her best year of high school. And true, there had been lots of wonderful things, like being with Todd, working on the school yearbook, and having her job at the pet store.

Yet this unresolved conflict over Michael had taken a chomp out of Christy's heart. She had lost her best friend to a dark-haired exchange student from Ireland who for the last six months had occupied Katie's every spare moment. Christy brushed her hair back and wiped her blue-green eyes with the palm of her hand. She felt like she had lost her best friend. And maybe she had.

The next morning Christy spotted Michael at his locker. Sucking in a deep breath, she approached him with a smile. If she couldn't make peace directly with Katie, maybe somehow she could open up the communication lines through Michael.

"Hi, Michael," she said.

"Morning," Michael returned. His Irish accent made him sound naturally cheerful, but his face told Christy the opposite. He looked like he had just gotten up, with his dark hair twisted in uncombed curls at the nape of his neck. He was wearing his favorite baggy shorts, leather sandals, and his overly familiar "Save the Whales" T-shirt.

"Have you seen Katie yet today?"

"No." His answer was curt.

Christy hesitated. "I don't know if it's even my place to ask, but are you guys okay?"

"What did Katie tell you?"

"Nothing. That's the thing. I haven't talked to her, and I know she was upset yesterday after school. I just wanted to see if everything was okay."

"Look," Michael said, c.o.c.king his head and sounding mellow but looking stern, "you haven't the right."

"The right?" Christy ventured.

"Let's be straight. I know you haven't been favorable toward me since Katie and I started to date. Now that Katie somehow believes your prayers have worked against her, you haven't the right to step in like a vulture, waiting to pick at my bones."

Christy was shocked. "What?" she stammered, but it was too late. Michael had already turned and was maneuvering his way through the congestion in the hallways.

I haven't the right? What do you mean I haven't the right? I'm Katie's best friend!

The bell rang loudly right above Christy's head. She felt like yelling back at it.

Why would Michael say such a thing to me? Why would he say I'm like a vulture? And what does he mean my prayers have worked against her? What's going on here?

Hurrying to her locker, she threw her books inside and wished somehow she could curl up inside too. She wished it even more when she heard someone call out, "Miss Chris!" She knew it had to be Fred.

"Hey, what's with Katie? She was all over my case this morning because she heard we took the volleyball team photo without her."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her you took it. Wasn't my fault she didn't manage to show up."

"Oh, that's just great. Thanks a lot, Fred. Now she'll never speak to me again!" Christy slammed her locker door and marched down the hall to her first cla.s.s.

"Sure, she will." Fred briskly trotted beside her. "I told her if she wanted to reschedule another photo to talk to you, and you would contact the rest of the team."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Christy blurted out. "The pictures are due today." Christy suddenly remembered the roll of film was still in her purse.

"Oh, didn't you hear? We have two extra weeks. Miss Wallace found out we're four pages short, so she asked if you and I would work on photo collages. I told her we would work together day and night until we got it just right."

"Why did you tell her that, Fred?"

Fred looked like he was venturing a wild guess. "Because I'm such a cool guy, and you're dying to spend quality time with me?"