The Jerk Magnet

Thanks to Janelle’s detail-oriented planning, everything went smoothly on Friday afternoon, and by six o’clock they were settled into their room at the coastal camp retreat.

“You look so hot,” Chelsea told Janelle as she watched her friend touching up her makeup. “No one will know who you are.”

Janelle frowned. “Meaning I was so not hot before?”

Chelsea chuckled. “Well, you gotta admit you didn’t look like this.”

Janelle smoothed her sleek blonde tresses. “I was actually considering changing my real hair color. What do you think?”

Chelsea grimaced. “I, uh, I don’t know. I mean, your natural hair color is nice.”

Janelle pouted. “But you changed yours.”

“That’s true, but my original hair color was really mousy.” She pointed to her wig. “Even worse than this.”

“Worse than that?” Janelle looked surprised. “Wow, I can see why you changed it.” She smiled. “Don’t you love how geeky those glasses make you look?”

“I thought they made me look smarter.”

“In a geeky sort of way. I’m glad we didn’t go with the more stylish frames. You might’ve actually looked good.” She reached for a tube of beige waterproof makeup. “Try this to tone down your lips some more.” She frowned. “You really have a nice mouth, Chelsea. It’s hard to make it look bad.”

“Thanks. But the name is Trina, remember.”

“Oh, yeah. In fact, that gives me an idea, Trina.”

“What’s that?” Chelsea smudged her lips, making them look pathetically pale, about the same color as her pasty face, and almost sickly.

“Let’s try to stay in character even when we’re alone, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Ready to rock and roll?” Janelle/Brittany was strutting across the room like a rock star, and looking so hot that Chelsea/Trina felt more than a little jealous.

“I . . . uh . . . I guess so.” Already Chelsea/Trina felt so insecure that she wondered if she had actually unraveled all the self-confidence she’d worked so hard to create for herself over the summer.

As they walked to the dining hall, Chelsea knew they made an unlikely pair, but probably not that much different than they were in their previous personas—just reversed. Except the height difference between them was decreased thanks to Chelsea’s flat shoes and flat hair, which made her seem shorter than usual, and Janelle’s high heels and fluffy hair, which added to her height.

Already a lot of teens were milling about the dining hall, small clusters and cliques from various youth groups, casting furtive glances at whoever walked in. As planned, Janelle took the lead, cheerfully introducing herself to a couple of guys standing by the door. She told them she was a newcomer to the area, saying how her dad’s job was transferred from Mobile and they’d only been to church a couple of times.

“So I don’t know a living soul here, and I feel like a fish outta water.” She introduced her friend Trina. “I had to twist poor Trina’s arm half off to get her to come to this camp with me,” Janelle drawled, “so I do hope y’all will make her feel warm and welcome too.” When questioned about school, she told them that she and Trina attended a private school, using a phony name so no one could question it. Chelsea just nodded shyly, ducking her head from time to time and acting as awkward as she felt. It actually felt frighteningly natural. Spying Chase coming through the doorway, she gently elbowed Janelle.

“So tell me, does everyone already know everyone here?” She smiled prettily. “I mean, are y’all friends?”

“We know some of the kids here,” a guy named Kenneth told her. “But not everyone. We come from several different schools.” Already Kenneth seemed hooked by Janelle’s Southern charm. “But by Sunday we’ll know a lot more people. It’s pretty cool how that works.”

“How about those boys over there?” Janelle nodded to Chase and Nicholas. “Do they go to your school too?”

“No,” Kenneth told them. “But I know Nicholas from summer camp. He’s a really great guy. Hey, Nick!” He waved Nicholas over and introduced him to Brittany Woodard. Then he peered at Chelsea. “I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

“It’s okay,” Chelsea mumbled. “Everyone does.”

“Her name is Trina Johnson,” Janelle announced, “and she’s just about the sweetest friend a girl could have.” She stuck her lower lip out in a pout as she linked her arm in Chelsea’s. “In fact, she’s the only friend I have. I just don’t understand the girls up here—they can be so mean.”

“Where are you from?” Chase asked Janelle.

“Mobile, Alabama,” she told him. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name.”

Chase was introduced, and taking advantage of “Brittany’s” attention directed toward him, he peppered her with questions. Without missing a beat, she answered him with even more Southern wit and charm. Janelle really had it going on, and Chelsea could almost imagine those boys eating out of her hand. She was truly the belle of the ball.

Meanwhile, Chelsea/Trina wanted to blend into the woodwork as she folded her arms tightly across her front and stepped away from the throng of kids, mostly guys, who were flocking around Janelle. She wished she could make an adjustment to the straitjacket bra that Janelle had insisted she wear. More than that, she wished this weekend was over. Tugging on the cuff of her frumpy beige sweater, she wondered why she’d ever agreed to this crazy experiment. It wasn’t as if she needed to be reminded of what her former life was like.

Nicholas came over to stand with her. “So, Trina, have you ever been to a church camp before?”

Surprised at his attention, Chelsea looked directly at him, then down again as she shook her head. “No. This is all new to me.” That was true.

“And you go to private school with Brittany?”

“That’s right.” She looked back up at him, wondering if he suspected something, but his expression seemed genuine.

“Well, I hope you’ll feel welcome here.”

“Everyone seems very nice,” she told him.

“It’s a good group of kids. We’re not perfect by any means. But most of us are trying to live our lives for God, or at least we’re here to find out more about him.”

“Is that what this camp is for?” she asked. “To find out more about God?”

“Yes. Didn’t you know that?”

“Not really. But that sounds good to me.”

He looked surprised. “So you want to find out more about God?”

“I do.” She nodded. “I really do.”

He asked if she wanted to talk to him about her experience with God, and for a moment Chelsea forgot she was playing a role. She admitted that she really did want to talk about it. “I recently made a commitment,” she said. “No one besides . . . Brittany knows about it.” She glanced over to where Janelle/Brittany was still entertaining a small crowd, almost like she was on stage.

“I’d be happy to—” He was cut off by an air horn.

“Okay, campers, it looks like dinner is ready to be served,” a guy from up front announced. “Let’s start finding our seats and get on with it.”

“Come on,” Nicholas told her. “You can sit with me.”

Chelsea blinked. “Uh, okay.” She looked over to where Chase seemed to be leading Janelle/Brittany toward them. Just like that they were seated together, along with Olivia and a couple of others from their church’s youth group. The banter was familiar, but instead of attempting to get involved like she normally would, Chelsea just stared down at her white paper placemat and wished she could disappear into thin air. As badly as she’d wanted to get to know Nicholas—before, anyway—she had no desire to do it like this. It was a terrible plan, and she knew she would regret it even more as the weekend progressed. Perhaps she’d spend the weekend in her room. After all, wasn’t she supposed to be sickly?

The blessing was said, and food servers came out and began to set dishes of food in front of them. Chelsea’s stomach was tied in knots, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat. She remembered how Kate used to coach her in an effort to calm her nerves—slow and easy. She picked up her fork and slipped it into the spaghetti, turning it around and around and around as the kids at her table continued to talk and laugh and tease and joke. She couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt more out of place, more like an oddity, more like a loser, than right now.

As she attempted to eat, Nicholas worked hard to make small talk with her. She tried to sound responsive and interested, but it was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Not only did she feel like a misfit, she felt like a phony.

“Where are Chelsea and Janelle?” asked Sam, one of the youth group guys. He went to another school and obviously hadn’t heard. “Aren’t those two coming?”

“They’re off in San Francisco,” Lishia told him.

“Too bad.” Sam shook his head. “I was hoping to spend some time with Chelsea.”

Chase playfully slugged Sam in the arm. “She probably wasn’t hoping to spend time with you.”

“Why not?” Sam retorted. “She seems like a pretty nice girl to me.”

“Don’t you mean she seems like a pretty hot girl?” Chase challenged.

“I heard she broke up with Dayton last week,” someone said.

“Yeah, we saw the whole thing,” Olivia told them. She gave her eyewitness report, which was mostly inaccurate. Not that Chelsea planned to straighten them out. It was all she could do to keep from looking at Janelle, which she knew wouldn’t be smart right now.

“Well, if Chelsea is really a Christian,” Lishia said, “I don’t see why she was going with someone like Dayton Moore in the first place. A Christian girl wouldn’t do that.”

“Who said she’s a Christian?” Nicholas said. “Maybe you’re wrong to judge her by Christian standards.”

“Who is this Chelsea person anyway?” Janelle asked Chase, “and why is she such a hot topic?”

“Chelsea’s part of our youth group,” Chase explained. “And she’s a hot topic because she’s a hot girl.” He grinned at Janelle. “But not as hot as you.”

Janelle actually batted her eyelashes—rather, her fake eyelashes. “Thank you, Chase. You’re so sweet I’ll bet sugar won’t even melt in your mouth.”

He didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. But unfortunately, the topic remained on Chelsea. While it was slightly amusing to think that she was so interesting to them, it was also irksome and hurtful to hear their candid opinions of her. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she stood, “but I didn’t know Christians liked to gossip so much. Please excuse me.” She walked out of the dining room and back to her room, where she was determined to stay until Sunday.

It wasn’t long until her cell phone rang. “Trina?” Janelle’s voice rang out. “Are you all right, darling?”

“I’m fine,” Chelsea told her. “I just needed a break from the catty Christians.”

“I understand completely,” Janelle drawled. “I’m only calling to tell you that there will be a group meeting at eight—”

“Thanks but no thanks.”

“All right then, darling. I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun.” And Chelsea meant it. At least one of them should be having fun with this experiment. Perhaps by tomorrow, Chelsea would feel like having fun too. She was about to turn off her cell phone when she noticed that Dad had called, and she decided to call him back. Kate answered, and Chelsea asked how they were doing.

“Maui is beautiful and wonderful,” Kate told her, “but I think both your dad and I are ready to come home.”

“Well, you only have a couple more days,” Chelsea reminded her. “I wish I were there.” She filled Kate in on how their little experiment was going, although she tried to keep it upbeat.

Kate laughed. “I think that sounds like fun.”

Chelsea sighed. “I’ll admit it’s an eye-opener. And Janelle is sure enjoying herself.” She thanked Kate for helping Janelle with her makeover. “She actually looks pretty hot, even without the blonde wig.” Suddenly Chelsea heard someone knocking at the door. “I’ll bet that’s her now,” she said. “She probably forgot her key.” They said goodbye, and Chelsea went to open the door. Seeing it wasn’t Janelle but Nicholas, she opened the door to about a two-inch crack. Trying to act embarrassed that he’d come to their room, she was actually trying to cover up the curious-looking clutter in their dressing room.

“Sorry to bother you,” Nicholas said. “But I was hoping we could talk.”

“Oh . . . I don’t know.”

“Want to come out and get a soda or something?”

Despite herself, she felt caught up again. On so many levels, Nicholas seemed like a great guy. “Okay. Give me a minute.” Thankful she hadn’t ripped off the wig like she’d meant to do, she closed the door and ran over to check herself in the mirror. She touched up her lips, smoothed her boring brown bob, and put her glasses back on, then took in a deep, steadying breath. Maybe she could do this.





First of all, I want to apologize,” Nicholas told Chelsea as they walked down a stone path. “Like I said earlier, just because we’re Christians doesn’t mean we’re perfect. Far from it. The main difference between Christians and everyone else is that Christians know that God has forgiven them for their blunders. Unfortunately, like you witnessed tonight, we still blunder.”

“Oh.”

He talked a bit more about how he and other Christians were works in progress. “Anytime a Christian thinks he’s arrived, he better watch out. I know from experience that we can fall on our faces just like that.” He stopped in front of the camp café, asked her what she wanted, then went inside to order them sodas. She nervously waited outside at a little table, wondering what to do.

“Here you go,” he said as he set the paper cups on the table and sat down. “I’m really sorry, Trina,” he said again, “that your first camp experience started out on such a sour note.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay . . . but it does make me wonder.”

“About what?”

“That girl everyone was talking about.” Chelsea looked down at her drink. “I’m curious why they were so down on her. Did she do something to offend them or something?”

He laughed. “No, I don’t think so. Between you and me, I think the problem with Chelsea is that she’s too pretty for her own good.”

“What?” Chelsea peered through her glasses at him. “How is that possible?”

“I’m sure it sounds bizarre, but I think it’s true.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Girls like that . . . well, it seems like they might care more about the outside than the inside.”

“So you know this girl fairly well?” Chelsea was feeling bolder now. “You’ve spent a lot of time with her?”

“Not really. But I know about those kinds of girls.”

“You mean the ones who are too pretty?”

He nodded.

“Would you put my friend Brittany in that category?”

He looked caught off guard. “I didn’t mean to suggest that. She seems very sweet.”

“But too pretty?”

“Maybe . . . I’ve warned Chase to steer clear of girls like that. Not that it does much good. Seriously, he seems determined to, well, you know, get a hot girlfriend.”

“And you’d never do that yourself? I mean, get a hot girlfriend?”

“No way.” He looked intently at her. “That’s like asking for trouble.”

“Why is that, exactly?”

He smiled at her. “It’s just that girls like that—the ones who are so focused on their hair and their clothes and all that other outward stuff—tend to be shallow.”

“Have you known quite a few girls like that?”

“To be honest, only a few. But I picked up on the pattern after about the third one. Then I recommitted my heart to God and realized that I need to avoid girls like that. It might sound extreme, but they’re like poison to me.”

“So is that how you treat that girl—what was her name?”

“Chelsea? Yeah, I guess I do.” He frowned. “That probably sounds all wrong though.”

“It seems a little cruel. What if Chelsea wasn’t the person you assumed she was? What if all this time you were treating her like poison, and she turned out to be just another ordinary girl, except that she had a pretty veneer, and you never even gave her a chance?”

“When you put it that way, it does seem a little harsh.”

She pointed at him. “What if people, particularly girls, treated you like that?”

“What?”

“You know, like if they held you at arm’s length because you were too good-looking. How would that make you feel?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Would you feel unfairly judged?”

He seemed to be considering this.

“What if I stood up right now and said, ‘Nicholas, you are just too handsome for me to be talking to you. So why don’t you go take a hike?’ ”

He gave an uncomfortable smile. “I guess I might feel a little hurt by that.”

“Is that the way Christians are supposed to treat each other? Make judgments like that? Keep each other at a distance?”

He frowned. “You’re making some good points, Trina.”

“Well, being a Christian is still new to me. I’d like to figure some of these things out. To be honest, some of the things I’m experiencing feel a little confusing.”

“Probably because, like I said, Christians aren’t perfect.”

“But some of them act like they are. Or maybe it’s just that some of them act like they’re superior to others.” She studied him.

“That’s a fair observation.” He pressed his lips together. “I’m sure I act like that sometimes.”

“Why?” she demanded.

He looked thoughtful. “That’s a really good question, Trina. I think it’s kind of a balancing act. You know . . . like, as a Christian, I realize I belong to God. I’ve been adopted into his family. That makes me feel special. And maybe I lose sight of the fact that I’m a sinner just like everyone else. Maybe I get a little smug.”

She just nodded.

“I really like talking to you,” he said suddenly. “You’re making me think about some things in a new way. And it’s good.” He glanced at his watch as he stood. “But it’s about time for the meeting now. Are you going to come?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Earlier I’d decided to spend the weekend in my room.”

“Please don’t do that.” He reached for her hand. “Come on, Trina. Come to the meeting. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Okay.” She stood. He was still holding her hand.

“We better hurry.”

To her surprise, he continued to hold her hand, swinging it as they walked. Her emotions were a wild mixture of guilt and pleasure, anxiety and hope.

“I talked Trina into coming back,” he announced to Chase and some of the others. “I hope we can all try harder to make her welcome here.” He smiled at Janelle. “And you too, Brittany.”

Nicholas sat down next to Chelsea, and she continued to feel a bunch of contrasting emotions. Part of her said to just go with it. Another part of her felt more like a hypocrite than ever. But she didn’t have long to think about these things because the band started to play, and the next thing she knew, they were all standing, singing, and clapping.