The Jerk Magnet

Chelsea knew that, despite appearances, Janelle was into fashion. As ironic as it seemed, thanks to Kate, Chelsea suspected she was just a couple steps ahead of Janelle when it came to style. On her way back outside, she grabbed some of the glossy fat fashion magazines, ones she’d gathered on the trip out here. Chelsea’s plan was to maintain the pretense that she knew something about clothes and shoes and things in the hopes of solidifying their friendship.

“Here you go.” She handed Janelle a glass of soda, then dumped the pile of magazines on the table between the chaise lounges. “You might want to check out what’s hot for this fall,” she said casually. She stretched out on her own lounge and took a nice cool sip.

“Yoo-hoo!” A strange call seemed to come out of the blue. It was followed by a low whistle.

Chelsea looked up and around the yard. “What was that?”

“I’d say it was Grayson, except it’s coming from over there.” Janelle pointed to where the row of trees grew along the back stucco wall. She lowered her voice. “And that’s where Hollywood lives.”

“Huh?” Chelsea studied Janelle. “Who is—”

“Dayton Moore,” Janelle whispered as she peered across the pool to the back wall. “But I doubt that it’s really him. He’s such a—”

“Hey, ladies,” a guy’s voice called out.

“Dayton?” Janelle yelled back.

“You know me?”

Janelle stood up and walked around to the other side of the pool deck where she could see better. Chelsea remained behind just watching to see what transpired.

“Why wouldn’t I know you?” Janelle demanded.

“Oh, it’s just Baby Face Parker.” He sounded disappointed as he hoisted himself to the top of the wall, perching there with one knee under his elbow like he thought he was posing for a photo. “You don’t even live here, Baby Face.” He pointed at Chelsea. “But tell me, who is that?”

“That is my friend,” Janelle said in a snooty voice. “And she happens to live here.”

“I see.” He grinned and waved at Chelsea. “Hello, neighbor!”

“Fine,” Janelle said sharply. “You said hello, now leave us alone.”

But the guy hopped off the wall and into Chelsea’s yard. With a confident stride, he came toward her. Her old instincts told her to get up and run the other way—that this was the kind of guy who ignored girls like her, or worse. But instead of giving in to those old fears, she stayed put. Keeping a blasé expression, she took in a slow, deep breath, and using her hand as a visor for the glare over the top of her shades, she simply looked at him. His short, cropped hair was sandy brown, and he was wearing navy athletic shorts and a sleeveless white T-shirt that showed off some well-developed and tanned biceps. As he got closer, she could see that his features were even and tanned and that he was good-looking. In fact, he was extremely good-looking. Uncomfortably good-looking.

“I just wanted to be neighborly.” He gave a mock bow as he looked down at her. “I’m Dayton Moore.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I live back there.”

Chelsea sat up and swung her legs around, then stood and extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Dayton Moore. I’m Chelsea Martin.”

“Pleased to meet you.” He continued to hold her hand, and despite his sporty shades, she could sense him checking her out—closely. To her surprise, she didn’t even feel overly concerned that she was wearing the bikini today. After all, she was in her own backyard. If this guy wanted to act so brazen, she was ready to stand her ground. Let him look!

She removed her hand from his and tipped her head slightly. “Do you always jump over neighbors’ walls to make yourself known?” she calmly asked him.

He chuckled. “Not unless the neighbor is a hot babe like you.”

Janelle groaned. “Now there’s a great come-on line if I ever heard one.”

Chelsea laughed. “Yes, Dayton. I think you need to work on that. Or maybe it’s the delivery.”

He looked slightly embarrassed. “So, uh, you’re new in town?”

She nodded. “And you aren’t?”

He looked like he didn’t know what to say or what to do with his hands, and since he had no pockets, he slipped them behind his back.

“Dayton is a senior,” Janelle told Chelsea in a flat tone. “But I’ve known him since grade school. He used to be nicer.”

“What year are you?” Dayton asked Chelsea.

“Junior.” Chelsea smiled.

“That’s cool.” Dayton looked pleased, like he was relieved she was younger than him. “Very cool.”

“Yeah, but don’t get yourself all worked up, Hollywood, she’s still out of your league,” Janelle told him.

He threw his shoulders back. “Says who?”

Janelle laughed. “Anyone with a fully operative brain.”

Dayton shook a finger at Janelle. “Wait a minute, Baby Face, how can she be out of my league if she’s your friend?”

Janelle rolled her eyes, but she looked slightly uneasy.

He turned back to Chelsea. “Don’t get pulled in by Baby Face. She might not have mentioned that she’s just an academic geek.”

Chelsea frowned at him. “So do you have something against intelligent girls?”

“Not if they come with a great package like you’ve got.” He grinned.

“Thanks, but as I said . . .” Chelsea shifted to a cool tone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dayton. Now if you’ll excuse us, Janelle and I were just going inside. We’ve had enough sun for a while.”

“Hey, we were just getting acquainted,” he said.

She gave him what she hoped looked like a bright but insincere smile. “Yes, we were. And it’s been very nice, Dayton.”

“I’d like to get to know you better, Chelsea,” he said. “Maybe we could go and get—”

“Hopefully we will get to know each other better . . . some other time.” She wiggled her fingers in a mini wave and stepped into the shade. “Really, you wouldn’t want us to get sunstroke out here, would you?”

He gave a slightly goofy smile. “No, not at all. I gotta go anyway. I was on my way to football practice when I heard you girls talking and thought I’d sneak a peek.” He stood straighter. “You probably don’t know that I’m the starting quarterback this season.”

Chelsea nodded like this was impressive. Really, it was. If the starting quarterback at her former school had even smiled at her, she would’ve been over the moon, but now . . . things were different. “Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from that, Dayton.”

He grinned. “See you around then?”

“I hope so.”

“Oh, brother,” Janelle said after they were behind closed doors in the house. “What a jerk.”

“Really?” Chelsea watched Dayton use a tree branch to hoist himself back to the top of the wall and over. “He was a little rude . . . but he seemed okay.”

“Well, that just shows what you know. Or what you don’t know. Trust me, Dayton Moore is a total jerk.” She pointed to Chelsea and laughed. “But I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

Chelsea felt confused. “Why?”

“Because it’s pretty obvious that you, Chelsea Martin, are a jerk magnet.”

“A what?”

“A jerk magnet.”

Chelsea frowned. She was trying hard not to feel offended, which wasn’t easy. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Janelle was chortling even harder now. “I’m sorry, Chelsea.” She let out a little snort of laughter. “I can’t believe I actually said that. I mean, about being a jerk magnet—I suppose that sounds a little harsh.”

“I guess.”

“Although I do stand by what I said about Dayton. He is a first-class jerk, and I know lots of people who would agree with me on the subject.”

“Fine!” Chelsea’s voice grew sharp. “I wouldn’t know about that since I barely met the guy. But why are you calling me a jerk magnet?” Suddenly she was rethinking her strategy to befriend this girl. Seriously, if this was how Janelle treated her friends, perhaps Chelsea needed to look elsewhere for connections.

“Really, I’m sorry, Chelsea.” Janelle sputtered like she was attempting to control her laughter.

“Whatever.” With narrowed eyes, Chelsea folded her arms across her front.

“I’m sorry,” Janelle said again. “Please, forget I even said that. It was stupid, okay?”

“But I still want to know why you said it. I thought we were friends, and now you’re treating me like—”

“Come here!” Janelle grabbed Chelsea by the arm and tugged her over to the mirror between the kitchen and dining area. “Look at yourself, Chelsea. Take a good long look.”

Chelsea peered at her image. “What?”

“Just like Dayton said, you look like a hot babe, and to a jerk like him, a hot babe is like dangling raw meat in front of a hungry bear. Or in other words, a jerk magnet.”

“Huh?” Chelsea wasn’t sure if it was the mixed metaphors, too much time in the sun, or her own hurt feelings, but she was seriously baffled.

“And then you’re wearing that.” Janelle pointed at her chest.

Chelsea looked down at herself. “My bikini?”

“Talk about your first-rate jerk bait.”

Chelsea slowly nodded. “Yeah, I sorta see what you mean. Maybe you’re right.” Still feeling defensive, not to mention hurt, she explained how Kate had given her the bikini as a going-away gift.

Janelle blinked. “I’ll bet your dad loved that.”

Chelsea chuckled. “Yeah . . . not so much.” She confessed to Janelle about how she’d been wearing it when the college-aged guy had made a big pass at her in Albuquerque.

“See what I mean?” Janelle nodded triumphantly. “You are a jerk magnet.”

“I’ll admit this bikini isn’t fit for public viewing. But to be fair, I was wearing it in the privacy—the so-called privacy—of my own backyard. First I get Chase gawking at me from your yard, and the next thing I know it’s Dayton from the other side. Seriously, Janelle, what’s a girl supposed to do?”

“I guess it’s not really fair.” Janelle grinned. “Unless you want to start wearing a burka.”

“Yeah, right.”

Janelle laughed. “Hey, I hear they have burka swimsuits that cover from head to toe.”

“Sounds lovely.”

They both started joking and laughing, and Chelsea told herself that Janelle hadn’t meant to be mean when she’d called Chelsea a jerk magnet. Even so, it still stung a bit. In a way, it reminded her of how she’d felt blindsided by Virginia and her old friends. The way people could turn on you in an instant—it was scary.

After Janelle left, Chelsea took a good long look at herself in the full-length mirror with the bikini on. It did seem a bit indecent, especially considering that her own backyard wasn’t as private as she’d imagined. She decided that from now on, she would forgo the bikini. That would make Dad happy too. Besides, it wasn’t like the stringy pieces were particularly comfortable, even if the lack of tan lines was nice.





On Friday, Janelle and Chelsea went back-to-school shopping. The plan had been for Mrs. Parker to drive them, but at the last minute, Grayson stepped in and offered, explaining that he still needed to pick up a few things to take with him to college.

“He’s just driving us because of you,” Janelle whispered to Chelsea as they walked out to Janelle’s mom’s car. “He’ll probably ask you to sit in front with him too.” She made a disgusted face.

Chelsea shrugged. “So what do you want me to do about it?”

“We’ll both just sit in back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Janelle giggled. “We’ll pretend Grayson’s our chauffeur. That’ll show him.”

So when Grayson casually offered Chelsea the front seat, Janelle pulled her into the backseat. Calling her brother “James,” Janelle commanded him like he was her personal servant, telling him what to do and how to get them to their destination. Grayson was actually a pretty good sport about it.

“Thank you, James,” Janelle said as he pulled in front of the store. “But don’t expect a bonus for today’s driving performance.”

“No problem,” Grayson teased back. “I’ll just drop you girls off here, and hopefully you can find another way to get home.”

“You do that and I’ll call Mom,” Janelle threatened.

“Just kidding.” Grayson held up his hands.

“We’ll call you when we’re ready to go,” Janelle said as they got out.

“And just maybe I’ll come and get you. That is, if I’m ready,” he called through his open window.

“Thanks for the ride.” Chelsea smiled at him. “For the record, I thought your driving skills were well above average.”

He thanked her with a lopsided grin. “Maybe while I’m away at college, you can teach my sister some manners.”

“I heard that, Grayson.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Take a hint.”

Chelsea waved to him as she followed Janelle into the store. Last night Dad had informed her that a new shipment had come on Wednesday and that it had taken all of Thursday to get it put out. He’d also said that as long as she was discreet about it and handled the transaction herself, it would be okay for Janelle to get a few things on the employee discount.

They headed straight for the junior section, and remembering how Kate had perused the designer racks first, Chelsea made an attempt to imitate her. When she found something good, she’d take it over and hold it up in front of a full-length mirror. “This is the first step to shopping,” she told Janelle. “You try to see if it even looks good on you. That way you don’t waste time trying something on that’s really not you.”

“That makes sense.” Janelle nodded. “See, you’re better at this than you thought.”

With that encouragement, Chelsea tried to remember more of the shopping tips that Kate had taught her. The more she shared, the more her confidence grew. After they had both found a number of items and were in the dressing rooms trying things on, Chelsea heard a phone ringing in Janelle’s changing room.

“Oh, Chase,” Janelle said. “What’s up?” She listened for a bit, then called over to Chelsea. “Chase wants to know if we’re still on for the concert tomorrow night. Sounds like his dad got ahold of some free tickets.”

Even though Chelsea was in her underwear, she popped out of her changing room and went into Janelle’s. “Ask Chase if Nicholas is coming,” she said in a whisper.

“Huh?”

“Ask about Nicholas, okay?”

Janelle shrugged. “Uh, Chase, is Nicholas coming?” She waited, then shrugged again.

“Tell him that I want Nicholas to come,” Chelsea said. “Or else I’m not going.” She lowered her voice. “That way Chase won’t think that I’m on a date with him, okay?”

Janelle’s eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. She relayed the message, and after a bit she hung up. “Chase said he’ll get back to us on that.” Janelle studied Chelsea. “Seriously, you think Nicholas will want to come too?”

Chelsea shrugged. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Janelle looked at Chelsea in her underwear. “You, uh, might want to go put something on.”

They both giggled, and Chelsea hurried back to her changing room. She felt a little nervous about this plan. It was presumptuous of her to think that Nicholas would come just because she wanted him to. On the other hand, she seemed to have experienced some pretty impressive success at turning guys’ heads lately. Why shouldn’t she turn Nicholas’s?

Shortly after the girls had finalized their selections, made their purchases, and were waiting for Grayson to pick them up, Chase called again. To Chelsea’s surprise, Janelle handed the phone to her. “Fine. Here she is,” she said in a flat tone.

“I just wanted to tell you that Nicholas has agreed to come, Chelsea. So I wanted to be sure this wasn’t some kind of trick on Janelle’s part. Are you really coming now?”

“Sure, I’m coming.” She tossed Janelle a look.

“Oh, well, cool.”

“See ya then.” Chelsea handed the phone back to Janelle.

“Are you happy now?” Janelle asked him. A few more words were exchanged, then Janelle hung up, rolling her eyes. “Chase can be so obnoxious.” She shook her head as she dropped her phone in her purse. “I honestly don’t know what I even see in him.”

“Maybe you’re a jerk magnet too,” Chelsea teased.

“Huh?” Janelle frowned.

“You’re the magnet that’s attracted to the jerk. Not the other way around.”

“Very funny.” Janelle scowled then laughed. “But I suppose you could be right. Maybe it is a two-way street.”

Chelsea nodded. She felt slightly vindicated now. It had been bugging her that Janelle had called her a jerk magnet yesterday. But if they were both jerk magnets—perhaps one was a north pole and the other a south pole—maybe it wasn’t so insulting after all.





Chelsea was well aware that she spent more time getting ready for things than she’d ever spent before. Part of her felt a little silly about this new self-absorption and the primping and preening that came with it. But another part of her didn’t care. After all, how many years had she put zero effort into her appearance? Back then, instead of focusing on how great she could look, Chelsea had been preoccupied with making herself as invisible as possible. It was funny how obsessions could change.

She finally decided on an outfit she’d tried on before the pile of clothes on her bed had become a small mountain. She knew wearing white jeans was risky—one spill and she could be a mess—but she also knew she looked hot in these jeans. And with the watermelon-red top, which showed off her curves, and a woven Prada belt that she’d gotten for next to nothing, she was smoking. She was tempted to take a phone photo and send it to Kate just to impress her, but it was almost time to go, and she still wanted to touch up her makeup. Over the top? Maybe so. But more than anything, she wanted to catch Nicholas Prague’s eye tonight.

She knew this wasn’t a date per se, but in her mind, she imagined it was. Because Chase had promised to get Nicholas to come, she felt reasonably sure that he’d be with them tonight. All day long she’d been practicing conversations she might have with him. She had questions all ready to ask him. And she planned to do whatever was necessary, within reason, to turn that boy’s head. She wasn’t sure if what she was experiencing was truly a crush or not, but she knew she was pretty much obsessed with Nicholas Prague. The question was, could she get him to return the obsession?

Dad let out a whistle as Chelsea walked through the great room. “Wowzers, Chels, you look—well, uh—” he stammered.

She stared back at him. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” He shook his head. “You look very pretty. You say this is a Christian concert you’re going to?”

She nodded as she slipped her purse over her shoulder. “Like I said, there are a bunch of kids from Janelle’s church all going together.”

Dad was turned away from her, looking out the front window. “So this isn’t a date or anything like that?”

“No,” she assured him. “It’s not a date. Just kids doing something together.” She went over to stand by him. “But what if it was a date?”

He turned and looked at her with one brow arched slightly. “Then I’d say it’s time for us to have a father-daughter talk, young lady.”

She laughed. “What would you tell me?”

“Oh, the regular stuff. I’d warn you that all teenage boys have one thing and one thing only on their minds.”

“Oh, Dad!” She shook her head. “Do you really believe that?”

“You bet I do.”

“What about nice churchgoing boys?”

He frowned. “They’re probably the worst of the bunch.”

“The worst?” She acted shocked. However, she remembered the way Chase had come on to her, how he’d looked at her . . . and she wasn’t so sure that Dad wasn’t right.

“You’ve turned into a very, very pretty girl,” Dad said. “I just hope that you’re well aware—” He stopped and pointed to a white van in front of the house with the church’s name on the side of it. “Is that what you’re going in?”

She chuckled. “I guess so. One guy’s dad is the pastor.”

Dad looked relieved. “It looks like there are a bunch of kids already in there.” He turned and smiled at her. “Well, you have fun now.”

“Thanks.” Chelsea was already going out the door.

“And you’ve got your phone if you need anything.”

“Yes, Dad.” She waved and closed the door. As she walked toward the van, she pasted a smile on her face, trying to hide her disappointment. She’d hoped that it would only be Chase and Janelle and Nicholas and her, but her dad was right. The van was already nearly filled with kids.

“Hey,” Janelle called as she jogged across her yard toward them.

“I didn’t know that Chase was bringing half the youth group with him,” Chelsea said.

Janelle laughed. “The more the merrier, I guess.”

Chase jumped out of the van, holding the side door open for them. “Welcome, ladies.” He gave Chelsea a big smile. “Welcome, welcome!”

Raymond was in the driver’s seat, with Nicholas sitting next to him. Both called out greetings as she and Janelle slid into the middle seat. Chelsea recognized some of the other faces but couldn’t quite get the names.

“Let’s rock ’n’ roll,” Chase called as he closed the door and popped into the seat next to Janelle. At least that was a relief. Yet Chelsea couldn’t help but feel a sense of letdown as the van full of youth group kids drove through town. People were laughing and joking and singing, but feeling out of place and a bit silly for her high expectations, she kept her gaze fixed out the window. Except for every once in a while when she let herself glance at Nicholas. He looked even more handsome tonight than he had at the barbecue. From this angle, with those cheekbones and straight nose, he reminded her of Orlando Bloom.

With the noise in the van, she couldn’t make out what Nicholas and Raymond were saying, but they seemed to be in the midst of an intense conversation about something. She was trying to listen, but then Nicholas looked back at her and she felt rather intrusive. For a moment their eyes locked and she felt a rush of pleasure. But then his brow creased in a way that suggested he was displeased about something—most likely that she was eavesdropping. Suddenly feeling insecure, she quickly looked away out of habit.

As the van continued its drive, she kept her eyes and ears tuned in to everything going on outside. She felt as much like a misfit as she’d ever felt, and she wondered if she’d ever fit in . . . anywhere. Maybe it was her destiny to be an outsider. Maybe she should simply expect it.

Finally they were at the megachurch where the concert was being held. Happy to escape the slightly claustrophobic van, Chelsea stood by herself, waiting for the kids to reassemble and head into the concert. She was slightly surprised to see that Nicholas seemed to be pairing up with a girl named Olivia Hutchison. Olivia seemed like a nice girl, although she was pretty loud, but she was also quite chubby and, in Chelsea’s opinion, not very pretty or fashionable. Naturally, Chelsea felt curious as to how this frumpy-dumpy girl had attracted someone as hot as Nicholas.

“Hey, good lookin’.” Chase came over and linked arms with Chelsea, loudly singing the old ditty. “Whatcha got cookin’? How’s about cookin’—”

“Good grief, Chase.” Janelle frowned at him as she linked his other arm with hers. “Could you be any more obnoxious?”

“Obnoxious?” He gave her an innocent look. “Hey, I’m just being friendly.”

Chelsea actually appreciated this token of attention. Feeling more and more like the outsider, she was happy to feel included by someone, even if it was only Chase. She just hoped that it wouldn’t make Janelle jealous.

After they got inside the church’s foyer, Janelle tugged Chelsea toward the women’s restroom. “Why aren’t you being more friendly to Nicholas?” she whispered as she paused by the drinking fountain.

“What do you mean?”

Janelle gave her a “duh” look. “I know you like him.”

“So?” Chelsea shrugged.

“So, go after him.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Chelsea asked.

“Just go up and talk to him,” Janelle suggested.

“Just like that?”

Janelle shrugged. “Why not? You look great—as usual. Chase can’t keep his eyes off you. Why not use what you’ve got to get Nicholas to pay attention too?”

Chelsea twisted her mouth to one side. That had originally been her plan, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“Come on,” Janelle urged, “give it your best shot. I’m sure Nicholas has no idea that you like him. Take the initiative.” Chase was waving at them like it was time to find their seats. Janelle hurried to join him, and Chelsea glanced around to see that Nicholas was still with Olivia. Bolstering her spirits, she decided to take Janelle’s advice and just go for it. Really, what did she have to lose? Well, besides her pride.

“Hey there, Olivia,” Chelsea said as she joined the two of them. “I think I met you at the barbecue, but we didn’t really get a chance to talk. I’m new in town and trying to get to know some people.” Chelsea carefully avoided Nicholas’s eyes.

Olivia smiled. “Yeah, I remember you.” She gave what seemed an approving nod. “You look really pretty tonight.”

Chelsea kind of shrugged. “Thanks. So do you.”

Olivia’s smile faded a bit. “Thanks.” She glanced at Nicholas. “You probably already know Chelsea, right?”

“We met before,” he said in a slightly chilly tone.

“That’s right.” Chelsea nodded. “You spoke at the barbecue. I really liked what you said.”

He brightened some. “Thanks. That’s nice to hear.”

“I wanted to tell you that night,” she continued. “But you were already surrounded by your adoring fans.”

Now his smile looked a little stiff.

“Yes, Nicholas does attract some followers.” Olivia’s tone was edged with sarcasm. “Especially of the female variety.” She chuckled but looked directly at Chelsea. “You should’ve seen this guy at camp. All the girls there fell madly in love with him. Didn’t they, Nick?”

He shrugged and glanced away. “Not so I noticed.”

“Poor Nick.” Olivia put her arm around his shoulders in a sideways hug. “He tries to be nice to everyone. But the girls just seem to take him the wrong way. Well, most of the girls anyway.”

“That must be a challenge.” Chelsea pressed her lips together, trying to think of a graceful way to get out of this. Olivia obviously thought Chelsea was no different than those other girls. Even though it was true, Chelsea had no desire to stand here feeling foolish.

“You have to give Nick credit,” Olivia continued. “He tries to keep a low profile, but the girls are like flies to honey whenever he’s around.”

“Like flies to honey?” He laughed. “Give me a break, Olivia.”

“It’s true and you know it.”

“Well . . . I, uh, I just wanted to say hi.” Chelsea stepped away. “I think I’ll go find a seat.” Before Olivia could make another insinuation, Chelsea hurried down the aisle and as far away from them as she could get. As a result, she wound up sitting near the front with people she’d never met. She could feel the heat of embarrassment on her face, but she simply leaned over, put her head in her hands, and tried to gather her thoughts, hoping that others would assume she was praying.

She felt perfectly ridiculous. She couldn’t believe how much effort and energy she’d put into this evening. How she’d thought it might be almost like a date and that she’d somehow manage to get Nicholas’s attention. Well, she’d gotten it all right. Now she was so embarrassed she didn’t care if she ever crossed paths with him again. And that Olivia—well, she was a real piece of work. Like flies to honey? Who says that? But what really got Chelsea was how Olivia seemed perfectly confident and self-assured in her own skin. How had that happened? Chelsea simply did not get it.

The music was already playing, and Chelsea had to admit that the band seemed pretty good. Of course, she felt out of sync with everyone else smiling and singing, clapping and swaying to the beat. But she reminded herself that she was working on her acting skills. Why not put them to use here? So she began to act as if she were having as good a time as anyone. Ironically, the more she pretended, the less she needed to. She actually was enjoying herself.

But it was more than that. Chelsea felt as if the words to the songs and the messages being shared by the musicians were going straight to her heart. The more she heard about how these people were experiencing real relationships with a living God and how Jesus wanted to be their friend—their very best friend—the more she wanted this exact same thing in her own life. Chelsea knew she’d been lonely for a long time—probably since the death of her mother—and she wanted a friend who would stick by her no matter what.

When it came time to accept the challenge to step out of her comfort zone and go forward to stand up near the band, Chelsea went. With trembling knees and tears streaking down her cheeks, she prayed the prayer with the others who were standing up front.

“Dear Jesus,” she echoed the girl who was leading them, “thank you for forgiving me . . . I ask you to come into my heart . . . I invite you into my life . . . Thank you for wanting to be my best friend.” Finally she said, “Amen.”

The music started again, and people slowly filed back to their seats. As Chelsea made her way back, she glanced around to see if any others from the youth group had come up here, but she didn’t recognize any faces. Probably those kids had long since made this kind of commitment. That was fine because Chelsea knew that what she’d done was between her and God.

For the next few songs, the lyrics were posted on a huge screen behind the podium, which made it easy for Chelsea to sing along. As she sang these worshipful songs, she realized that she honestly meant the words. This was no act. She didn’t fully understand what she’d signed up for, but she knew the commitment she’d just made was genuine. And although she had no idea where all this would take her, she didn’t feel worried. Mostly she was just happy. Not a delirious, over-the-top sort of happy—it was more of a quiet and expectant kind of happy. Peaceful.

She sat in the same seat in the van as they drove home. This time everyone in the van was louder and more boisterous than earlier. Chelsea felt a bit like the old Chelsea . . . the invisible wallflower. But oddly enough, this time she didn’t really mind. She just wanted to be quiet and to soak all this in. She wanted to think about everything, to absorb what had happened tonight, to hide it deep inside of her—almost as if it were a rare jewel, something precious that she needed to protect and hold on to.