“Because of you,” I reassure before slinging my bag over my shoulder and walking into a normalcy I crave—my dorm.
That I would ever call anything in this place normal never crossed my mind at the beginning of September. Still, ascending the quiet stairs, a peace fills me that I’ve been missing for the past few days. Looks like I really can do this.
Turning the doorknob to my room, I pause for a brief second to think over Matt’s words to me. Let’s just be friends for a while before we beat each other over the head with politics. Certainly my roommates have things going on in their own lives that I don’t even know. They’re closer to each other than they are to me, and that is no doubt in part because I’ve been too busy observing them from a clinical perspective. They’re people with families, hearts, and homes. And, I need to focus on treating them that way if I want to have a friendship worth anything while I’m here.
There will be plenty of time for politics later.
CHAPTER EIGHT
We Are Young
Kennedy.
“Thanks for laying low with me tonight, guys.” I talk through a mouthful of deliciously greasy lo mien, facing my roommates.
“Oh, of course,” Bridgette replies sweetly. She’s sitting cross-legged on my bed next to me, and Eden is just across from us on hers.
“And,” Eden pipes up, “any excuse for Chinese food.”
We all nod along, our too-full mouths highlighting our praise of one of the best Chinese take-out places in Asheville. It’s important to know where the best Chinese food is wherever you go. Has there ever been a comfort food quite so comforting?
Scraping the cardboard bottom of my container, I set my fork down before reaching for the chicken and broccoli. “So,” I start, hesitantly. I was hoping to avoid any discussion of anything other than food this evening. And, so far, my roommates have silently played along. “What happened with Joy?”
I meant to connect with Maggie, our RA, before my interview tomorrow, since I’ll no doubt be asked about the student who blew my world wide open. But, she’s been busy both with school and, according to my roommates, holding extra prayer sessions for our floor regarding the whole situation. Alas, I’m at a loss as to what’s become of the scandalmonger.
Be nice.
Eden and Bridgette each offer a fairly imperceptible shrug.
“It’s not really clear,” Eden starts. “A few of us asked Maggie the first night, but she said she wasn’t at liberty to speak on it until final decisions were made.”
“And,” Bridgette adds, “she said she would only tell us as much as we needed to know. Which is a nice way of saying it’s none of our business.”
I clear my throat. “I mean it’s kind of all of our business, don’t you think? Shouldn’t we learn both how to handle situations or people like her, and what the repercussions might be if we decide to behave that way?”
“I guess.” Bridgette sighs. “It’s just really sad all around.”
Slowly, I rotate my head toward her, leaving my eyes on Eden for a few seconds before letting them follow the rest of my face. “All around?”
Bridgette’s sad eyes meet mine. “Of course I feel awful for you and Pastor Roland. But, I also feel really bad for Joy.” Bridgette’s voice drops to a whisper. “What would make someone behave that way? So hurtfully? Something is seriously going wrong in her heart.”
“I’ll say.”
“Come on, Kennedy, I’m serious.” Bridgette’s eyes well with tears, and I look back to Eden with wide eyes of my own, imploring her to join us on the bed. She gets it and sets her food down, sliding in on the other side of Bridgette.
“What’s going on, Bridge?” Eden rubs on Bridgette’s back in soft circles while Bridgette stares at the floor.
“I just …” she starts. “I just don’t know what happens to someone like that. How can they be so dialed into God and fighting for salvation worldwide, and then behave so cruelly to a fellow sister?”
My lips curl up a bit at the thought of Bridgette including me in the “sisters in Christ” category in her head.
“Do you want my opinion?” I ask.
“Of course we do,” Eden says as if I’ve been accusatory. I cut her a break since I’ve not been fair to them this semester.
Taking a deep breath, I quickly scan over the last couple of months in my mind. Not just socially, but academically as well. I need to speak the language. “I think, truly, that Joy fell at some point into the land of the Pharisees.”
Their brief silence as they seem to consider my words, allows me to comb over the stories I’ve heard referenced in sermons and Bible study so far. I’m not in a New Testament class, yet, but being a Christian for my entire life has given me a few lessons on that portion of the Bible. Jesus often called out the Pharisees on their ability to recite the law and look like shiny believers but they were, in fact, frauds.
“Whitewashed tombs, right?” I recite aloud. “Didn’t Jesus literally say that they don’t practice what they preach?”
Eden nods. “In Matthew 23.”