Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)

My two roommates look at each other, having one of their many silent conversations. I hope to get in on those at some point.

“Hello?” I wave my hand when they’ve been silent. “Is this something we pray about, or something?”

Bridgette laughs. “If you want to. But, honestly, I think you should just let it go for a while. You’ve been through a lot lately, and you’ve mentioned you think there’s cruddy stuff going on at home with Matt. Maybe he really does just need a friend right now?”

I huff, hating that she’s right. Which makes me feel worse, since I tried to force the poor kid to go out with me.

“It’s all right,” Eden tries to be reassuring, rubbing my shoulder. “You guys will have a couple of weeks to kind of forget about this before you see him in Georgia.”

“Oh man! I forgot about that.” I thump my head onto the desk. “I was hoping I’d have six weeks to forget about it,” I say to the wood.

“Well,” Eden’s tone perks up. “If you want to chicken out when the time comes, just call me and we’ll figure out a way to have you stay with me while Roland goes to Georgia.”

Standing, I close my suitcase and unplug my phone charger from the wall. “Eden, I might just take you up on that. Okay, girls. I’m off for the most bizarre six-week journey of my life. Pray for me that I come back in one piece.”

Bridgette gives me a quick, but tight hug. “I’m sure it’ll be nothing compared to what you’ve already been through this semester. You’re tough. I’m proud of you, Kennedy.”

Oddly enough, her overly-positive attitude is quite calming at the moment.

“Yes,” Eden adds. “I actually can’t wait for you to come to my house so I can show you off to all my friends. They keep asking about you.”

“Come on, Eden, really? You want to take me around like some moderately famous sideshow?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Not because of Roland, Captain Paranoia. Because I’ve told them how fierce you are. Determined. Focused. Yeah, they know about Roland. But, how you carry yourself in spite of that is what has my friends interested. They think you’re cool. Because I do.”

I hold out my arm, welcoming Eden into a group hug. “I love you girls,” I whisper.

Because, oddly enough, I really do. Almost four months in a ten-by-twelve room with two girls who scared me to death the first time I met them has changed me. Not just my attitude toward them, but to the others like them I see around campus. Slowly, my assumptions are leaning toward how my roommates are, not the horror-story version I concocted before ever setting foot on campus.

“Love you, too,” Eden replies softly.

“Me, too,” Bridgette adds.

We hug for a few seconds more before each going our own ways for the next six weeks.

Six whole weeks. With Roland.

God, I know I haven’t fully checked in lately, but … just … do what you’re gonna do here, but return me in one piece, okay?





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX





Anything Could Happen





Roland.




Villa Hills.

Crossing over the town line, my eyes drift to Kennedy, who’s had her head against the window, sleeping for the last two hours. We weren’t up too late last night, but I suspect that finals being over, as well as the emotions surrounding this visit have caught up with her.

“Hey,” I whisper, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.

She startles easily, something she warned me about last night. She told me to be loud coming up the stairs if I needed her for something, because she hates being caught off guard.

I can appreciate that.

“What?” She sits up, rubbing her eyes, then looking at her hands before flipping down the visor to look at herself in the mirror. “Phew,” she says like she’s talking to no one in particular. “I thought I had mascara on.”

I chuckle, appreciating the few unguarded seconds I have with her before she’s fully awake. “We’re going to be there in ten minutes. I wanted you to have some time …” I trail off, not knowing how to finish that sentence, but knowing she wouldn’t want to wake up in the driveway of a house she’s never been to, and likely thought she’d never visit.

She leans over, pulling a small, zippered bag from her backpack. My focus is on the road, slowly navigating the streets of my parents’ town, but from the corner of my eye I can see she’s putting on makeup. I don’t officially know what that means, but I take it at as a good sign that she seems to care about her appearance.

After a few minutes, Kennedy shoves the small bag back into her backpack and runs her hands through her hair a few times before flipping the visor back up and settling back into her seat.

“Nora and Tim, right?” she asks, her eyes forward.

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