“That bad, huh?” Staring at the most Jesus-like boy I’ve come across this semester, seeing him broken down like this is all at once refreshing and startling. “Why?”
He shrugs, slumping down again in his seat. “Stuff.”
“Eloquent.”
Jonah.
I know she’s being genuine, and that she won’t tell much of our conversation to Eden. I trust Kennedy. But, I also don’t want to hurt her. The stuff that’s been going on with Matt isn’t the only reason why I’ve been wrestling with God lately, but it has opened my eyes. I don’t know why God would let all of that stuff happen to his family. Why his dad would cheat on his mom with more than one woman. That he paid for.
But what I do know is that Matt’s found himself in the same kind of “dancing” places more than once since Thanksgiving break, and God isn’t helping him with that either. No matter how hard I pray. It was a miracle of sorts, I guess, that Matt told me any of that at all. I nearly pried it out of him when he started looking unkempt and withdrawn, and had an even greater lack of focus on his schoolwork than usual. He didn’t give me much in the way of details, but the shame all over his face as he spoke was enough.
Matt’s in big trouble, and Kennedy’s getting hurt in the process. I know he likes her and that she likes him, but thankfully Matt’s aware that he’s in no place to offer her a relationship right now. Instead of being honest with her, which he thinks is going to make him lose her forever, he’s pushing her away. I’m not sure his thinking is clear where she’s concerned. I know that Kennedy and/or Roland could be of some help to Matt if he would just let me tell them. Or if he would tell them himself. But, he begged for my silence on this, and I promised I would—unless I think he’s in serious danger.
The fact that he’d been shallow in his returning of my texts during this break so far, however, leads me to believe I’m running out of reasons to keep his secrets.
“Stuff,” I answer sullenly when Kennedy asks me why I’m struggling. Because it’s true. It’s so much stuff. Watching how she’s been treated this semester, everything with Matt, and dealing with my father as I stand up for what I believe in biblically and politically. Stuff.
“Eloquent,” she cracks before opening her bag of chips. “Eloquently full of crap.”
“Kennedy,” Roland chimes in from the front seat.
“You’re not listening,” she retorts in the same cautionary tone.
He just shakes his head and keeps driving. Not another word.
“Look,” I offer in an attempt to move the conversation along. “It’s just growing pains, you know? I see how Joy treated you, I hear how people talk behind others’ backs, I see what’s going on in this country—”
“Is that why you wanted to come on this trip?” she asks, licking bright orange powder from her fingers. “Research?”
To get out of my house and spend time with a sane person like Roland.
“Yes,” I half-lie. “And I figured it’d be an easy way to hang out with Matt some more.”
That part isn’t a lie. I know Matt needs me, because he’s shut everyone else out. And that fractured look in Kennedy’s eyes proves she’s his latest victim.
Come on, God. I don’t know if our line has been severed, or what, but I need you. Matt needs you. Work through me however you can. Please. He’s too good for what he’s putting himself through.
Hopefully I can get through to him before it’s too late.
My phone dings with a text, but I ignore it in an effort to communicate with Kennedy. It dings again, and Kennedy huffs, rolls her eyes, and waves her phone. Get a clue she mouths. Feeling embarrassed at my lack of social skill with Kennedy—as always—I lift my phone from beside me.
Kennedy: Please tell me what’s really going on with Matt
For once I wish this conversation was about Eden. I do feel awful about the way our relationship went, but I know Eden means it when she says she wants to stay friends, and I intend to hold up my end of that friendship until I’m ready for more. If I’m ever ready for more, and if she still wants me then.
Me: Sorry. I can’t tell you.
Kennedy: Why? He won’t tell me, and I know it’s not good. I can’t help him if I don’t know what’s going on.
Casting a glance to my left, I study Kennedy’s downtrodden face. While she typically looks serious, I’ve rarely seen her sad. I sigh.
Me: You couldn’t help him even if you knew, Kennedy. I don’t even know what’s all going on.
Kennedy: Let’s start with his dad. From what I can piece together, he’s got a bit of a drinking problem and probably cheated on Matt’s mom at least twice?
I clench my teeth to prevent my mouth from swinging open.
Kennedy: I’m right aren’t I?
Me: How?
Are you so good at reading people? I’d like to tell her it’s a gift she clearly inherited from her dad, but she often gets a sour look on her face when people compare her to Roland. Though, given the hug I saw them in today, I bet it wouldn’t be so bad. Still, I stay on the safe side.
Kennedy: I’ve got loads of friends with divorced parents and I watch a lot of TV.
Me: Oh …