Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father

Roland’s eyes connect with mine and he nods. “Even this place.” He tilts his chin behind me.

“The coffee shop?!” My voice rises to pre-shriek and I practically jump to my feet. One part of the handbook I managed to pay attention to regarding off-campus work pointed out that there were off-campus jobs available, but they had to be approved by the university. Obviously, it hadn’t occurred to me that Word would be one of those places. You know, with all the half-naked patrons and all.

He nods, his full-wattage smile—complete with dimple—nearly blinding me. “Just this one, though. I think a couple of retail stores and a bookstore…”

I don’t listen to the rest of his list. Ignoring my manners and failing to excuse myself from the table, I race inside and weave my way back to the counter.

“Can I help you?” the pixie-haired barista with electric blue eyeshadow nearly sings at me. She’s clearly met her caffeine intake quota for the day.

“Hi. I’m Kennedy Sawyer and I’m a student at Carter. I hear you’ve got jobs for us.” I’m speaking so quickly that my words are spilling around each other, barely coming together in time to make me sound coherent.

I’ve never wanted to work at a coffee shop more than I do at this exact moment. As enticing as it sounds to work as a receptionist in the New Testament library on campus, I just…can’t.

The barista, whose name is Chelsea, as evidenced by her name badge, which is pinned on her apron—and is draped over gigantic breasts, I might add—breaks into laughter. Which, of course, jiggles her name.

Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea bounces in my vision and I throw up a quick, completely selfish prayer that she doesn’t send me on my less-than-merry way.

“Man,” she composes herself, “if I had the power, I’d hire you right now. You need to come back tomorrow and meet with Asher. He’s the owner and does all the hiring.”

My shoulders sink, feeling slightly deflated and cornered. What if someone else gets to this Asher guy before I do? “Can I, like, leave my name and number? I really want this job.”

Chelsea extends her hand across the counter and grips my wrist, an animated look still on her face. “Breathe. Come back tomorrow afternoon. Two o’clock. I’ll tell him you’re coming. Kennedy Sawyer, you said?”

I nod like a maniac and breathe my first real breath since arriving at the counter.

“Okay, Kennedy Sawyer,” Chelsea repeats with a wink. “See you tomorrow.”

Relief floods me and I thank her several times. I pray harder as I turn back toward my party, begging God for this much-needed space away from campus and its inhabitants each week to help keep me level. To help keep me from going off the deep end.

God’s sense of humor has frequently mirrored mine, and it couldn’t be more evident than in this moment, when I walk right into Pastor Roland and spill half his iced coffee all over him for good measure.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Hero


“Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” I’ve lost any sense of composure I once had, groping for napkins on the corner of the counter and awkwardly blotting Roland’s shoulder and arm.

He chuckles, placing his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Kennedy. Take a deep breath.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that in, like, thirty seconds,” I mumble, surrendering the napkins to him.

He cleans himself off the best he can and discards the caffeinated napkins.

“Thanks for the heads up about the job,” I say, hitching my thumb behind my shoulder to the counter. “You did that on purpose,” I assert, hoping my reading of him is getting more fluent.

Roland nods. “I figured you’d appreciate it.” He reaches past me and I see Chelsea has remade his coffee. She winks at me again and I throw her a thumbs up before returning my attention to Roland. He’s taking his sip at a safe two paces back.

“Why are you being nice to me? I was such a—jerk. I was a jerk to you.” I shift on my feet, silently cursing that I’m constantly nervous around him.

He shrugs, tilting his head to the side. “I was one to you, too.”

My eyes shoot up. His admission of being anything but perfect shocks me. “Yeah?”

He grins sympathetically. “Yeah. I pushed too far too soon. I’m just really excited that you’re here, Kennedy.” He takes one step closer and places his hand on my shoulder again, leaving it there while he finishes his thought. “Your instincts are right, though. We do need to take our time with each other.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Joy and Bridgette throwing their trash away about five feet from where Roland and I are standing. I take a step back, shaking his hand off my shoulder. Bridgette heads back outside immediately, but Joy seems to be lingering over the trash.

“Well,” I clear my throat and nod toward where Joy is stationed, “thanks again for the off-campus job information. I look forward to seeing you at New Life on Sunday.”