Mrs. Knight had that tone to let her know it wasn’t a question. She expected her to stay a few minutes. It didn’t look good for her.
“Yes, ma’am.” Sloan walked over like a dog with its tail between its legs. Not literally, of course, but that’s how it felt.
“Saint Sloan, huh?” Mrs. Knight grinned.
Sloan cringed. “It’s a name Darcy stuck me with in August. I hate it.”
“I can tell. Can I give you some advice?”
Did she have a choice? “Sure.”
“Don’t let it bother you what Tanner says. In five years, you’ll barely remember him. Trust me. As for the church part, I go too.”
“You do?” For some reason, that surprised Sloan.
Mrs. Knight laughed. She’d never heard her laugh. “I don’t tell this to everyone. School policy and all, but yes, I do go to church. Every Sunday, even on Easter. And I know what people like Tanner think about us. The world thinks we are judgmental and hypocritical.”
“Hypocritical. Yes. I get that a lot, and I don’t mean to be. Honest. I don’t think I am, but I get called it a lot.”
Mrs. Knight nodded. “The only way we can change other people’s perception of Christians is to show them that we aren’t what they think. Get it? We prove we don’t think we are better than they because, I don’t know about you, but I know I’m not. I’ve known non-Christian people I’d love to act like simply because they have good attitudes and are very nice people. Becoming a Christian doesn’t mean you automatically stop making mistakes and everyone loves you.”
“Don’t I know it,” Sloan said sadly. As much as she liked talking to Mrs. Knight about this, she really needed to get to Trig.
“I heard something once, and this is totally off the record. I read it on the Internet. It said, ‘You are the only Bible some people will ever read’. Meaning…”
“Meaning I have to be nice and good even if I don’t feel like it.”
“Meaning…” Mrs. Knight corrected. “That you need to focus on living life the best you can, being nice to others, even those who don’t deserve it… turning the other cheek when someone makes fun of you for being Christian. Know that when you fail miserably, people will call you on it. People don’t forget, but if you ask God to forgive it, He will.”
A few students started walking in for second period. “And that, Miss Bridges, is my sermon for the day.”
“Very good sermon,” Sloan whispered, just in case Mrs. Knight didn’t want it getting around she was talking about God in school. She knew how much of a hot button topic it was and didn’t want to get her new favorite teacher in trouble. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Knight nodded as she changed from confidant to teacher by her hardening facial expression. “Have a good day. Do your homework. Don’t rely on Mr. Hunter this time.”
Sloan could have fallen over. Mrs. Knight just winked and turned her attention back to the papers on her desk.
She took the reprieve to try to catch up with Ray, which wasn’t hard since he was waiting for her a few feet from the door. “What was that all about? Are you in trouble?” He had his cellphone in his hand and a worried expression on his face.
“No. She just wanted to talk.” Sloan walked by him and he fell in step. “Did you hear back from Aaron?” Time to change the subject.
“He said he’d be here for lunch. Said he had something to tell us that had to be done in person.”
That did not sound good.
THE MORNING WENT BY at a snail’s pace. Apparently every teacher tried to make up for no school on Friday by cramming everything in today. Sloan tried to focus, she really did. She wrote down notes and listened. Okay, truth be told, she listened to about every other word, and her notes were all drawn roses. What was with all the roses? Couldn’t she draw another flower? Or a circle or a stick person?
By ten o’clock her head hurt so much she couldn’t take it any longer. She pulled out two pills and drowned them with some water. There. They’d kick in in a minute and she’d feel much better. Feeling better would be great.
Sure enough, a few minutes before it was time for lunch, her headache disappeared. Of course, her eyes got fuzzy again, and she felt sort of funny. She took it to mean she needed food and headed to the cafeteria.
After grabbing her tray she sat with Mackenzie for just a second. Mackenzie’s eyes got wide when she saw her friend. “You look horrible.”
“Thanks for being so blunt,” Sloan deadpanned.
“No, I’m serious. You look bad. Your eyes are all red, and you’ve got bags. Bags, Sloan. You’re just eighteen. Way too young for bags.”
Mackenzie’s concern for the bags under her eyes was overwhelming. “Not sleeping well.” Not a lie. She slept, too much probably, but not well.