Take Two

  Bailey hesitated, as if there was much she wanted to say. But she only held Andi’s gaze for a long while. “You can stay with my family any time over the summer. We have the apartment. If your parents don’t want to pay for the dorm …”

  “Thanks.” Andi imagined the freedom she’d have with Taz if she had their dorm room to herself. Taz had three roommates. It was a rare night when — like tonight — he had the place to himself. “Actually, I’ll probably stay in the dorm. I’m taking a few classes. Nine units, maybe. I’d like to get ahead a little, so that means making up the time somewhere.”

  “Acting still, right?”

  “Definitely. My dad’s struggling with the Brandon Paul movie, but there’ll be others. I wanna be ready next time the chance comes up.”

  Andi felt strange, the way the conversation with Bailey was going. When they started out as roommates last fall they were so much alike — two girls with a love for God and a determination to be pure. But now … their differences made even a talk like this feel strained. Like there was far more they weren’t saying. “I talked to the librarian. Looks like she has a part-time job for me over the summer recataloging the books.”

  “Sounds tedious.” Bailey wrinkled her nose.

  “I can listen to my iPod while I work.” Andi gave a light shrug. “Sounds like a paycheck to me. And my parents won’t let me stay unless I’m earning money.”

  Again Bailey seemed like she wanted to say something, and this time she dropped the chitchat about their summer plans. “How are things with Taz?”

  “He’s wonderful.” Andi felt her whole face light up. “I wish you knew him better, Bailey.”

  “I knew him a little at Clear Creek. He was a year older, so I’d forgotten until Cody reminded me.” She frowned with worry. “He didn’t have the best reputation.”

  “He’s changed. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

  “Hmmm.” Bailey fiddled with her bedspread. She’d packed up most of her things, so her side of the room was pretty bare. “What do your parents think?”

  “They don’t know that much, really. Just that I’m seeing someone.”

  “But it’s more than that, right?” Bailey didn’t sound judgmental, just concerned. “You can be honest with me. You’re falling for him, huh?”

  “I guess.” Andi walked over and sat on the bed next to Bailey. “He talks about love and then he talks about art and film and music, and the lines blur between all of it. I’ve never met anyone so romantic.”

  “What about … what about the physical stuff. He’s kissed you, right?”

  “That’s the weird thing.” Andi was dying for someone to talk to about Taz. Until now she and Bailey had only said a few words in passing, both of them too busy to discuss in depth their lives outside school. And of course Andi didn’t want to be reprimanded. “We spend all our free time together, but every time I think he’s going to kiss me, he backs away. I mean, I feel like we’re kissing every time because, I don’t know, we’re just that close. But he’s a gentleman, Bailey. He doesn’t want to do anything I’m not comfortable with.”

  Bailey looked relieved. “That’s good.” She bit her lip. “What about the movie? The film you made?”

  “It’s finished. He turned it in last week as part of his final. I guess the department gave out awards and his film took the top prize.” There was something else, something Taz wanted to tell her tonight. But for now that’s all Andi knew. Except that the short movie was the talk of the Indiana University film department. “I think it really grew me as an actress.”

  Bailey nodded. “You took off your shirt, right? Down to your bra?”

  The conversation was going too well for Andi to ruin it now with the whole truth. She nodded. “Yes. The scene called for it.”

  “You’d better hope it doesn’t get out on the Internet.” Bailey put her hand on Andi’s knee. “You know how easy it is to put things on YouTube or Facebook. If your parents saw it, they’d be freaked out for sure.”

  “For sure.” Andi’s stomach twisted at the thought. She hadn’t considered the possibility, and now it was too late. She would talk to Taz about it later.

  “And what about God?” Bailey seemed more relaxed now. Less worried about hitting a taboo topic. “How are things with you and Him?”

  “Well …” She winced. “I haven’t exactly been a good little Cru girl this quarter. Too busy with Robin Hood and my grades.”

  “And Taz.”

  “Yes, and Taz.” She took a quick breath and tried to sound upbeat. “But there’s always the fall quarter. It’s easier to get involved then, anyway.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t talking about Cru.” Bailey’s voice softened. She cared; Andi could feel her sincerity in a way she’d forgotten until now. “I was talking about God.”

  “God.” Andi stood and wandered back to her side of the room. She opened her dresser drawer and glanced at Rachel’s journal, tucked in near the back. She shut the drawer and leaned against the wall near her bed. “I still believe, if that’s what you mean. I guess I just have to find my own way. You know, because God will always be there for me.”

  “But we won’t always be here for God.” Bailey lowered her eyes to the dresser where she must’ve known Rachel’s journal was. “Your friend Rachel’s life told us that much.”

  Andi understood the message. There was risk for the people who walked away from God, who believed that He’d be there waiting in the tomorrows of their lives, when they were tired of exploring the world, when they wanted the safety of His narrow path once again. What if tomorrow never came, the way it hadn’t come for Rachel Baugher? “I don’t know,” Andi sighed. “I have to find my own way. That’s all.”

  “Okay.” Bailey’s smile was sad. “But remember what the Bible says about life. Real life.”

  “That only God can give it?” Andi knew her Scriptures. That much hadn’t changed.

  “Exactly. And apart from Him, there is no life at all.” Bailey stood and checked the time on her phone. “I have to get going. Wanna join us for dinner?”

  “No, thanks.” Andi met Bailey near the middle of the room. “Taz is taking me out. We’re celebrating his film and the fact that finals are over. I get to see the finished movie for the first time tonight.”

  Bailey nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving Andi’s. “Be careful, girl. And call me if you need me.” The two of them hugged. “Let’s get together early next week.”

  “Okay.” Andi was glad they’d talked. It had been too long without a heart-to-heart, and even though they disagreed about life and the way to true happiness, they were still close. Closer than Andi had thought. Bailey wasn’t going to write her off just because of her decisions. Andi was grateful, because someday — some very far-off day — she might want to be like Bailey again. And when that day came, if it came, Bailey would be her best friend ever. The way she couldn’t really be right now, when they were so different.

  Bailey left, and a few hours later Andi arrived at Taz’s doorstep.

  He stepped out onto the small landing and looked at her for a long time, his eyes taking in the length of her. “You’re the most beautiful girl on campus, Andi. In person, and in front of the camera.” He led her in, and she caught the smell of incense burning in another room. It was sweet and spicy, but not overpowering, and it mixed with something cooking in the oven. A Mexican dish of some kind. Andi took off her sweater and laid it over the back of the first chair they walked past. She wore skinny jeans and boots, a form-fitting navy-blue T-shirt and her best perfume. She hoped it would be enough to finally convince him to make a move and kiss her.

  She looked around his apartment, at the way it felt like him. She’d only been here one other time, and then only to meet up with him before a movie.

  Now, with his roommates gone and the place cleaned up, she took time to appreciate the place. Photos of partially nude women hung on the walls, each of them shot in dramatic black and white, a collection of art the wa
y only Taz could appreciate it. He watched her. “I look at those photos, at the way they use their bodies to make a statement about love and nature.” He gazed at a row of portraits, and then back at her. “And all I see is you, Andi. The way you would look in every picture. Every pose.”

  Her head spun, and her mouth went dry. He was falling for her, he had to be. If he didn’t kiss her tonight, she would find a way to kiss him. She couldn’t go another night without feeling his touch.

  They moved into his living room, which consisted of an old leather sofa topped with a number of warm, fuzzy blankets. He came close to her, so close she could smell the freshness of his skin.

  With the lightest brush of his fingers, he framed her face. “I thought we’d start with the film.”

  “Great.” She felt a thrill of excitement run through her. “I can’t wait.”

  He clicked on the TV and turned off the lights. But before he pushed the Play button, he sat on the sofa beside her and faced her. “You won best actress, Andi. I didn’t want to tell you until now, so I could see your eyes.”

  Hope surged through her. “You’re serious?” She wanted to get up and run around the room, but she threw her arms around his neck instead. “You know what this means?”

  A soft chuckle came from him. “It means I was right.” He pulled back and looked deeply into her eyes. “You have a gift.”

  “It means I can act! I can do this for a living, I know it!”

  They looked at each other for a long time, and Andi wanted him to kiss her in the worst way. But just when it seemed like he might, he put his arm around her shoulders instead and eased her close against his side. “The film is amazing, and it’s all you.” He hit the Play button, and the movie began.

  When they reached the scene where she strips down, Andi held her breath. But Taz had stayed true to his word. The scene was shadowy and sensual, and other than the moment when she looked at herself in the mirror, it would’ve been impossible to tell she was the actress.

  “Beautiful,” Taz whispered near her ear. His breath came faster again, the way it had when he filmed the scene. “You take my breath away, Andi.”

  He whispered to her again and again throughout the film, and when it was finished, when he hit the Stop button and powered down the television, Andi could feel his desire like a physical presence. Taz turned to her and lightly touched her forehead, her cheeks. “You’re mine. You know that, right?”

  “Yes.” Andi didn’t hesitate. Her whisper was breathy, revealing her own heightened sensuality. “I’ve belonged to you for a long time.”

  That was all he needed to hear. In a move that felt almost scripted, Taz kissed her. The feeling was like every wonderful thing Andi had ever experienced, all rolled into one brilliant rainbow of emotions. She wasn’t sure when he eased her onto her back or how he moved from kissing her to touching her, to peeling away her clothing. But whatever was happening, Andi didn’t want it to stop. She’d never felt like this in all her life.

  Thirty minutes later, when she had given Taz everything she had to give and was getting dressed, she felt a flickering pang of regret. Her father’s face flashed in her mind, and she imagined for an instant how disappointed he’d be, how this was a promise that could never be lived out after tonight. But even if her father knew, and if she were forced to defend herself and her actions, Andi would do so. Because nothing in all her life had ever made her feel the way Taz had this past half hour.

  She wasn’t just another college girl sleeping with any other college guy. She was in love, and Taz was everything she’d dreamed of. She would remind herself as often as the doubts might come. So what if she wasn’t the sweet and innocent virgin she’d hoped to be. She was a grown woman, mature enough to make her own decisions. Never mind everything she’d been taught or the narrow path she’d read about in the Bible. Everything would be just fine. What she and Taz had shared wasn’t sex or sin or anything of the sort.

  It was art.

  Breathtaking and beautiful.

  LISA SAT STRAIGHT UP IN BED, gasping for air and clutching at the covers. A feeling of utter doom surrounded her like thick fog and she could do nothing to get away from it. It was Andi! Her daughter was in trouble.

  Lisa shot a look at the bedside clock. Just after midnight, three in the morning in Bloomington. Keith was in LA so it was too late to call him, too late to call Andi. But that didn’t change how she felt. She sat up straighter and realized her heart was pounding. Faster, louder, faster, louder.

  God, what’s happening?

  Pray, my daughter. You must pray continually.

  The answer came quickly and with it a vivid picture of Andi the way she’d looked in the jungles, wide-eyed and happy, telling the women about Jesus. Something had changed that, she was suddenly certain. Never mind if Andi’s Facebook didn’t give clues, and if Andi kept convincing her and Keith that everything was okay. It didn’t matter that Andi had never given them a reason to doubt her. This was an emergency. The intensity of Lisa’s fear and panic couldn’t have been worse if she were watching her daughter fall off a cliff.

  Andi was in deep, desperate trouble.

  Pray. She had to pray. That’s what God wanted and that’s what she would do. She climbed out of bed, trembling, shivering. Please, God … be with her. Save her from whatever’s happening. Please.

  Lisa fell to the floor, to her knees and then flat on her face, her nose and mouth pressed against the rough carpet fibers.

  God, she’s our girl, our only child. Please, help her. Give me a window to her life so I’ll know how to intervene. Open the lines of communication and clear the deception. Please, God …

  Lisa prayed that way for twenty minutes, battling the darkness and fear, the certainty that Andi was in dire trouble. Finally the panic eased and she stood, weary, exhausted from the fight. Even then she prayed, because that’s what God wanted from her. She could hardly wait for morning because this time she would press until she received real answers from her daughter. She would accept nothing less. Because if the intensity of her strange and sudden certainty was accurate, her precious daughter didn’t face the sort of trouble that could be quickly fixed.

  But the sort that could destroy her.

  Twenty-Six

  KELLY AGREED TO THE WOMEN’S CONFERENCE for one reason. She had never felt further from God and Chase in all her life, and she was scared to death. Scared about the road she was on and terrified about where it might lead. Besides, Laurie had raved about the speakers and the music, and she’d done something else that pushed Kelly over the edge.

  She’d arranged a babysitter for Molly and Macy.

  When the teenage leader of the church’s youth group showed up at her house just after eight that Saturday morning, Kelly was ready. She showed the girl around the house and explained the meals for the day. “You don’t mind cooking?”

  “Not at all.” The girl smiled easily. “I cook all the time for my little sisters.”

  Finally, when Kelly had introduced Molly and Macy to the teenager and when she was certain she’d left every possible emergency number, she set out for Laurie’s house. She was running early, so she stopped at McDonald’s and bought two orders of hotcakes and a sausage biscuit. That way she wouldn’t be hungry for lunch. She ate on the way to Laurie’s and carefully wadded up the wrappers and reached back to stick them in the pocket behind her seat.

  Not that Laurie would be looking. Kelly was leaving her car at her friend’s house so they could ride to the conference together. Besides, she’d told her friend she was doing better. Which she was. Most days. Especially since her appointment with the therapist. Sure enough, he’d diagnosed her with a moderate to severe case of depression. More severe now that Chase was refusing to give up his crumbling movie dreams and come home. The doctor had prescribed Prozac, which was supposed to help not only elevate her mood, but also cut her appetite. Kelly wasn’t sure if it was working yet, but she did feel a little better.

  Laurie live
d just a few miles away, and soon the two were hugging before getting into Laurie’s car. “I have a feeling about today,” Laurie told her as they climbed inside. “God’s up to something big.”

  Kelly hoped so, but she certainly didn’t feel it. She’d spent less than an hour talking to God the entire month of May, and now she felt like a hypocrite wasting a day at a Christian women’s conference when she could be home cleaning or reading to her girls.

  The event was in downtown San Jose at the HP Pavilion. Once they found a parking place and filed in with thousands of other women, Kelly’s doubts returned.

  “It’ll take a half hour to get out of here,” she told Laurie. “I mean, if something goes wrong with the girls.”

  “It’s raining outside.” Laurie put her arm around Kelly’s shoulders. “They’ll be inside watching movies and coloring all day. Nothing’s going to go wrong.”

  Kelly had to agree. The rainy weather did limit the possibility of injuries. But maybe that wasn’t why she felt uneasy. Maybe it was because Chase had flown down to LA that day and now he was meeting with his Hollywood friends and trying to figure out what to do next. He wanted nothing to do with Kelly’s more practical response, which was fine. He was bound to see soon that the optimism from his Hollywood friends wouldn’t pay their bills.

  All around them seats were filling up fast. “There have to be eight thousand people here.” Laurie leaned close, in awe over the gathering. “Can you imagine, this many women in one place praising God? Like a glimpse of heaven.”

  Kelly felt completely and utterly detached from the reality happening around her. What had happened that she wasn’t caught up in the excitement? Back in her Indonesian days, she would’ve loved nothing more than a day like this, surrounded by women worshiping the Creator. But here … she had no right to be excited about worship. She was at odds with her husband and she could barely get up each morning. What good would worship do except remind her of her failings?