Christy Miller Collection Vol 2 Part 6

Numbly, Christy made her way through the front door and past her parents, managing to mutter a few sentences about being tired. At last she stepped into her room and pressed the door closed, sealing herself in her private tomb.

She fell on the bed, grabbed Winnie the Pooh, and silently sobbed into his furry yellow body. When she came up for air, she realized that this was the stuffed animal Todd had bought her last summer at Disneyland. With a ferocious throw, Christy catapulted poor Pooh across her room, where he landed on a mound of dirty clothes.

Sitting up, still trembling and sniffling, Christy grabbed her pillow and hugged it close, wiping her tears on the pink-flowered pillowcase.

"He doesn't care about me. He never has. It's all a big lie, and I believed it," she told her soggy pillow. "He doesn't care about what's important to me or what really matters! No matter how much I want him to, it won't change anything. He doesn't love me at all!"

Bubbling to the top of her emotions' cauldron came an ugly truth. Christy didn't know if she was talking about G.o.d or Todd. Which one didn't care? Which one had stopped loving her? Both? Either? The two had been so closely intertwined in her life up to this point that it seemed difficult to think of one without thinking of the other.

"Okay," she coached herself calmly, "figure this out. You can do it. Come on. It's going to be okay. It's going to work out. It always does."

A wild burst of anguish pushed its way out of her throat, and she quickly pressed her mouth into the pillow and sobbed.

When the tremor pa.s.sed, Christy decided not to think about it anymore. She would go to bed, and she would choose to let all her feelings die. It was the only way for them to stop controlling her like this.

First she needed to do one thing. Still wobbly, she rose and slowly stepped over to her dresser. Lifting a Folgers coffee can from the corner of the dresser, she popped off the plastic lid and prepared to dump its contents into the trash can. Those dozen dried-up carnations, the very bouquet Todd had handed her last summer before kissing her for the first time, were as dead as she wanted her feelings to be. They were brown and withered and there was nothing lovely about them anymore. In fact, they were ugly-sad and ugly- and they needed to be thrown away.

She couldn't do it.

Instead, she removed the Forever ID bracelet from her wrist and buried it deep in the mound of stale carnation petals. With a snap, the plastic lid fit over the tomb of her dreams, and ceremoniously Christy tucked it into the deepest corner of her closet. She placed Pooh Bear on top to stand guard and stated solemnly, "Never again will I give my heart away so easily."

The next morning she felt exactly the same. Nothing had mellowed during her fitful night of half-sleep, half-senseless dreams.

Part of her felt stronger, though. The determination part. During the night she had pictured herself in her cheerleading outfit with Todd, Rick, and Renee watching her spring into the air and land with perfect precision. The ultimate cheerleader, that's what she was.

She would show all of them: Todd, Rick, Renee, her parents, Katie. She would prove that she was important and desirable.

For more than an hour, she lay in bed and let her searing thoughts burn into her emotions. She refused to feel sorry for this Jasmine girl. She refused to ever, ever get her hopes up with Todd again. He was a friend. Nothing more.

The longer she lingered in bed, the more time she had to form a plan. She needed to do something to make the hurting go away. It occurred to Christy that all wasn't lost with Rick. She hadn't said yes or no at the ice cream shop. She had, of course, been thinking no the whole time he was there, but Rick didn't know that.

Going to the prom with Rick was a good plan. It would certainly help the hurt she was feeling over Todd, and it probably wasn't too late to make it happen, if she went to work on it quickly.

That resolved, Christy allowed herself to make plans about cheerleading. Staring at the ceiling, she drew in a deep breath and determined she would make the cheerleading squad-period.

As far as her hopes in G.o.d and the way she had promised Him her whole heart last summer, well, she didn't want to think about that. It would be easier to figure out where G.o.d fit in her life after next weekend, when the tryouts and the prom were behind her. First things first.

Christy's mom knocked on her door and entered. "Do you realize what time it is?"

Christy glanced at her clock. "I was just going to get up."

"Do you want to go to the mall with us? I'm taking David to get a new pair of shoes. Dad ran over to the dairy for a few hours."

"No. I'll stay here. I've got a lot to do."

"Just don't waste the whole morning away, okay? And can you unload the dishwasher and put the towels in the dryer for me? They should be done in the washer in about ten minutes."

"Sure."

"Oh, and Katie called about eight o'clock. I told her you were still asleep and that you'd call her back later. She said something about not being surprised that you were still asleep after last night. What do you suppose she meant by that?"

Christy sat up in bed and stretched. "Todd and I saw her last night when we went for ice cream." Christy considered giving more details of why it was an exhausting experience, like mentioning that Rick was there as well, but she wasn't sure. It would be too complicated to explain. And since she wanted everything to be set up perfectly before she asked her parents about going to the prom with Rick, this wouldn't be a good time to launch a discussion that might end up needing a lot of explaining.

"Oh, well don't forget about the towels."

"I won't," Christy said as her mom exited, closing the door behind her.

As soon as her mom and David left, Christy called Katie. She told Katie, rather calmly, that Todd was taking another girl to his prom, so she was ready to move on and arrange things so she could go with Rick. They talked on the phone for almost two and a half hours, making elaborate prom plans-everything from how to smooth things over with Rick and present the idea to her parents to what she and Katie would wear and when they would do each other's nails.

With their plan of attack settled, Katie returned to a topic Christy had so cleverly skimmed over in the beginning of their conversation. "Are you going to write Todd a 'Dear John' letter or what?"

"No. What would I say? 'You're a jerk because you'd rather take this Jasmine girl to your prom instead of me'? Or, 'Sorry I'm not a very strong Christian, and Jasmine is. I suppose you spiritual giants need to stick together'?"

"You know what I can't figure out? How are they going to dance?"

"You got me. Maybe he's going to sit on her lap, and she'll wheel him around the floor. Or being such a gentleman, maybe he'll push her chair around in circles until she gets so dizzy that she sprays punch out her nostrils."

"Christy!" Katie acted shocked, but she laughed loudly. "That is so rude! What if you were her? Wouldn't you love it if a guy like Todd came into your life and took you to the prom?"

"Of course," Christy mumbled. "And I would have loved it if Todd had invited me. But he didn't. He invited her. And he seemed real happy about it. You should have seen his face, Katie, when he said her name-" Christy stopped midsentence when a thought came to her. "Oh, no. I can't believe it."

"What?"

"I just remembered something I said." Christy felt herself sink into an unwelcome depression.

"Well, what?"

"When we got back to my house, we were standing under the trellis, and I picked a flower and said, I bet you love jasmine too.' I meant the flower, the one I was holding for him to smell. But you should have seen his face! I can't believe I said that!"

"You didn't know her name was Jasmine."

"He's in love with her, Katie. I know he is."

"Oh, stop it. You know who you remind me of?" Katie went on before Christy had a chance to answer. "You sound like Renee in English last week when she was moaning over how Rick turned down her invitation to the prom. Only she was moaning over you being the 'other woman'!"

"She was?" Christy felt a strange sense of exhilaration.

"Don't let it go to your head. You have a better relations.h.i.+p with Rick than any other girl I know. I don't think you should mess that up. My advice is give Todd a rest, and tomorrow at church we'll work out all the prom plans with Rick and Lance. You'll see. Everything will be fine." Then Katie added exuberantly, "This week is going to be a week to remember."

Oh great! Christy thought. Just what I need-a week to remember.

Then, because Christy heard her mom's car pull up in the driveway, she said, "I've got to go, Katie. My mom and David just got home."

"I'll see you tomorrow in the toddler Sunday school cla.s.s. Don't forget."

"I won't. Why do you keep reminding me?"

"Because I know you, and when you get too much on your mind, you tend to forget some of the more obvious things in life."

"I do not," Christy protested.

Just then Mom walked in the front door with two shopping bags in her arms. She took one look at Christy lounging on the couch, still wearing her pajamas, and said, "Did you put the towels in the dryer?"

Christy closed her eyes and made a pained expression to demonstrate she'd forgotten. One of her mom's major pet peeves was towels that smelled mildewy because they'd sat too long in the was.h.i.+ng machine out in the garage.

"How can you deny that?" Katie continued, apparently unaware of the moment of truth between Christy and her mom. "You know you forget things, Christy. Admit it."

"Okay, okay! You're right. I admit it. I've gotta go now, Katie. Bye." She hung up the phone and sprang from the couch. "I'll do it right now, Mom."

"Don't bother." Mom put down the shopping bags and hustled toward the garage. "I'm going to run them through a second rinse." She was shaking her head as she walked away. At the door that led into the garage, Mom stopped, and turning with her hand on her hip, said, "I don't understand, Christina Juliet Miller, how you can manage to have such a selective memory."

Before Christy could defend herself, her mom said, "Would you please get yourself dressed now and empty the dishwasher?"

"Okay." Christy couldn't stand moments like this when her parents were disappointed with her. As a child she rarely disobeyed them outwardly. But she knew she often disappointed them, like now. And this feeling in the pit of her empty stomach was worse than any punishment she ever could have received for disobedience.

The worst part of her realization was that this was not a good step in paving the way with her parents before convincing them that she should go to the prom.

Hurrying to her room, Christy dressed, made her bed, picked up her dirty clothes, and then unloaded the dishwasher. She also made peanut b.u.t.ter sandwiches for herself, her mom, and David without being asked. Then she folded the towels after they'd finally tumbled dry.

Even though Christy knew her mom wasn't expecting her to do all these things to make up for forgetting earlier, it was the least she could do. Her mom worked part time at a real estate office, and that made the weekends anything but restful for her because so many household ch.o.r.es had to wait until Sat.u.r.day to be done.

One lesson her parents had tried to get across to her over and over was that if she wanted more privileges and freedom as she got older, it was up to her to show them that she was responsible. She knew that was part of their tactic in making her pay for half of her cheerleading expenses. And she had every reason to believe it would be a huge factor in their decision about letting her go to the prom with Rick. She had to do everything she could to prove to her parents that she was responsible.

Katie called again that afternoon, but Christy told her she couldn't talk because she was about to mop the kitchen floor.

"Mop the kitchen floor?"

"Yes," Christy said firmly, "mop the kitchen floor. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

When Christy met Katie in the toddler Sunday school cla.s.s the next morning, Katie was ready to put their prom plan into action.

"Did it work?" Katie asked, her green eyes full of sparkles. "Did you mop your way to a yes from your parents?"

Christy opened her mouth to answer, but before any words came out, they were interrupted by a circ.u.mstance that happened to have the feeling of a miracle about it. However, since Christy wasn't exactly on speaking terms with G.o.d at the moment, she refused to acknowledge it as such.

Mrs. Johnson, one of the mothers, stepped up to Christy with her three-year-old daughter, Ashley, in her arms.

"My daughter has talked about you all week long," Mrs. Johnson said.

Ashley played shy on her mommy's shoulder. Christy gave her a grin and reached out for her. Ashley gladly hopped into Christy's open arms.

"Look," the little cutie said, holding up a Band-Aid-wrapped finger. "I got an owie."

"She stuck her finger in her brother's pencil sharpener," Mrs. Johnson said.

"Aw." Christy kissed it. "All better?"

Ashley nodded, her blond ponytail bobbing up and down.

"I was wondering, Christy, if you'd be available to babysit for me sometime?" Mrs. Johnson asked.

"Sure."

"Oh, good. We can talk about it some more later, but I'm going to need a full-time babysitter during the summer. If that might work out for you, let me know. Ashley adores you."

Mrs. Johnson left, and Ashley scooted down to make herself at home with two little boys in the play kitchen.

Had to be a coincidence, Christy thought. Or maybe my mom knows her and told her I needed a job to pay for cheerleading.

The next hour and a half zoomed by with little-kid activities scurrying all around Christy. The room full of toddlers demanded her complete attention, and she and Katie barely talked to each other.

One little boy sat by himself most of the morning. He wore gla.s.ses strapped over ears that were too big for the rest of his head. The combination of his ears, the gla.s.ses, and the strap made him look peculiar.

He finally joined the other kids toward the end of cla.s.s, when paper and crayons were pa.s.sed out.

"You made a funny picture," another boy said when the little guy in gla.s.ses held up his work.

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did! It's funny."

The boy burst into tears and, poor thing, couldn't get to his eyes because of the strapped-on gla.s.ses.

Christy and Katie both went immediately to the scene since the teacher had her hands full with a wildly kicking toddler in the corner.

"What's the problem here?" Katie asked firmly.

"He made fun of what I made," the wounded boy cried.

Sober-faced and appearing innocent, the other child explained, "I only said it was funny because it is."

"But you made fun of what he worked hard to make." Katie lifted the crying boy while Christy went for a tissue. "Tell him you're sorry."

"No."

"You need to tell him you're sorry."

The boy froze, defiant and determined not to say the words.

Katie forced the issue by using a stern voice and an angry look. "You say you're sorry. Now!"

"Sorry." A peep from a chick would have come out louder.

Katie seemed satisfied that justice was served, and she left the coloring table because the first parents were arriving to pick up their children.

Christy, about to walk away, heard the defiant apologizer say in a low voice, "You have funny ears and a funny face!"

The memory of Friday night with Todd rushed upon her. Christy spun around and looked sternly at the child. In a quiet, firm voice, she said, "Don't you ever make fun of what G.o.d made. Do you understand me? G.o.d made that little boy. Don't you dare make fun of him!"