ChrystalHouston.com

Chapter 1

“I wish I weren’t graduating next month. We’d have so much fun together this fall!” my cousin, Cate, exclaimed, hugging me goodbye. “Please drive safe, and wear your seat belts and all that on the way home.”

“Yes, mother.” I returned her hug and then tossed my purse through the open window of a purple Sunfire parked on the street in front of Cate’s stately dorm. It was a Sunday afternoon in mid-April, a beautiful time to be on the Midwest Christian University campus. The grass and trees were vibrantly green against the old, red-brick academic buildings. Pink and yellow tulips in front of the MCU sign on the corner of 16th and Carbsin Avenue waved a cheerful hello to passersby. I sighed contentedly and grinned. In just a few months, this will be my school!

“We’d better get going, Jen,” said Christine, my roommate-to-be. “It’s a long way home and I don’t want to drive through Omaha in the dark.” She hugged Cate goodbye. “Thanks again for hosting us this weekend. It’s been awesome!”

“As if I’d let you guys stay with anyone else. Now you girls better behave when you get back here in the fall. Remember Jenize, you’ve got a family reputation to uphold.”

“Right. I promise,” I laughed. “No wild parties.” We turned to get into Christine’s car when Cate noticed someone across the street and chuckled.

“Eeww, Neal grew his hair out. It’s like he’s finally gone through puberty. Somebody get that boy a comb and a razor!” We followed her gaze to a young man about to enter Dartan Hall, the men’s dorm across the street.

His hair was lustrous and dark, falling almost to his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends. A full, thick goatee engulfed the majority of his slender face. He looked the part of a college guy in a well-worn pair of jeans, a white tee shirt, and sneakers, with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Just before he went into the dorm, he half turned, perhaps hearing Cate’s laughter, and looked at us briefly.

I’d grown up going to church all my life. I’m a firm believer in God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit, but I had never felt all three of them roar at me at once like I did that day.

I remember the dark intensity of his eyes, which rested on us for a fraction of a second that felt like an eternity to my soul. He was so beautiful. A life with him flashed before my eyes, full of laughter and romance, children and adventures and weddings and rocking chairs.

He went inside and I breathed again, my momentary clairvoyance broken by his departure.

“Who, uh, was that?” I tried hard to sound nonchalant. Cate and Christine both looked at me a little strangely, perhaps noting that I was suddenly pale-faced and sweating.

“Neal Baker. He’s a freshman, from Illinois. He’s a nice guy, though he’s about the biggest nerd I’ve ever met.” Cate cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows. “He’s in all the school plays.” She knew my weakness.

A theater nerd! My hands started to shake. I crossed my arms so the girls wouldn’t notice. “Oh, is that so,” I said with feigned calm. As an avid devotee of the arts myself, a man who can sing, act, and write poetry could have me wash his shoes with my lolling tongue if he so desired.

“And is he, uh, seeing anyone?” I finally blurted out, unable to find the perfect subtle way of finding out this vital information without giving myself away.

“He’s as single as they come!” Cate laughed. “We’re in student government together. I’ve got his number on the calling list if you want it…” she started back toward the dorm, smiling mischievously.

“No! No,” I said a little too loudly, making Christine jump. I grabbed Cate’s arm, pulling her back. “Like I’m going to call some guy I don’t know.” But the idea did tempt me.

Student government! Oi. Why this one, God?

“Jenize,” Christine pleaded, “let’s go already.” We hugged Cate goodbye one more time and got in the car. As we drove down the street I stared at Dartan Hall wondering which one of the windows was his room. I thought of him looking down from a window watching us drive away, perhaps being as struck by me as I was by him. My heart was racing.

“I just can’t wait!” Christine bubbled as she pulled away from campus and drove through the tiny dot on the map that was Belleweather, Nebraska. Picket fences and large, historic homes with porch swings lined the streets of the idyllic hamlet. “It’s going to be so great when we’re finally here and done with high school.”

“Yeah, me too,” I murmured, gazing out the window, envisioning Neal and I walking arm in arm down the brick streets.

“So, does your boyfriend mind that you’re not going to stay in Iowa for college?”

“Huh?” Her question pulled me back to reality. “Oh, you mean Jackson.”

“Who did you think I meant?”

“Um, nobody. Right, Jackson. Well, he’s leaving for Nashville right after graduation anyway, so he can’t be upset with me leaving for Nebraska.”

“What’s he doing in Nashville?” Christine asked, scrunching her brow.

“His dad lives there and he’s going to stay with him for awhile. Jax is a really talented guitarist, you know. He’s hoping to break into the music scene eventually.”

“That’ll be hard, for you guys to be so far apart, won’t it?”

I considered her question, sucking on my lower lip. My sudden encounter with Neal a few minutes before swirled some thoughts around my head I’d been working on for awhile. Jax was a good friend, and rather attractive, too. We had been dating for most of our senior year, and though I liked him, I had known all along that there was something major missing in our relationship: he wasn’t a Christian. More than that, he refused to even come to occasional youth group activities with me. “Actually I think it’s time for us to see other people.”

Christine looked over at me in surprise, but didn’t ask for specifics. “Well, then, we’ll both be single when we get to campus. Look out, men of MCU!” She laughed. “I can’t wait.”

I smiled, knowing the reason for her impatience. I had grown up going to church with Christine, and while we had never been friends exactly, I did know about her parents strict rules for their only daughter: Christine hadn’t been allowed to date at all in high school. On the trip back to our home in Des Moines as we sang along to the radio and chatted about our plans for the future, my thoughts kept going back to Neal. “He does all the school plays…” I dreamed longingly of all the productions we’d be in together. I’d be Beatrice to his Benedict, Juliet to his Romeo. I had been bitten by the theater bug in high school, and though I wasn’t very good—as evidenced by the number of roles I’d been passed over for—I had a burning passion for the stage. I knew that someday I would be standing in front of an audience, basking in their adoration and applause. That mental picture was quickly modified to include a leading man, dark-haired and gorgeous, sharing the spotlight with me as we clasped hands and took our bows.

There was just one thing standing between me and the realization of this blissful dream: Jackson. I called him as soon as I got home.

“Hey! How was your campus visit?”

“Great. It was really…great. Listen, Jax, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Uh-oh, am I in trouble? This sounds serious.”

“No, and yes, I guess it’s serious.” I cleared my throat and took a deep breath, praying for the words. “The thing is, I don’t think we should date anymore.”

“Wait, you’re dumping me? What happened? I haven’t even seen you in like four days. What did I do?”

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s totally not your fault or anything. It’s just that, I’ve been doing some thinking this weekend,” most of it about Neal, “and I just feel like we should end things as friends now. Besides, you’re leaving in a few weeks, and I’ll be off to MCU at the end of the summer. We both know this couldn’t really go anywhere.”

“What do you mean? I thought we agreed to try long distance. I’m like suddenly not good enough for you?”

I sighed. “Oh Jax, it’s not that at all. It’s just…in a serious relationship, it’s really important to me to be with a guy who shares my faith. You don’t.” I winced, aware that my comment sounded harsh. I continued quickly. “I really like you. I mean, what’s not to like? You’re great. You’re one of my best friends. But I think that’s all we could ever be. I’m sorry.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I get it,” he said softly. “Well, I hope you find a guy like that when you get to college.”

I already have… “Thanks. And I hope you make it big in Nashville. You’re an awesome musician. I just know you’re going to get noticed. You’ll be great.”

He half-chuckled. “Well then, when I’m rich and famous, you’re going to be sorry you dumped me, huh.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I will. So, are we still friends?”

“I guess so. Take care, Jeni. See you at school.”

I felt a little guilty when I hung up the phone, but I knew I’d done the right thing. I would miss Jackson, but I had thoughts of Neal to keep me company.

Chapter 2

I had packed all that would fit into the back of my parents’ station wagon on the day of my departure for Midwest Christian University. Boxes of books, clothes, sheets and blankets, computer, various other personal items, and my favorite pink, comfy chair for reading fit nicely, leaving just enough room for me in the backseat. I was getting myself arranged in the car when one of my younger brothers showed up.

“Where are we supposed to sit?” asked Mitch.

“What do you mean? You’re not going.”

“Heck yes I am! When else am I going to see the inside of a girls dorm?” Ah, yes, the hormones were kicking in in his 15-year-old self. Lovely. “You’d better move all this crap. Kyle’s coming, too.”

“What? There’s not room for both of you. There’s not room for one of you! No. You’re not coming.”

My mother walked over to the car at that moment. “What do you mean they’re not coming? Don’t you want their help carrying it all into the dorm?”

I pouted but acknowledged that she had a point. They would be useful, though I loathed the idea of riding four hours crammed into the backseat with two 15-year olds who would adequately fill the space without me—plus all my stuff. This didn’t sound like an appropriate way to start my fabulous new college life.

“Mitch! Kyle! Get over here and help me!” Dad yelled from the front door of the house. He was wrestling with my mattress, trying to prevent Mom’s cats from escaping. Bootsy shot out the door, only to be grabbed roughly by Kyle after three seconds of freedom and flung back into the house.

“Dad, what are you doing?” I called from the car. “They’ve got beds there, you know. I don’t need to bring one.”

“We’re bringing YOUR bed,” he said in the ‘there will be no questions or arguments about this’ tone I was so familiar with.

As Mitch and Kyle helped him lift the twin mattress onto the roof of the station wagon, I started to panic. How was this going to look—pulling up to the dorm in a car full of stuff and people, with a mattress bungee-corded to the top?

Daddy!” I wailed. “Please, this is ridiculous! The beds there are fine. Why do we need to bring mine?”

“You need a good mattress,” he said, tossing a rope over the top of the car to Mitch who wasn’t paying attention. It whipped him in the eye.

“Hey! That hurt!” he said, his voice cracking. It made me feel a little better.

My father is fanatical about sleep. My brothers and I are the only ones that I know that through high school have had not a curfew but a bedtime. That’s right, light’s out by 10:30, or else. Dad has always felt that the key to health, happiness, and success in life is good sleep. I knew my complaints were in vain, but I had to try.

“Dad, I’m sure the mattresses there are fine…”

“They’re probably old and worn and full of mold.” Dad quickly tied a few more knots. “You’d probably get sick from sleeping on them. If you’re going to do well in school, you need good sleep.” This was said with absolute finality.

He tugged a rope to make sure it was secure, then nodded and grunted his approval. I, too, regarded his handiwork. The mattress hung over the front windshield by several inches, strapped down with bright yellow nylon rope running over the hood of the car.

Great! All we need is Granny on a rocker on top. I’ll be known forever as Jeni Clampet. The weird mattress girl. I felt like crying. Mitch and Kyle were rearranging my belongings, none too gently. My favorite chair was removed to make room for the twins. “We’ll bring it to you when we come visit,” Mom promised.

When we got everything crammed in, Mitch and Kyle were seated so close together they looked conjoined. The only way I’d fit was on their laps.

“There’s room up here,” Mom volunteered from the front seat. “Why don’t you sit in the middle?” I rolled my eyes, reminding myself that soon I might be missing these people and crawled across the driver’s seat to straddle the middle hump, knees against the dash board.

Dad poked his head into the car as I got settled. “Did you go to the bathroom?” he asked me.

How old am I? “Yes, Dad,” I sighed.

“Do you have your contact case and your glasses?”

“Yes. I have everything.”

“Do you have the money I gave you? Where’s your purse? Do you have your cell phone?”

“Dad, please! I have everything and I don’t have to pee! Can we just go?”

He looked a little hurt, but mostly just cross. He shut the door heavily and walked back to the house to lock up.

My mom put her arm around me. “He’s just showing you that he cares, honey. He hates that you’re going so far away to college, you know. His baby girl is all grown up,” she said with a teary sniff, squeezing me tightly. Rather than feel affected by this show of emotion, I felt annoyed, and guilty about what a jerk I was being.

“Yeah, I know,” I muttered.

Finally we were all in the car and rolling slowly down I-80. It was a windy day, and despite the mattress being securely knotted on all sides, we still had to go no more than 50 mph the whole way in order not to achieve lift-off. The 250-mile trip ordinarily took four hours. That day it took six.

I tried to pass the time reading, but gave up when Mitch and Kyle’s idea of road-trip fun (“the punching game,” burping contests, and “Whimper-fest”—a test of manly fortitude that involved having one’s leg hair yanked out without making a sound) got too noisy.

“Would you two settle down back there!” Mom shouted, mostly in my ear. She tried to reach back to slap whichever twin was in range, but only managed to elbow me in the eye.

“Mom! Sheesh!”

“Sorry dear,” she said. “Boys, I mean it!” she bellowed in my ear once more.

Kyle had Mitch’s blond head in a secure lock, and Mitch was attempting to give Kyle a rub burn on his arm. “Uncle! Uncle!” Mitch gasped. Kyle let him go, punching him in the thigh for good measure.

“So, Jeni Jen Jen,” Mom said at a more normal decibel, “what are you most looking forward to about college?”

Getting away from the terror twins? Snogging with Neal backstage? Neither of these seemed like appropriate responses.

“Um, classes and doing theater, I guess,” I said lamely, short of breath at the thought of how soon I might be seeing Neal again.

“Maybe you shouldn’t do a play right off,” said Dad. “You know, make sure you can handle the homework first.”

“Yeah, I’ll consider that,” were the words to come out of my mouth, though there’s no way I’m not going out for any play Neal is going to be in were the words in my heart.

***

“We’re here,” said Dad, turning onto Trinity Drive and into the lot next to my new home in McGarther Hall. Finally arriving would have been a thrill except for the knowledge that we looked like the Beverly Hillbillies in our bedding-laden equipage.

Please, God, just let us get it all unloaded before anyone notices us…

No such luck. Before we even had all the doors open, several guys in red shirts featuring the Midwest soccer logo appeared.

“Hi! Welcome to MCU,” said one, a stout, shaved-headed young man with sparkling blue eyes. “I’m John Duncan. Do you folks need any help carrying things into the dorm?”

“Yes thank you, that would be very nice,” said my mother getting out of the car. “Jenize, what’s your room number?”

“I’m on the top floor, room 434,” I said from inside the car, smiling in a way that I hoped was so stunning they wouldn’t think less of me for having twin weirdoes and a mattress-mobile.

“Right, no problem. C’mon boys.” John and the others opened the back hatch and filled their arms with all they could carry, heading for the hall.

Mitch and Kyle, supposedly along to help me unload had been inspired by John and his do-gooding teammates—they were offering to help the girl one car over to unload her stuff.

“Honey, we’ve got to potty. We’re going to find a bathroom,” said Mom. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.” She and Dad walked toward the dorm.

“But what about the mattress!” I whined. Rolling my eyes and sighing with frustration, I crawled into the backseat and started grabbing up my loose belongings.

“Hi,” said a male voice behind me. “Can I do anything to help?”

I pulled my head out of the car, arms full of clothing that had spilled from a box, and found myself face-to-face with the man of my dreams.

“Neal!” There he was, so close I could smell his cologne. My stomach jumped into my mouth. He had cut his hair short and shaved his goatee, revealing a strong jaw and full lips.

“Uh, have we met?” He furrowed his brow and studied my face.

“Yes, uh, well not exactly. I’m Cate Allen’s, uh, she’s my cousin…and I just, know who you are.”

“Hm, ok.” He grinned, his dark, long-lashed eyes making me tremble inwardly. “And your name is…Cate’s cousin?”

“No, it’s Jen, well Jenize, McCaslin. But most people call me Jen, or Jeni.”

“But we just call her Jeez!” said Mitch, appearing out of nowhere. I hate it when they call me that. The way they say it, it rhymes with cheese.

“Who are you?” Kyle asked Neal suspiciously. I was suddenly flanked by irritating younger brothers.

“Neal Baker. I was just volunteering my services. I’m in student government, and we’re all helping the new students get settled in.”

Rats, I thought maybe you were waiting around looking for me…still he did choose me to assist, out of the lot full of girls’ vehicles to unload.

“Between us and the soccer dudes, I think we’ve got it,” said Kyle. “Jeez, nice underwear,” he added, grabbing a pair of bright pink panties off the top of the pile of laundry in my arms and shooting it sling-shot style at Mitch.

“Gross!” Mitch shouted, dodging the lingerie missile. They raced off, Mitch tackling Kyle in the open field near the parking lot.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that those you most want to impress are the ones you will inevitably look stupidest in front of.

I was so embarrassed I could hardly raise my eyes to Neal’s face. When I did meet his gaze, he was chewing his lower lip, clearly trying to repress laughter. A small snort escaped him, but he otherwise managed to hold it in.

“My brothers,” I said weakly. He nodded his head.

“I figured.”

John and the other soccer players returned for the next load. “Here, let me help you guys,” said Neal, starting to untie the cord holding the mattress. “You know, you didn’t have to bring a mattress,” he said over his shoulder to me. “We’ve got beds here.”

“Yeah, I know, I just couldn’t convince my dad of it.” I wanted to bury my face in my armload of laundry and cry with mortification.

“I’m just going to take these in, then,” I said, backing away. I stopped to pick up my airborne underwear and quickly got inside, hoping to avoid any further embarrassment.

When I arrived at my new room, Christine was already there and pretty much completely unpacked. “Hey, what took you so long? I expected you hours ago.”

“Don’t ask.” I flopped down in the denim, overstuffed chair next to her bed, clothes in my lap.

“Are you ok?”

“Um, I’ve just been humiliated in front of the love of my life, my brothers are morons, and…” I said, feeling on the verge of tears, “I really have to pee.”

“Bathrooom’s down the hall. Love of your life?”

“I’ll tell you later.” I figured that this was not the time to spill the beans about my divinely influenced romantic obsession.

I dropped my bundle of clothes into the top drawer of the dresser on what was clearly meant to be my side of the room. Christine, fully unpacked, had already decorated her side of the room.

I found the bathroom, relieved my bladder, and took a moment to evaluate my appearance in the large mirror over the sink. My blond, curly locks were in perpetual disarray, nothing new there. I wetted my hands and tried to smooth down the frizz, redoing my pony tail. Checking myself out, I wondered if Neal had noticed my good features, like my high cheek bones and deep blue eyes.

“Hi, Neal,” I said coquettishly to my reflection, sotto voce. “You’re gorgeous and I love you. Please pay no attention to my brothers. As you can tell, they were adopted, poor dears. Total charity case, obviously.”

The sunburn had acquired earlier in the summer had faded, leaving a slight tan and a few freckles on my face. My previously flushed-with-embarrassment cheeks had returned to a normal shade, however, remembering my idiot brothers, the mattress, and the panties caused them to flame pink again.

Someone entered the bathroom just then. I felt like ducking back into a stall, but instead I took a deep breath, said a quick prayer that no other humiliation might befall me, and headed back to my room.

A gorgeous girl sporting dreadlocks and a white polo shirt with a MCU logo stopped me in the hall.

“Hi, are you…” she consulted a clip board. “Jenize McCaslin?”

“Yes, I am, but you can call me Jeni.” I shook her outstretched hand. She had a friendly and confident smile that made me feel a little calmer.

“Hi, I’m Cleo. I’m the RA for this wing. Welcome to MCU.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you having any difficulty getting settled in?”

I thought of my brothers. “No, no, it’s all going fine,” I lied.

“Great! Well, I hope you’ll be very happy here. Listen, we’re going to have a little welcome to the wing party tonight at curfew, just out in the hallway here. Kind of a get-to-know-ya, here are the rules sort of thing, but there’ll be food, so you’ll want to come. Well, it’s mandatory, so you’ll have to come. So, I’ll see you then, okay?”

“Okay, see you later.”

“And let me know if you need anything. My room is next door to yours.”

Thanks,” I said, moving down the hall, which was crowed with people hauling furniture and boxes. Someone bumped into me forcefully, knocking me into a wall.

“Jeez, get out of the way!” Kyle said with a snicker, carrying a box toward my room, followed close behind by Mitch, also toting a crate of my belongings.

“Listen up, you two!” I began, preparing to really give them a piece of my mind as soon as I got out of the hallway. “I really hate…” I stopped abruptly when I entered the room. Neal was there arranging my mattress with my dad. He turned to look at me, presumably because I had been shouting. He smiled and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“I really hate,” I started again at a normal volume and with sugarcoating on my voice, “that you two won’t be staying today, and that it might be months and months until I see you again.” Mitch and Kyle looked confused and incredulous, too thick to understand my sarcasm.

“I was right about the bed.” This from my father, who had pulled the mattress off of the twin frame in my room and replaced it with the one we’d brought. The discarded mattress looked perfectly fine to me, but I was not about to argue this point with my father.

Glancing over at my mattress, I saw something I hadn’t noticed before. I quarter-sized spot of dark red right in the center. Oh no, is that?...Panicking, I launched myself onto the bed in what I hoped was a casual gesture, but I landed rather hard.

“Yep, feels great to have my own bed!” I said too brightly. Please Lord, let Neal have not noticed the spot! Ugh, how gross am I?

John entered the room, carrying a laundry basket full of hangers with a stuffed pig on top. “I think this is the last of it,” he said, putting the basket on the floor near the closet.

“This is amazing!” said Mom. “We didn’t have to carry a thing! They did it all. Honey, you should tip them.” My dad quickly reached for his wallet.

“No, no that’s alright,” said Neal. “We’re glad to help out. John, c’mon, let’s get back out there.”

As he headed out the door, I noted Neal’s student government tee-shirt. It read “How’s my serving?” on the back. I smiled and swooned a little.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Neal said, turning in the doorway. “Jen, Christine, do you two want to go to a devotional tonight? We’re having a welcome devo at 9 o’clock in the courtyard.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Christine.

“I’ll be there!” I added.

When Neal left the room, I gave a sigh of relief and got up off my spotted mattress. I set about unpacking, looking for the box with my sheets in it first.

Mitch and Kyle had disappeared again, not that I missed them. My mother chatted with Christine while I made up my bed. Dad stood silently in the corner, inspecting the closet critically.

“And have you picked a major yet?” Mom asked Christine.

“Well, it’ll probably be music ed, but I’m not sure.” Christine sang like an angel and was at MCU on a hefty choral scholarship.

“Isn’t that nice. And are your parents still around, or have they already headed back to Des Moines?”

At that moment, Christine’s parents entered the room. “Marsha, Frank!” my mother exclaimed as if it had been years rather than days since she had last seen them.

“Hello, Diane,” said Marsha, entering the room.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Mom gushed. “I feel like I’m going off to college myself…” she and Marsha continued animatedly about their own college days.

Christine came over to the closet to help me hang my clothes while our fathers went to examine the rest of the building for structural soundness.

“Is this all you brought?” Christine asked when the last box was empty.

“Um, yeah.” I noticed the disparity between our two sides of the closet: hers bulged with belongings. My side looked quite spacious by comparison. “If you want, you can keep some of your stuff on my side. I’ve got plenty of room.”

“Thanks!” Christine grabbed an armload from her side to add to mine. “Aren’t you excited to finally be here? I feel like my life is beginning.”

“I know what you mean. I can’t wait for our families to leave,” I added, hoping my mom wouldn’t hear. I needn’t have worried about her overhearing my ungracious comment, as her conversation with Marsha had become heated.

“I think it would fit fine right here, especially if we lofted one of the beds,” my mom was saying.

“No, Diane, it wouldn’t,” countered Marsha with forced calm. “There’s not enough room in here for a computer desk.”

“But if we lofted a bed, there would be room.”

Marsha suddenly looked pale and sat down on the edge of Christine’s bed, putting a hand over her eyes.

“Mom, are you ok?” Christine asked, crossing the room toward her.

“I’m fine, honey.” But she didn’t look fine. I noticed dark circles beneath her eyes, stark against her pale skin. “It’s just been a long day and I’ve got a headache. I felt a little faint just now.”

“Here Mom, lay down.” Christine helped her mother to recline across the bed.

“I’m sorry to upset you, Marsha,” said my mother. “I guess we’ll just leave it up to the girls. After all, it is their room. Can I get you anything?”

“No, no, I’m fine, really,” said Marsha.

Kyle and Mitch reentered the room noisily. “There are some HOT honeys in this place,” said Mitch.

“Yeah, mom, I totally want to go to MCU,” said Kyle. “Can I graduate early?”

Mitch took a scrap of pink paper out of his pocket and kissed it. “I’m calling Tasha as soon as I get home,” he said, doing a little love dance.

“Did you tell Tasha that you were in high school?” I asked, wondering what kind of desperate loser this girl was to give my brother her number.

“Heck no! She thought I was with the soccer team. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by telling her she was wrong.”

“Yes, well, I think it’s time we got on the road,” said my mother, looking annoyed with her sons. “Come on you two. Hug your sister and let’s get going.”

Mitch and Kyle rushed toward me, shouting “Jeez sandwich!” in unison.

“Goodbye, Sis,” said Kyle, crushing me with his embrace. “We’ll be back to visit real soon!”

“Would you get off?!” I yelled. I may be older, but my brothers each outweigh me by at least 50 pounds. I was getting bruises from their goodbyes. They let go.

“Race you to the car,” Mitch said, shoving Kyle to get a head start. They tore off down the hall. “See you, Christine! You look hot in that top!” one of them hollered as they sped out of the wing, the door slamming behind them.

“Slow down, you knuckleheads!” Dad bellowed, reentering the room with Frank.

“Honey, are you taking a nap?” Frank asked. Marsha sat up.

“I just needed a break,” she said brightly. “The McCaslins were just getting ready to leave.”

“Well, we’ll see you back in Des Moines, then,” said Frank, shaking hands with my dad.

“See you there. Have a good trip,” said Dad.

I walked my parents back out to the car, grateful that they were ready to leave so soon. Mitch and Kyle were in the back seat playing with their PSPs, oblivious to our presence.

“Now Jen, Frank and I were discussing it, and if there’s a tornado, you should go to the laundry room in the basement. That’ll be the safest place in the building,” Dad said gruffly.

“Thanks, Dad, I will,” I said, hugging him. I know safety-speak is his main love-language. “I love you, too.”

I pulled away and hugged my mother, who had tears building in her eyes. “Take care, baby girl. Study hard and have a wonderful time.” She hugged me tightly. “And if you’re not happy here, just let us know. We’ll be right back to pick you up.”

“Thanks, Mommy. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I was surprised to find myself a little choked up. “Have a good trip home.”

I stood and watched as they all got back in the car and pulled away before reentering the dorm. Christine’s parents had also left by the time I got back to the room. Christine was arranging her shoe collection, grouping them by function and color in the bottom of her closet: dress shoes, casual shoes, sneakers, special purpose shoes (she actually had her own pair of pink bowling shoes—not that she was a big bowler, but she didn’t want to leave anything up to chance when it came to footwear), and flip-flops. She had about 30 pairs of flip-flops in every color and style, which she tossed into a closet drawer.

The sad thing about this glorious shoe collection was that it would do me no good. Her feet were a full size bigger than mine.

“Hey,” I said. “They’re finally gone.”

“I know, isn’t it great?” She put away the final pair of shoes and looked at me expectantly. “OK, now tell me about the ‘love of your life’? One of the guys helping you unload, right?”

I didn’t really want to tell her about Neal, not until there was something to tell. But I also knew it would be futile to try to conceal a crush of this magnitude from the girl I’d be sharing such tight quarters with. I decided to divulge, in the hope that it would be a good act of roommate bonding.

“Neal Baker,” I said, cherishing the feel of his name on my lips.

“Which one was he? One of the soccer players?”

“No, he was the really handsome one, in the glasses, with the dark hair. The one in the orange, student government tee shirt.”

“The nerdy one?” Christine wrinkled her nose, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, Jenize, we have got to work on your taste in men. Now that bald soccer player with all the muscles, he’s worth your time.”

“I happen to be attracted to sensitive men of intelligence,” I said loftily.

Chapter 3

“Seriously, Christine, you look fine!” Christine was examining herself in the long mirror on the back of our room’s door while I waited impatiently. “It’s just a devo, not a fashion show.”

“I just want to make a good impression. Besides, who are you to judge? You changed three times, too.” She flipped her long, blond hair and twirled around to examine herself from the opposite side. “Do these jeans make my butt look big?”

“Honey, a microscope couldn’t make your butt look big. Your jeans are fine. Let’s go already.” If we get there early, maybe I can find a seat next to Neal…

She sighed and turned away from the mirror. “I guess I’m ready. But listen, Jenize. I don’t know anybody else here. Don’t ditch me when we get there, okay?”

“Promise.”

We left the dorm and walked across campus to the courtyard outside the Spiritual Life Center where we joined the already congregating crowd. All around us, people were hugging and talking, catching up after the summer apart. The freshmen were easy to spot: we were the ones looking nervous, standing on the edges of the crowd trying to look interesting.

“Oh, hey, I know them!” Christine said, pointing at some girls on the other side of the crowd. “I met them at a youth rally last winter.” The girls saw Christine and waved to her, smiling.  “I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder, already pressing through the crowd.

“Okay.” So much for sticking together…I tried to look nonchalant as I scanned the crowd for Neal. He had invited us, so surely he would be there, right? There were at least 300 people milling about in the courtyard in the near darkness. I gave up looking and decided to make an effort to be outgoing. I turned to a plump girl with a pleasant smile and short brown curls who was standing nearby.

“Hi. I’m Jenize.”

“So nice to meet you. I’m Dawn. Dawn Parsons. Is this your first Midwest devo?”

“Yes. You?”

“No, I’ve been here a semester already. Came in the spring. It’s really good to be back, though. I’ve missed this place.”

Someone started a song, interrupting our conversation. It was a jubilant praise song that got everyone clapping their hands and singly loudly with joyful abandon. A slightly taller and younger copy of Dawn joined us. Dawn mouthed to me, “my sister, Marie,” gesturing to the newcomer.

“Hi, Marie,” I mouthed back. Marie smiled at me, revealing an adorable gap between her two front teeth.

The singing was spirit-filled and energizing. It felt so wonderful to be gathered with so many other young believers in praise. Though I hardly knew anyone, I started to feel that I was among family. I sang out loudly, praising my maker under the stars.

Thank you for bringing me to this place, I breathed heavenward.

After several more songs, someone got up to pray. From my vantage point seated toward the back I couldn’t see the speaker, but I quickly identified the voice. It was Neal. My heart leapt: a nerdy theater buff that is also a spiritual leader—could he be more perfect? I felt a thrill, knowing with more certainty than before that this was the man God had prepared for me. Thank you, God, for Neal! I prayed, giddily.

“Awesome God,” Neal began, his theater-trained voice carrying above the crowd, “we come before you humbled in worship. Lord, we praise you and we give you all glory. We thank you for calling us your children and for loving us.” His voice was rich and deep and full of emotion as he prayed.

I am SO in love with this man…

“Lord, we ask your blessing on this school year. We ask that you bless us with strong relationships with you and with each other. Bring us near to you and bless us with your love. Help us to know your love through the family you’ve assembled here.”

Oh Lord, I’d like to feel your love, through one particular member of this family…

“Lord, we dedicate this year to you. We pray that it would be a year of growth. We pray that you would equip us for your work through our classes and our other experiences here. Lord, most of all we thank you for Jesus. It is through him that we can approach your throne with confidence, and it’s through his sacrifice we pray.”

The whole group murmured “amen.” Neal started a song, a somber worshipful hymn, giving me a moment to admire his beautiful singing voice, along with his sensitive spirit. We continued to sing for about 15 minutes until the campus minister, a short, balding, very likable guy named George stood up. He said a few words welcoming the new students and greeting all of the returners, echoing Neal’s prayer for us all to have a great school year, dedicated to the Lord.

“I want to invite you all to make a habit early on in the semester of coming to these devotionals on Tuesday and Thursday nights,” said George, pacing around the opening at the center of the crowd. “There are also Bible classes on Sunday and Wednesday, Sunday morning and evening worship, and several different Bible studies on Monday nights, so you have your choice of opportunities for fellowship and study.

“I know that sounds like a lot of church,” you read my mind, George!, “but there is nothing more important to your education, your college career, or your life than your relationship with the Father. So please make time to worship with your brothers and sisters in Christ part of your routine.” If every service is as encouraging as this one, I’ll be there. And it wouldn’t hurt if Neal was always present to do the singing and the praying.

At the end of the devotional, we all “circled-up” at George’s invitation. That is, we all put arms around each other and gathered tightly in the center of the courtyard. It was an agoraphobe’s nightmare, several hundred bodies packed into one small space.

“Love one another, for love is of God,” someone began to sing and we all joined in singing “The Greatest Commands.” It was exhilarating to stand in the midst of this enormous column of sound. I imagined it like a praise laser beam right to heaven. The music was so beautiful, I just stopped singing and let the praise flow over and around and through me. Surrounded by the body of believers, I imagined being hugged by the Lord.

Oh Lord, you have searched me and you know me…you hem me in behind and before. You have lain your hand upon me. The words of my favorite psalm welled up in my heart.

When the song ended, someone else prayed, and then the hug-fest began. Once again, everyone was hugging everyone else and talking loudly. What had felt like a heavenly embrace started to feel like a mob scene. I stood there a moment feeling awkward because I didn’t know anyone to hug or even talk to. I started to squeeze my way through the crowd, heading back to the dorm.

“Wait, Jenize!” Dawn and Marie hurried along after me. “Hey, don’t run off so fast. I didn’t get to introduce you properly to my sister. This is Marie. She’s new this semester, too.”

“Hi Marie,” I said, appreciating the fact that she seemed, like me, to be feeling new and out of place. “Where are you guys from?” Marie opened her mouth to respond, but Dawn spoke faster.

“Dallas. And you?”

“Des Moines.”

“Ah, another big city girl,” said Dawn. “Belleweather’s quite the small town, huh?”

“Yeah, but I like it so far.”

“Me too,” volunteered Marie.

“What are you guys planning to major in?” I asked.

“We’re both education majors,” answered Dawn. “Love kids, want to shape young minds and all that. Well, actually, I just want to be a mom, but a teacher would be good, too. How about you?”

“Tough question. I’m not really sure yet.”

“Are you in the choir?” Dawn asked. “You have a great voice.”

“Thank you. Uh, no, I’m not in choir. I was an orchestra-geek all through junior high and high school. I play the violin. I do love to sing, though.”

“Oh! That’s cool. Well, I’m in the choir,” continued Dawn, “and Marie is planning to try out. You should try out with her, since there’s no orchestra program here. It’s too late for this semester, but you guys can audition in the spring. It’s so great. You would love it!”

“I’ll think about it. I’m really more of a theater type, though. I’m hoping to be pretty heavily involved with the drama department.”

“Oh, us too!” said Dawn with a look that clearly identified her as a kindred spirit. “You know, auditions for A Midsummer Night’s Dream are this week.”

“Really? Doing Shakespeare has always been a dream of mine!” I was determined to get a part. “And you’ll both be auditioning?” I had trouble imagining Marie on stage. She seemed so shy.

“Yes, definitely,” said Dawn, and Marie nodded, smiling in agreement. “We’re going to read through the script aloud together and pick out our audition pieces tomorrow afternoon with our friend, Kit. Do you want to join us?”

“Sure, that’d be great!”

We stood chatting awhile until the crowd started to break up and people headed in to escape the mosquitoes. I finally caught sight of Neal. He was talking to three girls, who evidently thought that he was hilarious. They were all giggling together and hanging on his every word. My stomach did a flip-flop of joy and jealousy. I wanted to go over and say hello to him, but I couldn’t think of anything clever or witty to say. He looked my direction and I looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring.

I saw John Duncan laughing loudly among a jostling group of guys—judging from their build, all athletes. He caught my eye and gave me a smile and a wink.

Was that a friendly wink, or an ‘I-think-you’re-cute’ wink? I wondered. Maybe he’s just a winker. Either way, it was nice. It made me feel a little bit more confident and less ridiculous. Perhaps even a little bit desirable.

Dawn and Marie were still talking—well, Dawn was anyway—oblivious to my inattention.

“And so that’s how we got here,” she was saying.

“Oh, uh-huh.” I realized I hadn’t heard a thing she’d just told me.

“Are you ready to go back to the dorm?” Dawn asked. “You’re in McGarther, right? So are we.”

“Right, yeah.” I gave Neal a last look. He had moved on to another group, this time at least it was mixed males and females. He was evidently well liked, judging by the amount of people he was hugging. “Sure, let’s go.”

We turned to leave and had taken a few steps toward the dorm when a male voice called out, “Hey, Jenize!”

I spun around, half-expecting to see John, but it was Neal. Neal, hurrying across the courtyard to see me. A warm chill spread through my whole being at the sight.

“Hey, I’m glad I caught you,” he said, reaching us.

Boy, have you EVER caught me.

“Hi, Neal,” I said, trying to sound less nervous and excited than I felt. “Thanks again for all your help this afternoon.” Why did I say that? Now he’s thinking about the underwear incident and the mattress! Agh! Change the subject quick! “Uh, have you met Dawn and Marie Parsons?”

“I know Neal from choir,” said Dawn. “Neal, this is Marie, my little sister.”

“Ah, glad to know you, Marie,” he said. “Well, Jenize, what did you think of the devo?”

“I loved it!” I replied with sincere enthusiasm. “It was really…great.” Great? What kind of a word was that for such a mountain-top experience?

“Yeah, I love these devos. I’ve been missing this kind of worship all summer. You know, Sunday morning at my parents’ church is just not the same,” he said.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Dawn chimed in before I could respond. “There’s such a different spirit here than there is during a traditional church worship service.”

Someone called to Neal and he turned to wave.

“Well, you ladies have a lovely evening. See you around.” He smiled—right at me—and was gone.

“Goodnight,” I said softly as he darted away. I’ll be dreaming of you until we meet again, my heart continued. I floated all the way back to my room.