Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2) (29 page)

Jonah.

I know she’s being genuine, and that she won’t tell much of our conversation to Eden. I trust Kennedy. But, I also don’t want to hurt her. The stuff that’s been going on with Matt isn’t the only reason why I’ve been wrestling with God lately, but it
has
opened my eyes. I don’t know why God would let all of that stuff happen to his family. Why his dad would cheat on his mom with more than one woman. That he paid for.

But what I do know is that Matt’s found himself in the same kind of “dancing” places more than once since Thanksgiving break, and God isn’t helping him with that either. No matter how hard I pray. It was a miracle of sorts, I guess, that Matt told me any of that at all. I nearly pried it out of him when he started looking unkempt and withdrawn, and had an even greater lack of focus on his schoolwork than usual. He didn’t give me much in the way of details, but the shame all over his face as he spoke was enough.

Matt’s in big trouble, and Kennedy’s getting hurt in the process. I know he likes her and that she likes him, but thankfully Matt’s aware that he’s in no place to offer her a relationship right now. Instead of being honest with her, which he thinks is going to make him lose her forever, he’s pushing her away. I’m not sure his thinking is clear where she’s concerned. I know that Kennedy and/or Roland could be of some help to Matt if he would just let me tell them. Or if he would tell them himself. But, he begged for my silence on this, and I promised I would—unless I think he’s in serious danger.

The fact that he’d been shallow in his returning of my texts during this break so far, however, leads me to believe I’m running out of reasons to keep his secrets.

“Stuff,” I answer sullenly when Kennedy asks me why I’m struggling. Because it’s true. It’s so much
stuff.
Watching how she’s been treated this semester, everything with Matt, and dealing with my father as I stand up for what I believe in biblically and politically.
Stuff.

“Eloquent,” she cracks before opening her bag of chips. “Eloquently full of crap.”

“Kennedy,” Roland chimes in from the front seat.

“You’re not listening,” she retorts in the same cautionary tone.

He just shakes his head and keeps driving. Not another word.

“Look,” I offer in an attempt to move the conversation along. “It’s just growing pains, you know? I see how Joy treated you, I hear how people talk behind others’ backs, I see what’s going on in this country—”

“Is that why you wanted to come on this trip?” she asks, licking bright orange powder from her fingers. “Research?”

To get out of my house and spend time with a sane person li
k
e Roland.

“Yes,” I half-lie. “And I figured it’d be an easy way to hang out with Matt some more.”

That part isn’t a lie. I know Matt needs me, because he’s shut everyone
else
out. And that fractured look in Kennedy’s eyes proves she’s his latest victim.

Come on, God. I don’t know if our line has been severed, or what, but I need you. Matt needs you. Work through me however you can. Please. He’s too good for what he’s putting himself through.

Hopefully I can get through to him before it’s too late.

My phone dings with a text, but I ignore it in an effort to communicate with Kennedy. It dings again, and Kennedy huffs, rolls her eyes, and waves her phone.
Get a clue
she mouths. Feeling embarrassed at my lack of social skill with Kennedy—as always—I lift my phone from beside me.

Kennedy:
Please tell me what’s really going on with Matt

For once I wish this conversation was about Eden. I do feel awful about the way our relationship went, but I know Eden means it when she says she wants to s
t
ay friends, and I intend to hold up my end of that friendship until I’m ready for more. If I’m ever ready for more, and if she still wants me then.

Me:
Sorry. I can’t tell you.

Kennedy:
Why
?
He won’t tell me, and I know it’s not good. I can’t help him if I don’t know what’s going on.

Casting a glance to my left, I study Kennedy’s downtrodden face. While she typically looks serious, I’ve rarely seen her
sad
. I sigh.

Me:
You couldn’t help him even if you knew, Kennedy. I don’t even know what’s all going on.

Kennedy:
Let’s start with his dad. From what I can piece together, he’s got a bit of a drinking problem and probably cheated on Matt’s mom at least twice?

I clench my teeth to prevent my mouth from swinging open.

Kennedy:
I’m right aren’t I
?

Me:
How?

Are you so good at reading people?
I’d like to tell her it’s a gift she clearly inherited from her dad, but she often gets a sour look on her face
w
he
n
people compare her to Roland. Though, given the hug I saw them in today, I bet it wouldn’t be so bad. Still, I stay on the safe side.

Kennedy:
I’ve
g
ot loads of friends with divorced parents and I watch a lot of TV.

Me:
Oh …

I don’t know how to respond in a way that she would find appropriate. She’s only the second person in my life I’ve known with divorced parents, and network TV was forbidden in my house while growing up. Still is, though my siblings and I get around it thanks to the
I
nternet.

Which is what keeps getting Matt in trouble with himself.

Kennedy:
I’m half kidding. I’m just … I don’t know. Good at reading people? He’s dropped enough clues around for me to piece it together, but I don’t know why he just won’t tell me. You know what—

I’m about to say “what” when Kennedy puts down her phone and speaks to the front of the car.

“Roland?”

His eyes flash to the rearview mirror for a second. “Yeah?”

“Since we’re going to be invading the Well’s residence in the next couple of hours, I’d like to clear some pink elephants out of the way.”

Oh God …

“Okay,” Roland draws out.

Kennedy clears her throat like she’
s
about to present a court case. Which isn’t all that far off, actually. “So I know that you and Matt’s dad—Buck or Joseph or whatever you call him now—went to UConn together and played on the basketball team.” Roland nods, and Kennedy keeps talking. “And Buck reached out to you while you were … on your downward spiral. Genuinely enough that mom likes him to this day. Which, as we all know, is a huge feat, since she doesn’t like anyone.”

Roland and Kennedy share the chuckles of an inside joke, and I’m not the least bit upset to be an outsider. I like seeing the work God’s doing in their relationship. It’s the closest thing to a miracle I’ve seen in a long time.

“I assume you’re approaching your point, and the roundabout way suggests I’m not likely to enjoy it?” Roland asks with a grin.

Kennedy sticks out her tongue. “I also know from Matt that his dad had burnout and it seems like maybe he had some drinking issues in there, and … well … women.”

“Women?” Roland clears his throat, flicking his eyes up to the mirror every couple of seconds.

“Matt won’t tell me everything. Like my feminine virgin ears couldn’t possibly bear it, or something. But, honestly? Whatever happened is making Matt feel like he’s not good enough. I asked him to date me and he said no. He said he’s damaged and all of that stuff. And I just want to know why.”

Holy crap. She asked him out? He said no?!

“So what are you asking?” I butt into the conversation.

“How about I ask a few yes or no questions. Is that okay?” Kennedy asks Roland.

He hesitates but finally nods. “Fine.”

“Matt’s dad has or had a drinking problem, right?”

“Yes.” Roland nods. I sit back and prepare to watch the volley.

“And he engaged in some sort of inappropriate relationship with someone who
wasn’t
his wife.”

Another affirmative comes from Roland, who is shaking his head.

Kennedy takes a deep breath. “And whatever that was all about contributed or was a result of his burnout. But it happened more than once, didn’t it?”

“It did.”

“It’s not a secret, Roland,” Kennedy assures him. “I mean, the whole congregation down there knows, don’t they?”

He nods. “They know enough.”

“Wait a minute,” Kennedy says almost to herself, slumping back in her seat.

“What?” I ask, my eyes meeting Roland’s in the mirror.

“Jesus,” she whispers.

“Language, Kennedy,” Roland warns.

Seeming to ignore him, Kennedy turns to me, extending an index finger in my direction. “That’s why he won’t tell me anything and why he thinks I’m too good for him. How could I be so dumb?”

I
s
hake my head slightly. “What?”

“He thinks he’s going to turn out just like his dad.
Man.
When he spent so much time talking about his anger toward his dad, I figured he was embarrassed by the stuff, which I’m sure he is, or did
n
’
t
want me judging
him
because of it.”

“That’s probably part of it.” I wipe my palms on my pants.

Kennedy shakes her head. “He got weirder after Thanksgiving. After spending lots of time with his dad. He’s told me before how he’s gotten no answers from God about why his family had to go through everything they went through. I think …” Her eyes well with tears as she trails off.

Roland clears his throat. “You think what?”

Kennedy’s eyes move from me to him and back gain. “I think his perception of God’s silence is making him think God isn’t there. That he’s worthless and that his father was too and he’s destined to end up like him. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Perception of God’s silence?” Roland asks.

Kennedy waves her hand. “You know he’s never really silent. Quiet, maybe, or nonverbal, but he’s always moving. Always speaking to us. But Matt’s too hurt to remember that.”

Watching her brain work is an incredible sight, but watching her
soul
work? Down right breathtaking. With a simple wave of her hand, Kennedy assumes something that people spend their whole lives studying: the presence of God. Without pomp or circumstance, she says more about her beliefs than I’ve heard her say all semester.

“I think Matt’s in trouble, Roland. But I don’t know what it is.”

Roland nods slowly. “Well we’ll be there
in
a few hours and then for a couple of days. I’ll talk with his dad and see how Matt’s been behaving.” He holds up his hand. “Before you say anything, don’t worry. I won’t let on that we’ve—you’ve had this conversation.”

“Thanks,” Kennedy says, reaching for her chips.

“Until then,” Roland adds, “maybe we could pray for Matt and that whole situation.”

Kennedy sighs, suddenly looking exhausted. “Can we do it Episcopal style?”

“Huh?” I question.

Roland chuckles. “She means silently.”

I grin. “Gotchya.”

A hush falls over the car, and I watch Kennedy slowly tap out a text. I quickly set my phone to “vibrate” to avoid catching Roland’s attention. A second later, it hums against my palm.

Kennedy:
I don’t want to know details right now, but how bad is he?

I move my eyes up the smooth line of her jaw all the way to her eyes. She’s begging me for honesty here, and isn’t asking for too much. She certainly knows more than Matt’s giving her credit for and, honestly
, i
f God’s going to be used in this situation at all, it’s going to be through her since she has a self-evident faith that rivals either of ours at the moment. Maybe that’s part of the point in all of this. To have the lip-ringed rebel drag the PK back to God, kicking and screaming.

Two PK’s, maybe.

Kennedy:
Come on Jonah. How bad is Matt?

I hadn’t meant to take so long to reply, so I type quickly.

Me:
Really bad.

I sneak a look away from my phone in time to catch one tear slide off Kennedy’s cheek. Seemingly ignoring it, she simply nods and takes a deep breath.

Kennedy:
Help me help him.

I don’t text back. Instead, I set my phone next to me and lean forward, holding my head in my hands.

Help me help her.

Help me help him.

Help me love my dad.

Help him love me.

Help me.