What Matters Most (2 page)

Marissa was wild, and I know she made some incredibly stupid choices—like drinking and driving—but there was a part of her wild side that I actually liked. I enjoyed her wit and her sarcastic humor. I liked that she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or question Christians who weren’t acting much like Christians. Those characteristics never really bothered me at all. And I always imagined her eventually finding God—on her terms…or maybe on His. I’m not even sure. But I always thought she’d make a cool Christian.

And now…well, I’m sure she’ll still make a cool Christian. But she has changed. I miss the old Marissa. Still, I’m committed to being her friend, and I will continue to visit her. And who knows? Maybe the doctor is wrong. Maybe she’ll get back her language skills and her personality too. Because really, why wouldn’t God want Marissa to have her personality back? Anyway, that’s what I’m praying for. Chloe and Caitlin and several others are praying for the same thing. We want Marissa back. But we also want her to give her heart to God. And we think it could happen.

Today I met with Mrs. King, the guidance counselor at Harrison High, to establish what year in school this should be for me. Because of my lack of transcripts from previous schooling—although I gave myself grades during my homeschooling era—my status as a student needs to be determined.

“Of course, you’re aware,” she began, “that you weren’t even required to attend public school once you acquired your GED.”

“I know…”

“But I’m glad you decided to come back here.” She smiled. “I think Harrison High needs you.”

I tried not to frown. “I’m not sure everyone agrees.”

She looked surprised. “Why not?”

“Nothing—never mind.” I waved my hand in dismissal. Why had I said that?

But she just chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure it won’t be all smooth sailing, Maya. It never is. But like my dad used to tell me, what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.”

I nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard that one.”

“So…” She flipped through my file. “Based on the academic testing we did last year before you took the GED, you could easily make this your senior year. But based on your age”—she peered curiously at me—“this should be your junior year. Which do you want it to be?”

“It’s my choice?”

“For the most part…since your case is rather exceptional. I assume you’re still working on your emancipation?”

I gave her a quick update on my parents and how I was staying with my uncle for the time being. “My mother’s appeal is at the end of the month,” I said. “From what I’ve heard, there’s a good chance she could be released. My dad said it wasn’t so much due to her being proven innocent as to the overcrowded situation in California state prisons. And I suppose her attorney is pretty good too.”

“So what does that mean for you, Maya?”

“I’m not totally sure. My dad hasn’t had time to petition the courts for my custody yet. And to be honest, I don’t really want him to. I mean, I’ve been taking care of myself for a while now. I think I’d like to continue that way. Plus he’ll be out of the country for about six months anyway.”

“Does your mother still have legal custody?”

“According to the law. But based on her criminal record, along with what I’ve managed to put together toward my emancipation, I think a judge would rule in my favor.”

She nodded. “I think you’re right, Maya. And if there’s anything I can do to help your case, please feel free to ask.”

I thanked her, and then we returned to the question of what year this should be for me.

“What do you really want, Maya?”

I thought carefully. “I’m not sure.”

“I understand. But we should get this figured out, especially if you want to be a senior. You’ll have to jump through certain hoops if you want to graduate in the spring—I mean, with a Harrison High School diploma and not just a GED or state degree.”

So I asked her to explain the difference, and she told me that a diploma from Harrison would be much more impressive on my transcript than a GED or even a state diploma. “And I assume you will want to go to college?”

I nodded eagerly.

“And based on the testing we did last spring, I assume you’ll want to go to a good college. I have a strong suspicion we can get some scholarship funds coming your way, which is just one more reason to determine whether this is your junior or senior year.”

“What do you recommend?”

Her brow creased. “I think you’re the only one who can answer that, Maya.”

“Yes.” I sighed. “I guess I should pray about it.”

“That sounds wise. And if you could let me know by next week—especially if you want this to be your senior year—I would appreciate it.”

I thanked her and left. But now I’m unsure. A part of me feels like I’ve barely gotten into a real school, like this is my first shot at a somewhat “normal” life. What if just one year isn’t enough? But another part of me feels like maybe it will be more than enough. Like when I think about the juvenile games some high school kids play—like Vanessa Hartman plays. But I don’t want to think about that right now. At the moment I’d rather think about whether I’m a junior or a senior this year. I’ve given myself the weekend to figure it out. I plan to e-mail Kim about it. And I’ll talk to Caitlin on Saturday. Most importantly, I plan to pray about it. I want to know what God wants me to do. That’s what matters most.

I
agreed to go to the football game with Dominic tonight for three reasons. Reason number one was that I didn’t want to go by myself, and I didn’t really want to be stuck with Brooke and Amanda either. I mean, we’re getting along okay, but sometimes their Christian-speak and evangelical ways get on my nerves. Like when they started to dis a girl I’ve recently been getting to know—a girl named Siobhan. She’s in my art class, and her sense of humor reminds me of Marissa’s. In fact, I was only partially shocked when she offered to pose nude for our class today. We were working on figure drawing, and Siobhan insisted that the wooden models were not “anatomically correct.” Mr. Fenton said, “Thanks, but no thanks,” and gave her a grim warning look. Everyone else just laughed.

“Why were you talking to
her?”
Amanda asked when I came over to sit with them at lunch.

“Huh? Who?”

“Siobhan Blakely.”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “Why not?”

“You were talking to
Siobhan Blakely?”
Brooke said.

“What’s the big deal?” And now, despite the fact she’d turned me down, I was ready to go back to Siobhan and insist that she sit with us for lunch.

Then Brooke and Amanda proceeded to tell me that Siobhan had taken money in exchange for sex back when they were in middle school.

“And you know this for a fact?” I asked, then instantly regretted it as Brooke and Amanda took turns going into detail about how “everyone” knew it was true. Fortunately Dominic managed to derail the judgment train, which is actually one more reason I decided to go with him tonight.

But the second main reason I agreed to go with Dominic was because I want Vanessa to see me with him and assume we’re dating and hopefully stop fretting over me stealing her ex-boyfriend. Like how is that even possible?

The third reason I agreed was because I made Dominic promise not to consider this a date. And he was okay with it.

“I need you as my friend,” I told him. “And if you can’t handle that, just be honest.” Then I explained about how it was hard to hang with Brooke and Amanda all the time.

He laughed. “I’ve noticed.”

“And I’m trying to love them, but when they said those things about Siobhan, I wanted to scream.”

“I noticed the veins on your neck sticking out.”

“And I appreciated you tossing the WWJD line at them.”
I grinned. “At least it shut them up. God only knows if it made them think.”

“Just for the record”—he lowered his voice—“what they said about Siobhan was true, Maya.”

I raised my brows. “And you know about this from a
personal
point of view, do you?”

“No,” he said quickly, “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean I heard about it from sources—you know from
guy
sources. And—”

“And
your point is?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. But I just thought you should know.”

“Maybe I should throw the WWJD line at you now.”

He grimaced, then held up his hands like he was surrendering. “Okay…okay, I mean, you’re probably right.”

“I’m not exactly inexperienced when it comes to being around people of questionable character, Dominic.”

He looked uncomfortable. “I know. I guess I just feel kind of protective of you.”

That actually made me laugh. Although it was kind of sweet, it was also slightly patronizing. “Thanks,” I said crisply. “I’ll let you know if I’m ever in need of protection.”

The ironic thing is that later, this very afternoon, I almost wanted Dominic around to protect me. Although it had nothing to do with Siobhan—and everything to do with Wyatt and Vanessa. It’s too bad those two can’t get back together because I have a
feeling they belong together. I also have a feeling that I’m being used as a pawn in their relationship. But I could be wrong.

Anyway, I have AP U.S. History fifth period with Wyatt. And as I’ve already mentioned, Wyatt has been nice to me. Last week he asked to partner with me on a project, and since Vanessa hadn’t come onto my radar screen at that time, I agreed. Wyatt is fairly intelligent, and he seemed sincere about the project, which is colonial history (something I’m fairly familiar with, thanks to the homeschool curriculum that I used to get online). So for the first few days, all seemed to be going well, and we were focused on the emergence of American cultural traits and their impact on contemporary culture. But the past couple of days, his interest in academics seems to have deteriorated. Instead of discussing puritanical principles, he’s been questioning me about my personal life—about my dad and where I came from and how I got the TV and newspaper spots.

“What’s the deal? Are you writing a biography on me or something?”

He smiled and looked into my eyes. “I just find you really interesting, Maya. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

Okay, I’ll admit in my journal that his aqua blue eyes made me a little uncomfortable, but I didn’t let it show. “No,” I said coolly, “I just want to make sure we ace this project.”

“We can work on it together this weekend.”

“I plan to work on it this weekend.”

“Why don’t we work together?”

Fortunately, class ended just then. I smiled at him as I gathered my things and told him I’d think about it. Mostly it was a distraction tactic. Then as I was leaving the classroom, I realized he was sticking to me like superglue.

“So why don’t you give me your number?” He opened his cell phone. “I’ll give you a call.”

I was literally cornered between the door and where the wall juts out, but I just smiled, acted like no big deal, and told him my number. I figured I could help him cool his jets later. But that’s when I saw a blur of a cheerleader uniform lurking in a crowd of kids standing just behind him, and when I caught a glimpse of long blond hair, I suspected it might be Vanessa.

“I think someone wants to talk to you,” I said, nodding toward where she was standing.

He turned, and I managed to slip out of my corner to see that it was indeed Vanessa, and she looked angry. “Well, it sure doesn’t take some girls very long.” She directed this to her redheaded friend, also in uniform. “I guess that’s what my dad calls a fast girl.” And they both laughed.

“I guess that’s better than being a
slow
girl,” I said lightly, then regretted it.

Vanessa took a step toward me, but Wyatt moved between us as if to break something up. “Ladies, ladies,” he said in a cheerful but demeaning tone, “don’t fight over me.”

I stepped next to him and looked him directly in the eye. “Don’t worry. I’m not.”

He chuckled. “No, I doubt you need to fight for any guy, do you, Maya?” He winked at me. “I’ll call you this weekend.”

Vanessa looked daggers at me, then smiled a wicked smile. “You two deserve each other.”

I couldn’t think of a response for that, and maybe it was just as well. But I didn’t like feeling that she’d gotten the last word. And I didn’t like that everyone who witnessed this little scene probably assumed there really was something going on between Wyatt and me.

That’s just one more reason I’m glad I agreed to go to the game with Dominic tonight. I hope he doesn’t mind if I act like we really are a couple. Not that Wyatt will notice since he’ll be on the football field. But hopefully Vanessa will look up from one of her cheerleader routines and see that Dominic and I are together and get the hint. Otherwise, I might just have to tell her straight out that I am not and never have been interested in her ex-boyfriend for anything beyond academics, and maybe not even for that.

Even before I met with Caitlin this morning, I knew I would have to tell her about last night…and how it went with Dominic. She’s been mentoring me for a few months now, and I try to take her advice seriously—especially when it comes to dating and guys. But first I wanted to get her opinion about whether I should be a junior or a senior this year.

“What do you want to do?” Caitlin leaned forward slightly, watching me with that interest that always shows she genuinely cares. Although she’s married to the youth pastor, Josh Miller, and she’s also on staff at church, I never feel like a “project” as much as I feel like a friend.