Glancing down the hall, he says, “I saw Grace headed off to youth group without you today.”
“Did she?” I must have missed her exit while I was texting. “Well, you know Grace, always eager and willing to see how she can help.”
Nodding his head, he says, “She’s a good one, that Grace.”
“She sure is,” I agree.
“How are you doing, Zoey?” he asks, a slight emphasis in his question.
“I’m good,” I tell him.
“Are you?”
I look down at the ground, clutching the handle of my purse a little more tightly in my hands. Dammit, Luke. This has to be because Luke saw me yesterday.
“I don’t want you to think we were gossiping about you, because I assure you that was not the intent at all, but Luke confided in me that you’ve been having some trouble at school with some of the kids. Calling you names and—”
I cut him off, nodding my head. “Yeah, for a while, but I don’t think that’ll be happening anymore.”
Instead of looking in any way reassured, he looks even more concerned. “Because you’ve made new friends?”
Knowing he already has the answer, I respond with stony silence. I know exactly what this is, and I really don’t want to hear it. I may not be able to argue convincingly that Carter isn’t bad news, but it’s no one else’s decision to make. It’s mine. I’m the one who will bear the consequences if I’m wrong to give him a chance, so I don’t need to be told what to do, or who to spend my time with. I’m perfectly capable of deciding that on my own, and anyone who doesn’t like it can mind their own business.
Instead of saying anything I expect, Pastor James nods firmly and says, “Well, I trust your judgment.”
I blink in surprise. “You do?”
He smiles again. “Of course I do. You’re a bright young woman, Zoey. You have a good head on your shoulders. You have a respect for people I find quite admirable. I only hope you’ll insist on that same respect being shown back to you, because you deserve no less. You’re at an age of exploration, of self-discovery and expansion, so it’s natural to try new things and meet new people. I also want to remind you that my door is always open if you ever want to talk about anything—whether you need guidance or just to bounce your own ideas off someone. Sometimes we hear our own thoughts better if they’re said out loud. Even if you just need a friend other than Grace to talk to. My door is open, always.”
“I appreciate that,” I tell him, and I mean it. I don’t know why I expected Pastor James to get all stodgy and judgmental. He’s not like that; it’s one of the things I like about him.
“Well, we should probably get to youth group before they start without us,” he says lightly.
I can’t help smiling. “Better be careful, Grace might take your job.”
My meeting runs much longer than I anticipated. I wasn’t able to text Carter and let him know. I tried twice, but as soon as I got my phone out, someone would start talking to me. My mom already left after the service when I told her I was going to lunch with Carter afterward, but Carter isn’t at the church to pick me up since I never texted him to tell him when to be here.
Pastor James came outside with Grace talking his ear off about the fundraiser we’re organizing for next weekend. We have a youth group meeting on Wednesday, but Grace insisted since we have to have all this done by weekend, we should have a couple team leaders who would help out more, and then she volunteered me to help her.
So, my week is looking a lot busier now.
“We could go with you to buy supplies,” Grace volunteers, as Pastor James walks us toward her car. “We’ll need a bunch of stuff, so more hands are always helpful, and since you have that big SUV, me and Zoey could easily fit with all the cookout supplies.”
Faint amusement in his tone, James assures her, “I think we’ve got the shopping under control, but thank you, Grace. We’ll touch base again on Wednesday and see what everybody has donation-wise.”
“I work tomorrow,” I volunteer. “So I can ask about the gift card from my work.”
“I’ll make sure I hit up every other place on our list tomorrow,” Grace assures him. “I’ll have answers from everyone by Tuesday.”
“Great, then we’ll talk about it Wednesday,” he says.
Grace shrugs. “I’m just saying, I could come Tuesday if we wanted to get a head start on things.”
“Wednesday will suffice,” he assures her.
While he fends off Grace’s enthusiasm a little more, Carter finally texts me back. He’s still interested in going to lunch, so he asks which church I go to and tells me he’ll swing by and pick me up.