Avra's God (5 page)

He shook his head to dislodge the memory as
he followed the ribbon of streetlights toward home. He didn’t want
one girl stuck in his head.

Cisco hadn’t been to mass in years, since he
told Mamá the whole deal was a farce. So, why had he put on his
best jeans, his only clean T-shirt—even socks—and climbed into the
Martins’ minivan? Avra’s dad invited him, that’s why. Told him to
save his gas, ride with them. He regretted the whim as he bumped
along in the middle seat next to Avra.

Behind him, Kurt and Drew argued about their
favorite bands. Where did they
find
these God tunes? They
sounded
like his music. Strange.

His gaze snagged on Avra’s legs. “I’m not too
sure about this church thing. Don’t leave me hanging by myself.”
Avra grinned at him, and he thought—not for the first time—how much
he liked her smile.

“What’s the matter, cool boy? Afraid a bunch
of church people will eat you for lunch?”

“Afraid?” He acted wounded. “I’m not afraid.
It’ll just be weird.”

“Okay, stick with me. I’ll protect you.”

They piled out of the car onto the blacktop.
The sun beat through the muggy air, baking his shoulders as Kurt
and Drew headed toward a group of friends. Avra motioned with her
head for him to follow her toward the church. He fell in step with
her several yards behind her parents.

A guy in a pinstriped shirt and wide tie
stood out from the students in jeans and untucked shirts
surrounding Avra’s brothers. The guy’s gaze fell on Avra and his
mouth dropped open.

“Bingo. That must be your Morgan.”

“He’s not
my
Morgan,” she said between
her teeth.

Morgan marched toward them.

“Maybe it’s
you
who needs to stick by
me
for protection.”

Avra’s face reddened, curling a corner of his
mouth.

Morgan’s gaze raked across him and settled on
Avra’s blush as he halted in front of them. “I see how things are.”
He rubbed his chin. “So, who are you?”

Avra opened her mouth to correct Morgan, but
Cisco caught her eye, silencing her.

“The name’s Cisco.” He scanned Morgan from
the haircut, better suited to a man twice his age, to the shine on
his dress shoes.

He watched Morgan survey his shoulders,
beltless jeans, untied Champions.

“Morgan.” The guy extended his hand as if he
were a homeless guy missing his shopping cart.

He read Morgan’s expression and shook his
hand harder than necessary.
I’m not a homeless guy missing his
shopping cart.
“Hey, is this a church thing, shaking hands? Any
more odd little customs I gotta know? At my mom’s church you have
to kneel, sit, stand—and if you don’t get it right, you’re a
doofus.”

Morgan hesitated, a decision taking place in
his eyes. He laughed and slapped Cisco on the back. “This is going
to be cake.”

Cisco shot Avra an I-won-that-round look over
his shoulder.

She shrugged as if it was no big deal and
followed them.

Morgan hauled open one of the heavy wooden
doors and morphed into church tour guide. The next time Morgan took
a breath, Cisco scanned the sanctuary for Avra. “Hey, where’d Avra
go?”

Kallie peered at the Sunday morning blue sky
through half-closed eyes. The sunshine warmed her skin, blanketing
her with lethargy. A gull squawked. Laughter drifted toward her
from a group of children down the beach. In front of her the ocean
tumbled onto the hard-packed sand.

She thought of Jesse’s Friday night voice
lesson. In exchange for the lesson, he had given her a glimpse of
the man inside. But it wasn’t the first time. Puffs of air smelling
faintly of salt, seaweed, and fish, lifted the hairs on her arms.
Her mind arched lazily back to the day they met.

She’d slipped out the back door and washed
packing dust and guilt from her hands in the spigot outside the
kitchen door. Aly was precious little help and she hated to abandon
Mom in the middle of unpacking. But she needed a break. They’d been
up till three a.m. shoving the last of her girlhood into the
U-Haul.

Mom landed a job on the night nursing staff
at Bert Fish Medical Center, and Kallie decided to move with them.
Her high school friends had scattered. She might as well get her
degree at Daytona State College as anywhere. Her love for Miami had
died with her parents’ marriage seven years ago. Mom’s cramped
condo in Coconut Grove had never been home.

Kallie speed-walked away from the aging
bungalow that huddled over the boxes of their lives. A few blocks
away, she turned onto a sandy path that led through a piney lot.
She breathed in the clean, green scent.

The path opened into a clearing where a tin
shed stood. The sky purpled and spat fat drops of water in her
face. Music drifted through the half-open door. She ducked inside
and heard a male voice accompanied by guitar.

She stood on the dirt floor, listening to the
melody speak her language. A mower, rakes, and a hose coiled on a
hook beside a plastic gas can materialized from the dimness.

The voice cascaded through the trap door and
down the steps, sweeping her into the soul of a guy she’d never
seen. Caught in the music, she moved toward it and settled on a
small landing. She stilled, not wanting to disturb the web the
music wove.

The rain slides down the windowpane.

I’m falling, slipping away from you.

Why did you push me away?

I never wanted to let you go.

I’m sliding down the pain,

Sliding down the pain.

Daddy, I never wanted to let you go,
either. Why did you push me away?
The stranger read her heart,
and he didn’t even know she was there. The music washed through her
and waned. The singer shifted into a ballad. Her eyes had grown
heavy in the half-light.

She smoothed her beach towel on the sand and
rolled to her stomach, breaking off the memory. Jesse plumbed all
the way to her soul—untouched since Daddy dumped it, twisted and
bleeding on the gravel outside the Grove condo. Thick clouds moved
across the sun, casting her in shadow. She burrowed into the warmth
of the sand, and it molded to the contours of her body. She didn’t
want some guy walking around inside her heart. He didn’t have her
permission.

Cisco watched Morgan lift one side of his
unibrow.

Morgan thumbed toward the rear of the
sanctuary. “Avra’s in the sound booth. Didn’t she tell you she runs
sound every Sunday?”

“Later.” He waved Morgan off and headed
toward Avra. He poked his head through the sound booth doorway.
“You ditched me with the freak. What were you thinking?”

Avra chuckled. “You could sit with my
brothers.”

“They’re too busy scoping church chicks.”

Avra wheeled her chair around and punched up
the mics for the worship band assembling on the platform. “What’s
wrong with church chicks?”

He dropped into a folding chair. “Nothing.
I’m all about girls. I’m just feeling a little insecure.”

Avra shot him a yeah-right smile.

When the girl smiled, she took his breath
away. Tiny blue flames danced in her eyes. Pink warmed her classic
cheekbones. His gaze dipped to soft lips.

“You’ve never had an insecure moment in your
life.” she said.

“I was afraid the bros would go sit with some
hottie and leave me with your folks to make an idiot of
myself.”

“We’re not getting any monitor here,” a guy
in a mullet said over the mic from the front. Avra turned two
knobs.

“I always wanted to be a techie.”

Avra adjusted the output on mullet’s mic. “A
major in automobile science isn’t enough?”

“Ask me when I graduate.”
If
he
graduated.

He watched Avra work for the next twenty
minutes. Smart girl. Bet she wasn’t pulling a D in Humanities like
he was. A girl like that would be good for a guy. Wait. That made
her sound like a vitamin or two-a-days during football season. He
hadn’t played since New Smyrna Beach High, but they weren’t
something you forgot.

No, Avra was class—and she didn’t have a
clue. What would it be like to kiss class like that? It had to be
different from the girls he usually made out with. He wasn’t
stupid. He went after those girls because they dished a whole lot
more than kisses.

Avra sat back and opened a pink leather Bible
in her lap.

He fumbled through the hardback Bible she
passed him. She reached over; flipped open the book to the Table of
Contents; ran her finger down a column to Luke and across to page
eight hundred seventy-three; found the page near the back; and
tapped a clean round nail on a large
fifteen
, then a small
eleven
.

The whole process took maybe five seconds,
long enough to inhale something that reminded him of the gardenia
bush in his yard at home. When had he ever been this close to her?
He leaned closer, elbows on his knees, Bible held between them, and
breathed in again.

The pastor said, “The father stood on the
porch waiting for his son to come home. It didn’t matter that his
son had wished him dead; spent his inheritance; and lived a wanton,
sinful life. The father still loved him. When the son came home,
the father threw his arms around him, put a ring on his finger, and
threw a party. Your heavenly Dad loves
you
that much.”

Fifteen minutes later, the music faded and
people funneled into the aisles. Cisco leaned his chair on its back
two legs and watched Avra shut down the soundboard. “The father
represents God?”

“Yeah.”

“Who’s the son?”

“You and me.”

“Me,” he corrected. “I’m all about that
wanton sin stuff.”

Avra smoothed her denim skirt toward her
knees and crossed her legs. “We can’t do anything to make God love
us any less than he
d
oes.”

He pried his eyes from the soft tan of her
legs. It was just wrong to talk about God while you were looking at
a girl’s legs. “I thought we had to, like, do stuff to get in good
with God. But, why try? I can never do enough good stuff for God.”
He glued his eyes to her face.

“Nobody can.” Avra sounded so certain.

He’d plunged into some parallel universe
discussing religion. Jesse would never believe it. “Not even nuns
and priests? How fair is that?”

“But He made a way for us to be His
kids.”

“Okay, I’ll bite
.
How?”

Avra leaned toward him, the intensity in her
eyes burned through him. “Through Jesus.”

But he wasn’t buying. “Yeah, yeah, I know the
drill. I felt hope right here—” He thumped his chest. “—while the
preacher was talking about the dad welcoming the son.” He clamped
his lips together. Avra had no clue. “I’m that kid. Hell, I spent
the whole summer drunk or stoned on the beach, making it with as
many girls as possible.”

Avra swallowed and her eyes widened, but she
didn’t look away.

Why was he getting steamed about God? He ran
his finger under the neck of his T-shirt. “Like your God would care
about someone like me. He’d whoop my tail like my old man did.”

“Yeah, that’s what you deserve.”

So much for hope. Cisco dropped his face into
his hands.
Chill, man. This is ridiculous.
He studied the
soundboard knobs—anything but Avra’s eyes—and stood. “I’m outta
here.”

Avra’s hand closed on his arm.

“God
does
love you like the dad in the
story. That’s why Jesus took what you deserve.”

Her blue gaze pierced clear to his gut. He
broke the connection, squirming like he did when he still thought
Mamá could read his mind. “That’s all?”

Avra nodded and gave him a smile that didn’t
reach her eyes. Her fingers clenched white on her Bible. A pulse
throbbed in her neck. This religion stuff was mega important to
her.

He slipped an arm around her and squeezed her
tense shoulder. “It’s a lot to think about. Thanks. Maybe there is
hope.”

In that split second of contact he felt Avra
relax and saw Morgan stop in the doorway, do a double take, and
move on.

Jesse leaned against the glass auditorium
doors of the J.M. Goddard Center; Cisco sprawled on the cement
beside him, watching the rain. Kallie stood in the corner of the
alcove rubbing her arms for warmth. He wouldn’t mind helping her
out with that. At Kallie’s feet, Avra leaned against the bricks,
her arms wrapped around her knees.

Jesse twisted to look at Kallie. Why wouldn’t
she just tell him what she thought about their first band practice?
She was driving him crazy. “So, how do you think it went?”

Kallie stared at him, surprised. Then she
smiled. “Cisco was great.” But she kept her eyes on Jesse. She knew
what he was asking, and she wasn’t going to give it to him.

“Yeah, man!” Cisco punched the air.

Kallie glanced at Cisco. “I especially liked
the twirling drumstick thing.”

“You mean this?” Cisco demonstrated.

“Yeah, cute.”

Cisco smiled smugly.

“Billy will be fine when he learns the
music.” Kallie slid down the glass door and tucked her arms close
to her body. The rain poured down in sheets now, blowing from the
north, but the alcove stayed dry.

Okay, so she wanted him to work for it.
“Vocals?” Jesse eyed Kallie. “I’d sound better if you sang with
me.” He looked at her, hoping he didn’t sound as pathetic as he
felt.

“I’m not singing with a boy band.”

“We are
not
a boy band!” Cisco was
indignant. “Do you see us up there doing line dances, shaking our
hips together?” He finished with a huff.

Avra laughed.

“What are you laughing at?” Cisco fired his
balled-up sweatshirt at her. “You’re insulting my manhood
here.”