Kat took off the earphones in the language lab and stretched. Uhhhh. Mini-term only started yesterday, but already the mountain of homework required for refresher Spanish had fried her brain. And that wasn’t counting the three hours of class lecture every morning, every day except Friday. And it was only Tuesday!
She gathered up her books and papers, stuffed them into her backpack, and wearily made her way out of the building. Good thing mini-term was only three weeks long or she might not make it.
But as she made her way across campus to the student center, she took a deep breath of the late afternoon air, smelling of a recent rain, new leaves, and budding flowers. Mmmm, spring. That was one thing she enjoyed about the Midwest compared to dry, hot Phoenix—actual seasons. Sure, winter was a lot colder here, but the snow was fun—at least for the first two months—and made her appreciate spring all the more.
And the move into the Rogers Park apartment this weekend was something to look forward to. She’d been surprised after service on Sunday when a guy about her age had introduced himself, said his name was Josh Baxter, and offered to help them move their stuff with the church van if they got the apartment. How cool was that?
The Crista campus had largely emptied out by Sunday evening, and even the student center was practically deserted as Kat headed for the corner booth in The Chip where her friends sprawled in various stages of early mini-term fatigue.
“She arrives! The fair maiden who skipped her own graduation.” Nick lifted a large paper cup of soda in a salute. “We thought maybe your professor sent your class to Mexico for language immersion.”
Brygitta scooted over and Kat sank down beside her roommate. “Not a bad idea,” she moaned. “I’d rather talk to a real person than to that disembodied voice in the language lab. I’m dead. I need food.”
“Already done . . . here it comes.”
An undergrad student with a once-white dish towel tied around his waist like an apron deposited a huge platter of nachos with melted cheese, chili beans, lettuce, tomatoes, and jalapeños in the center of the booth table. “Sorry for the wait. I’m here by myself tonight.” The kid seemed in no hurry to leave. “You guys all staying for mini-term too?”
“Yeah, man. We’ll be around.” Nick gave him a friendly fist bump.
“Not around much. We’ll be living off campus this summer.” Kat grinned at the student waiter and lifted a large nacho off the plate and into her mouth, strings of melted cheese dripping from it. Ohhh, so good. She felt her spirit rising again—the way she’d felt when they left the Candys’ apartment Sunday afternoon.
“All summer? You guys aren’t going home after mini-term?” The waiter’s eyes glittered. “Man, I’d love to stay in the city for the summer! My hometown in Oklahoma is barely on the map.” He made a face. “Their idea of a good time is the chili cook-off at the local VFW.”
Kat looked at him with interest. “Hey, would you be—ow! What’d you kick me for, Bree?”
Brygitta gave her a look, but the guy didn’t seem to notice. “Where’d you find an apartment? Uh, do you have room for one more? I’d pay my share of the rent . . . well, if I can find a job. Working here at The Chip doesn’t pay much—especially now that they’ve cut my hours.”
Nick shook his head. “That’s not it, man. We signed an agreement to sublet, and I’m sure the absentee owners wouldn’t be happy with us adding a fifth person they’d never met.”
The Oklahoma kid shrugged. “Yeah, well. My dad’s gonna say he needs me to help with the corn harvest, so it probably wouldn’t work anyway. Maybe next year. Well . . . eat up. Anybody want anything else? Refill on sodas?”
“Sure,” Nick said, and the student disappeared behind the café counter.
“Kat!” Brygitta hissed. “What were you thinking? You can’t just invite someone else to crash in the Candys’ apartment. That was the whole point of going to meet them, wasn’t it? To let them get to know us, assure them we’ll be responsible tenants. I mean, it’s full of their stuff, not ours!”
“Okay, okay.” Kat shrugged. “I just thought, you know, dividing the rent five ways would make it even cheaper. And you”—she pointed a finger in Nick’s face—“you just want to be the lone guy so you can keep a bedroom all to yourself.”
“Who, me?” Nick grinned innocently and stuffed his mouth with a loaded nacho.
They finally cleaned off the plate of nachos and leaned back with their refills of soda and water. “We should talk about Saturday,” Kat said. “Josh Baxter—he’s about your age, Nick, except he’s married and has a little girl—told us to call if we got the apartment and let him know when to show up here with the church van.”
“Decent of him,” Nick noted. “I was wondering how we were going to get all our stuff up to Rogers Park.”
“At least we don’t have to furnish the apartment ourselves.” Brygitta cupped her chin in her hand and sighed dreamily. “I mean, it’s got everything! Dishes, silverware, pots and pans, a TV, DVD player—”
“Yeah, but I remember your parents had to rent a U-Haul trailer to get all your stuff to campus.” Kat gave Brygitta a playful shove. “We’re going to need every inch of that big van.” She looked around the table. “So when can we be packed and ready? Ten? Eleven?”
“Make it noon,” Brygitta groaned. “I’m going to need all the time I can get after my class on Friday.”
Nick shrugged. “Fine by me.”
Kat looked at Olivia. “Livie? Is noon okay for you?”
Olivia cleared her throat. “Um, can we back up a little?” She tipped her head toward the counter, where the undergrad who’d waited on them was making milk shakes for a couple of new customers. “I’ve been thinking . . . I mean, if that guy over there is seriously interested in staying in Chicago this summer, maybe he should take my place. Would still be four people.”
The other three stared at her.
Kat found her voice. “I thought you’d decided to go in with us, Livie. You said you really liked the apartment. You even told Mrs. Candy you’d love to take care of her plants.”
Nick frowned. “Livie. You did talk to your mom, didn’t you?”
Olivia shrank into her corner. “Well . . . I was planning to—after I saw the apartment, I mean. But . . .”
“Livie!” Kat sputtered, but Nick held up his hand.
“Wait, Kat. Livie, I—we—don’t want you to feel coerced into staying here this summer if you feel you need to go home. We want you—but only if you want to.”
“Nick’s right,” Brygitta chimed in. “If not, we’ll just divide the rent three ways.” She eyed Kat. “Right, Kat?”
Three ways! Kat swallowed. That would be pretty tight—and none of them had jobs yet. And she didn’t want to ask her dad for rent money, though he’d be good for it. No, she wanted to do this on her own terms.
Still . . . they were right. She nodded slowly in agreement.
“Good.” Nick leaned forward. “Hey, remember the message on Sunday? You know, when Pastor Clark talked about where-two-or-three-are-gathered-together kind of prayers? Something we haven’t done yet is pray about this apartment thing.”
“Of course we’ve been praying!” Brygitta cut in. “At least I have.”
“I know. I mean, pray together about it. Like Jesus talked about.”
“Help us out, Preacher Boy.” Kat pointed at Nick’s backpack. “Got your Bible in there? Maybe you can show us what you’re talking about.”
“All right, all right.” He dug in his backpack and brought out a beat-up New Testament. “It’s Matthew 18, I think . . . yeah, here it is. ‘I tell you’—this is Jesus talking—‘that if two of you on earth agree about anything you ask for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them.’ ”
Kat frowned. “Anything we ask? It will be done?” She shook her head. “I realize I’m kind of new at this, but . . . that’s kind of a stretch, isn’t it?”
“But Nick has a point,” Brygitta said. “We should be praying in unity—or praying for unity—about this.”
Nick stuck his Bible into the backpack. “Exactly. Why don’t we pray with Livie that she’ll know what to do and have peace about it? And that the rest of us will have peace about her decision too.”
Olivia glanced nervously around the café. “You mean . . . right now? Here?”
Kat shrugged and grinned. “I’m in. Who’s going to mind? Apron-Guy over there? He’s too busy playing chief cook and dishwasher. Nick, this was your idea. You start.”
Kat was brushing her teeth that evening when she heard Brygitta holler, “Who is it?” Kat turned off the water in the bathroom sink and listened. Who was bothering them at this hour? She was tired and wanted to fall into bed.
“Livie!” she heard Brygitta say. “Are you okay?”
Olivia? Kat hurriedly spit out the toothpaste, rinsed her mouth, and flew back into the room. The younger girl stood in the middle of their room, a windbreaker thrown over her pajamas, clutching a sheet of paper.
“Livie! What is it?” Kat pulled their friend down into a three-way huddle on Brygitta’s bed.
Olivia groaned. “E-mail from my sister, Elin. She’s just finishing eleventh grade.” Olivia thrust the paper at Brygitta. “You read it.”
“O-kay.” Brygitta scanned the e-mail, eyes widening.
“Aloud!” Kat demanded.
“Okay, okay . . . ‘Dear Livie, I am so bleeping mad! Mom’s got a new boyfriend. Name’s Gilly Henderson. He’s, like, ten years younger than Mom. I hate him! He’s here all the time, lying around, drinking and belching. He gives me the creeps—’ ”
Olivia hugged a pillow to her chest as Brygitta read.
“ ‘—But Mom is all gaga—you know, some man is actually paying attention to her. But he’s real mouthy, bosses me around all the time. I haven’t told Mom yet, but I am NOT going to stay here with him around. I already asked Aunt Gerty if I could come stay with her and Uncle Ben in Madison as soon as school is out, and she said yes. She met the guy and doesn’t like him either. I’m just warning you, Livie—you don’t want to be in this house this summer, or you’ll go nuts! Want me to ask Aunt Gerty if you can come too? How long will you be in Chicago? Maybe I’ll come visit you. It’s not that far from Madison, is it? That’d be fun. Love you, your sis, Elin.’”
Brygitta looked up. “Whoa. You didn’t know anything about this new boyfriend, Livie?”
Olivia shook her head.
“Arrgh. Sounds like a loser. I’m so sorry, Livie.” Brygitta tossed the e-mail on the bed. “Your mom’s in Minneapolis, right? So where’s Madison? Like Madison, Wisconsin? That’s not very far from Chicago—only a few hours, don’t you think, Kat?”
But Kat wasn’t thinking about Madison, Wisconsin. She picked up Olivia’s e-mail and read it again, her thoughts tumbling. This was bad news for Livie and her sister. And yet . . . did she dare say it?
She reached out and touched Olivia’s arm hugging the pillow. “Livie, remember how we prayed together a few hours ago, that God would make it clear where you should be this summer? I think you just got your answer.”