44. The Gift
“Do you believe in God, Chris?”
These are not the words I’m expecting out of Jocelyn the moment the doors shut and she starts up her car.
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? Do you?”
As she backs out of the parking space, I wonder what to say.
“Don’t think about it, just answer the question.”
I commit. “No.”
“You need to. You have to. You really have to.”
She grabs my hand. She’s beaming and seems to shake with excitement.
“What happened?”
“A miracle,” she says, taking her hand back and brushing back her hair.
I stare at her lips for a moment and find myself getting lost in them.
“I tell you, it’s a miracle.”
“What is?”
“You, Chris. You’re the miracle.”
Either she’s on some strange drugs or somebody has brainwashed her.
“I’m lost,” I say.
“I know. It’s fine. I just had to tell you that. And have to say that God works in mysterious ways.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because of you, Chris. Because of you.”
We drive for almost an hour. Jocelyn says that she wants to get far away from Solitary, so she drives to Asheville. Mom and I drove through it on our trip here.
I try to press Jocelyn for more info, but none comes. She says she wants to talk to me face-to-face and tell me what’s happened. As she drives, the sun starts to fade away and the shadows begin to smother the inside of the car.
“You hungry?”
“No,” I say.
“Teenage guys are hungry all the time.”
“I left my appetite at school.”
Along with reality.
“Come on. Let’s get something to eat. I’ve gone on a lot of dates here.”
I think of all the “dates” I’ve gone on. I don’t know how many actually count.
“A lot of older guys have asked me out. Some not knowing my real age. It happens, you know.”
“Yeah.”
But I don’t know. I’m new to this.
We end up at a cool burger joint with modern furniture and snug booths and a rocking vibe. The burgers have unique pairings like pineapple and barbecue sauce or eggs and jalapeños, the latter of which I decide to try.
My questions are building.
Half her hamburger is gone before she takes a sip of her drink and then says, “Okay.”
“Okay, what?” I ask.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what’s going on. I can see it all over your face.”
“What?”
“Confusion.”
“Yeah, well, for the last couple of weeks—”
“I know, I know,” she says. “Just hear me out.”
“Okay.”
“How’s your burger?”
“I want to hear you out,” I say, adding, “It’s good.”
“You need to know, you do have friends at this school.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said that everybody wants to keep you away from me. Not everybody.”
“Maybe not Rachel.”
“There are others too.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because someone gave me this.”
She produces my letter, which looks like it’s been trampled on and wrinkled and tossed about.
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you who.”
“When?”
“Today. This afternoon.”
“Where’d they get it?”
“They didn’t say. They didn’t say anything except that I would want to read it.”
“I wrote that a week ago.”
Jocelyn touches my arm. “It’s beautiful. I don’t think anybody has ever said such kind things to me.”
“I didn’t even know if I was going to give it to you. Then Gus and his friends confronted me in the bathroom and tried to pound my face in, and I ended up running out on them. The letter was in my notebook and got left behind.”
“It was unbelievable, what you said. I read it three times in a row. And that’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“There’s so much to tell you, I don’t know where to begin.”
She takes another bite and finishes it, never taking her eyes off mine.
“First off, first and foremost, I’m sorry about the last two weeks.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“No. Don’t you dare apologize, Chris. You didn’t do a thing wrong. You treated me like a lady and you behaved like a gentleman, and my problem was that I didn’t recognize it. That’s my problem—one of many. But how you acted and how you’ve been—and now this note. It takes my breath away.”
“You take my breath away,” I blurt out.
“Thank you.”
“That sounds corny.”
“Not the way you said it. Not the way you looked when you said it.”
“Probably like a ten-year-old.”
“Maybe twelve.”
“Maybe,” I say with a laugh.
“This week has changed everything.”
“How?”
“I can’t explain. There’s too much. I don’t want to explain everything—not yet.”
“Why didn’t you talk to me these past two weeks?” I ask.
“Because I’ve been scared.”
“Why? I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, I know that. I’ve known that all along.”
“Then why? I don’t get it.”
“Because I’ve been falling for you and falling hard. And I finally realized it, and it absolutely terrified me.”
Hearing her say that, watching her say that, terrifies me.
I can’t believe this.
The last couple hours are all like some dream I’ll wake up from.
God, if you are up there, then please, please, please let me get what I want.
“Then why did you ignore me?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” Jocelyn says.
“You won’t. How can you?”
“All I know is this. This is the truth: God sent you to me. He used you in the most amazing way ever. Do you believe in destiny?”
“I’m not sure. I’d say no.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t either until it slapped me on the face, and I woke up and saw a beautiful, brilliant sunrise and realized that every day we have is a gift. And every smile that comes along is a gift too.”
I’m totally lost.
Who is this person, and where did Jocelyn go?
“Not sure what to say.”
Jocelyn finishes her meal, then puts the basket over my half-eaten meal. “Don’t say anything. Just know this. You’re the gift that came along. You and your words.”
She stands then and urges me out of the booth.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”