TREY COULD FEEL THE BATTLE RAGING FOR HIS SOUL. THE constant barrage of thoughts. Relentless accusations. Unending pressure. It was getting harder to escape, harder to fight.
“What are you doing?” Molly blew a bubble, glancing around. “I thought we were headed to my apartment.”
He’d pulled into a small park near home, cut the engine, and dropped his head on the steering wheel. “I need to think through some things.”
Fight through was more accurate, except the fight had dwindled. He was tired.
“Let’s walk,” he said.
Trey slipped his key from the ignition. They walked past a toddler playground along a short trail to an area of benches. He chose one closest to the waterfall. Over the years, it had become his thinking spot.
Molly pulled her feet up in front of her on the bench and hugged her knees, staring with him at the waterfall. She knew that in times like this, he didn’t feel much like talking.
Trey kept his gaze fixed, focused on the crossroads before him. He knew clearly the path of each—and which he should take. But he couldn’t do it in his own strength. Wasn’t God supposed to help him? Why wouldn’t He help him?
Stop waiting on God, Trey. Don’t you think you’ve waited long enough?
He definitely had, and he’d told God that.
I’m tired of waiting, Lord. I’m tired of trying to do everything right, and seeing nothing from You in return.
He’d cried out to God as he walked across campus this past spring, having just dropped all his classes.
How many prayers do I have to pray? How much pain do I have to endure? Huh? How is this fair? If You won’t help me, forget it. That’s where I’m at, Lord. I can’t take this anymore.
He’d made up his mind. He would take the path of least resistance. Smoking and drinking made it easier. Numb the pain. Silence the voices. Stoke his inner rebel until he no longer cared what God thought.
Why should I care anyway? You don’t care about me.
Exactly. Trey’s eyes welled. Part of him had hoped that dropping his classes would get God’s attention. Maybe He’d finally show up, do something. So he still waited, in a sense. He’d put boundaries on his current path, to go only so far. So he could easily turn when God tapped him on the shoulder.
But God was still nowhere to be found.
This is the path that makes sense. Stop constraining yourself and live.
Trey turned to Molly. “I’m moving to Atlanta in two weeks.”
“You’re what?” Her feet dropped to the ground. “How did that come about?”
“I told you about my high school classmates who are at Emory,” he said. “I might transfer. Meanwhile, they said I could come stay with them and see how I like it down there.”
Molly shook her head. “You said if you ever look to move away, I should make sure you talk to somebody.”
“I am talking to somebody.”
“You know what you said, Trey. One of your Christian friends.”
Trey waved her away. “That was a year ago. I don’t even hang with them anymore.”
“Your sister’s here now,” Molly said. “Why don’t you talk to her?”
“Kendra’s the last person I would talk to.”
“Why?”
“She’s never had a real problem,” Trey said. “Everything has always come easy for her: A’s in her sleep, cheerleading captain, gazillion friends—and boyfriends. She wanted to work for one of the biggest law firms in the world. Bam, she got it.” He looked away. “She’d never understand my struggles.”
“You can’t say she’s never had a real problem. You were supposed to be in DC right now, dancing at her wedding.”
“Perfect example,” Trey said. “Kendra’s fiancé breaks up with her, and it’s like the world ended—because she’s never been through anything. She comes home, all depressed, even has Lance tending to her.” He shook his head. “In a few months, she’ll be seeing somebody else, saying Derek was never worth anything anyway.”
“Okay then.” Molly folded her arms. “Talk to Lance.”
“Why are you on me like this? It’s not a big deal if I move to Atlanta.”
“We made a pact, Trey Woods.” Molly’s green eyes bored into him. “We said we’d be there for each other. You’ve been there for me when I’ve gotten weak and wanted to start sleeping around again. This is my chance to be here for you. You’re my best friend.”
Emotion choked her last words.
“You just had to go there.” Trey moved closer to her on the bench, put his arm around her. “You really care about me, huh?”
“I love you, you jerk.” She blew a big bubble. “Promise me you’ll talk to Lance. If you end up moving anyway, fine.” She elbowed him. “Promise me.”
“What am I promising to tell him exactly?”
“Everything.”
“What?” Trey rose up, frowning at her. “No way. Come on, Moll.”
“What’s the point otherwise?” Molly said. “You have to. That was the deal.”
“Are you sure I wasn’t high when I made that deal?” Trey blew out a sigh. “All right, whatever.” He sighed again. “I promise.”