why did he storm away like that? I asked myself as Branson left Payton’s side.
She looked concerned, like she wanted to continue their conversation. When he didn’t come back, she relaxed on the couch and continued watching the football game on TV.
I crossed the room and plopped down beside her. “OK, tell me everything,” I whispered. “What did he say? Will he take me back? Does he want me? Can we work it out?”
“He’s gonna think about it,” she said without taking her eyes off the television. When the play ended, she turned to me. “Look at yourself. You’re all worked up over this guy. Just enjoy the party. Go have some fun.”
I knew her advice made sense. But how could I relax? I wanted to grab Payton’s arm and force her to help me get Branson back.
Frustrated, I went back to the bar and did something I knew I’d probably regret later, but at the moment I didn’t care. “Can I have a wine cooler, please?”
I downed the drink quickly, then ordered another. After the second one, I had an enormous headache, and my heartache didn’t feel a bit better.
When I stood up, my head felt foggy and my legs wobbled. I tried to walk over to Payton to tell her I wanted to leave, but before I could take two steps, I fell flat on my face on the floor. The loud thump attracted everyone’s attention, and when I looked up, I saw Branson staring at me, shaking his head sadly.
I tried to get up, but my wobbly knees had rug burns and really hurt. I looked around for Jill or Mandelyn or somebody to help me. But everyone had abandoned me, leaving me alone on the floor. I started to cry.
The tears flowed and flowed, and I couldn’t stop them. My weeping grew louder. People were glancing at me like I was a disgusting loser, but I couldn’t help myself.
Suddenly a group of people came out of the game room, all chatting about the final score. When Payton saw me sitting on the floor wailing, she stopped in midstride, a shocked look on her face. Just before she reached me, my stomach churned violently and I threw up all over her shoes.
Everyone in the room, including the group who’d just finished watching the football game, groaned in disgust and scrambled outside for some fresh air. Payton stepped around the mess I’d made, reached under my armpits, and lifted me up, half carrying me to the bathroom.
After she got the two of us cleaned up, she led me out a back door. The fresh air sobered me up a little as we headed toward the dorm together. But I still had trouble keeping my balance. As Payton badgered me about drinking, I watched the sidewalk carefully, trying to walk in a straight line.
Though my head was still pounding, I started to feel silly. For some reason I couldn’t stay on the sidewalk. My feet simply wouldn’t go where I wanted them to. I started to giggle. I laughed harder, twirling and weaving and dancing to the music in my head.
An uneven spot in the concrete tripped me up and I tried to catch my balance, but the curb got in my way. I felt Payton grab my arm and yank me hard.
“What’d you do that for?” I asked, staring at her.
“You almost got run over by a car, you idiot!” she yelled.
“I did?” I said stupidly, staring at the road.
“If I hadn’t been here, you’d be a bloody mess on the street right now,” she said sternly. “You wanna die? Or go into a coma? Or be paralyzed for the rest of your life just because you thought alcohol would make your heartache go away?”
Being reminded of Branson, combined with the realization that I’d almost thrown away my whole life, brought me down from my giddiness fast. “You don’t have to lecture me,” I grumbled. “I feel bad enough already.”
“I hope you do!”
“Look,” I said, “I’ll be OK. I just have to get back to the dorm and sleep it off.”
“That’s not all you have to do,” Payton said, continuing her lecture. “You need to learn how to deal with disappointment. You’ve got to turn things over to God. Trust me, Laurel, no guy is worth drowning yourself in booze over.”
When we finally reached the dorm room, I took a long, hot shower. When I got out of the bathroom, Payton was gone, but there were two aspirin and a cup of water on my nightstand. I smiled at my friend’s thoughtfulness and took the pills.
On my bed I found a note from Payton telling me her dad had come to take her home for the Labor Day weekend. “Get some rest,” she advised.
As I crawled into bed, I thanked God for giving me a friend who cared so much about me.
I stayed in my room for most of the three-day weekend, only going out to stock up the refrigerator. I didn’t want to see anybody or talk to anyone. I just wanted to sleep. And relax. And pray. Mostly pray.
But my prayers felt empty. I missed Branson. I wanted him. I needed him. My life was incomplete without him. I couldn’t wait for Payton to get back from her parents’ house so she could tell me what he said about us getting back together.
On Monday evening, as I was taking yet another nap, the jiggle of the doorknob startled me. When the door opened, I saw Payton standing there with her bags in her hand.
“Welcome back,” I said, jumping up to help her with her bags.
“Thanks,” she said, accepting my assistance.
I sat on my bed, scratching my unwashed hair, watching her unpack.
“You feeling better?” Payton asked. “Or are you still stressing out about Branson?”
I went to the refrigerator and got out a can of soda for her. “I slept a lot and prayed a lot. So yeah, I do feel better. But…” I handed her the drink.
“You’re still dying to know what he said to me at the party, right?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
She took several gulps. “All right.” She sat on her bed and took another long drink.
I stared at her. “Well? Do I have a chance with him or not?”
She sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but he said you two want different things, and he doesn’t want to compromise.”
I collapsed onto my bed.
“Laurel,” Payton said, coming over and sitting beside me, “you’ve got to get over that jerk.”
“No,” I said, looking up at her with teary eyes. “We’re meant to be together. Don’t you understand? I just need to find out what he wants and … give it to him.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Branson.” I stood, ready to go find him that minute.
Payton pulled me back down. “What do you think that would prove? You’ll just add more misery to the situation. You know God wouldn’t be pleased.”
I sat down on the bed again, disgusted by what I had just been thinking. “I know you’re right. How could I even consider compromising my beliefs over Branson Price?”
My stomach started to hurt like I had cramps. I got off the bed, fell to my knees, and sobbed.
“Lord,” I heard Payton whisper, “You’ve got to help Laurel, ‘cause I don’t know what to say.”
Her words echoed in my heart. Lord, You’ve got to help me. I don’t know what to do. I couldn’t pray. I couldn’t get off my knees. I couldn’t even catch my breath.
I knew I loved Branson with all my heart or I wouldn’t be in so much pain about losing him. Part of me would be lost forever if Branson and I went our separate ways for good. Maybe that would be for the better. But at the moment it hurt. I felt like I was dying.
Branson and I had talked about getting married all through high school. We’d discussed our wedding plans. The children we were going to have. Our house, our cars, our wonderful life together. Now it had all vanished.
Payton laid her hand on my shoulder. “Lord, Laurel and I are both hurting over boyfriend issues. Please show us what to do. We’re coming to You with broken hearts that need mending. Guide us and give us direction. Help us to relax and know that You are in control. We love You and we praise You. Amen.”
As she prayed, relief filled my heart. When I got off my knees, I felt renewed hope. I gave Payton a long, tight hug and thanked her for her prayer and her friendship. Then I went to my dresser and picked out some clothes to wear.
“Hey, something just came to me,” Payton said. “On my way into town today, I saw a church that was having a revival. I don’t know anything about that place, but as I was praying just now, it occurred to me that maybe you and I should check it out. What do you think?”
“Sounds great,” I said. “Let’s go tonight.”
_____________________
That night, Payton led me to the little chapel she’d seen. It was called Bald Rock Baptist Church. On the sign behind the pulpit, the B in Bald and the c in Rock were missing. That distracted me a little but not as much as the fact that I was the only white person in the whole congregation.
I hated to admit it, but I felt uncomfortable. The worship was too charismatic for my taste. Folks were screaming, fainting, sweating, running up and down the aisles, and speaking in tongues. I slouched in my seat at the end of the pew and tried to blend in.
I looked at Payton and saw a frown of skepticism on her face too.
A large balding man came running down the aisle, all out of breath, and fell to the ground right next to my purse. I wondered if he was trying to get into it. I hated thinking that way, but I didn’t know these people.
When the man picked himself up and headed farther down the aisle, I picked up my purse and clutched it tightly. I didn’t have much money, but what I did have I wanted to keep.
The choir sang “Give Me a Clean Heart.” I’d heard the song before but never that way. They were singing with a beat and swaying to the music. It was actually pretty awesome. The words spoke to my soul, and I remembered I was in church to be renewed and revived, not to judge and condemn. I needed to be inspired and uplifted.
The song mentioned staying focused on God. That’s what I needed to do. I wanted my heart to be focused on God. I wanted it to be clean and strong. I wanted to be revived so I could serve God with a pure heart.
Two ladies in the front jumped up and started clapping their hands as they swayed back and forth. My spirit wouldn’t let me sit any longer. I stood up and started moving to the beat. The rhythm flowed through my soul. I was excited. This wasn’t about me. It was about God answering my prayers by giving me what I needed, not just what I thought I wanted. I needed Him to grant me internal things, like peace, faith, and love. And a clean heart. So that’s what I asked Him for.
The tension between Payton and me vanished. When the song ended, we smiled at each other.
A pastor in a blue robe got up from his chair on the podium and approached the pulpit. He spoke passionately about Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” As he spoke, I knew God was speaking to me. He was telling me I could do nothing on my own, but through Christ all things were possible. “All things,” the pastor explained, included whatever God wanted for me. I claimed that promise as my own.
_____________________
I left the church that night with hope in my heart. Unfortunately that hope lasted for about a week. By the time Sunday came around again, I was feeling deflated and depressed. I wanted to go to church again, but I wasn’t sure the Baptist church was the best place for me to attend on a regular basis.
I didn’t know how to find the right church, so I called my dad. He recommended a nondenominational one near the campus. On Sunday morning, I dragged Payton there.
I was sure she felt just as uncomfortable in the all-white congregation as I had at the black church. But this worship service was more like what I was used to. The building was new looking and the congregation was much more laidback. The parishioners looked refined in their dressy clothes, but they weren’t too uptight to rejoice. The lyrics to the hymns were projected onto a big screen, and when the people sang, there was no swaying or shouting, just lifting voices to God in praise.
When the choir started singing “There’s a Sweet, Sweet Spirit,” Payton loosened up a little and started singing along.
I was wondering if this would be my new home church even before the pastor approached the pulpit. I felt connected to God and refreshed. I knew my heavenly Father was in that sanctuary.
When the pastor gave us the Word, I felt even more at home. He spoke from Isaiah 40:31. “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength,” he quoted. “They shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”
He talked about waiting times, when you’ve asked God for something and you have to wait for Him to give it to you.
I’d asked God for Branson. Deep in my heart I wanted God to fix our relationship. I wanted Him to change Branson’s heart so he would stand with me for Christ. But if that’s not what He wanted, I needed God to give me the strength to be happy with His will for my life.
“Turn with me to Psalm 13,” the pastor said.
Payton and I opened our Bibles and started flipping the pages.
“Let’s look closely at this passage. David was frustrated with waiting for something in his life. In the first two verses, he asked the Lord why God hadn’t changed his situation.” The pastor seemed to look directly at me. “Are you waiting for God to do something? Are you angry that what you want hasn’t happened yet? It’s OK to be angry with God. David was. The Lord knows what you’re thinking. He wants you to talk to Him about it. Don’t respond to your anger by drinking or getting depressed or shouting at your family. Instead, just tell God how you feel.”
I felt like God was talking straight to me. I had been so depressed about Branson that I’d actually resorted to drinking a couple of wine coolers. I knew God could change Branson’s heart like He’d changed David’s. I was angry about things not working out the way I wanted them to. I was glad to hear this pastor say that it was OK for me to feel that way.
“But David didn’t stop there,” the pastor continued. “In verses 3 and 4, he asked God to reveal to him what he was doing to block the blessing he wanted.” Again, the pastor seemed to look right into my eyes. “Are you blocking your blessing? If you are not reading the Bible faithfully, fasting, and praying, you are not doing what is necessary for God to move in your life.”
I’d been doing some ungodly things the last few days. Instead of trying to convince Branson to take me back, and then turning to alcohol when that didn’t work, I should have fasted, claimed Scripture, and trusted Him with everything. I needed to work on my relationship with Christ. How could I be a great girlfriend, for Branson or anybody else, if my heart wasn’t right with God?
“Verses 5 through 6,” the pastor went on, “say that while David waited, he praised God, even though he didn’t have what he wanted. Isaiah 40:31 tells us that those who wait upon the Lord will fly with the eagles. They won’t get weary when they run. Praise God! He is awesome and He loves you. Even if He doesn’t do another thing for you ever, you’ve got enough to praise Him for. Decide today to be renewed, to wait God’s way.”
As I sat in that pew, I decided to accept the pastor’s challenge. I knew God would help me deal with waiting. I was through with being sad. I was going to praise God for everything.
_____________________
“I can’t believe that tramp!” Payton screamed as she came into our room and slammed the door.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, taking a break from polishing my nails at the desk Payton and I shared.
She started pacing around the small room, mumbling angry words under her breath.
Putting down the bottle of clear fingernail polish, I stood in front of Payton, blocking her path. “Either calm down or tell me why you’re so upset.”
Red eyes, burning with hatred, bore into mine. “You want to know why I’m angry? I’ll tell you in one word: Jewels.”
“What did she do this time?” I asked.
“She came on to Dakari!”
“Your ex-boyfriend?” I asked in shock.
“I was out there in the hallway talking to him, and that… that chick cut in and practically threw herself at him.” Payton started pacing again. “And she’s not the only one acting like a fool over my man. You know, ever since Dakari started making a name for himself out there on the football field, all these white girls have started throwing their long, stringy hair all over his fine black body. I’m sick of it!”
I didn’t necessarily agree with her on the race thing, but Jewels knew Dakari was involved with Payton. I had no idea why she would get in the middle of that. Then again, Jewels didn’t care about anyone except herself. And Dakari was really popular. Jewels probably wanted the kind of attention he was getting. I knew she couldn’t really like Dakari. She’d been very clear, on the first day I met her, that she didn’t want to even share a room with a black girl. Surely she wouldn’t date a black guy.
Payton bent over the dresser, grasping the edges so tightly her knuckles were white. I had no idea what to say to her. How could I help her calm down when I was angry too?
I placed my hand on Payton’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about Jewels. Dakari probably doesn’t even know she exists.”
She turned around and looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears. “He was flirting back with her.”
I took a tissue from the box on the dresser and handed it to her. “I’m sure he was only doing that to get to you.”
“Do you think so?” she said, blotting her eyes.
“This is your chance to let Dakari know that you don’t want him to be with anybody but you. If he’s going out of his way to get you riled up, that’s a clear sign that he cares.”
“I don’t think so.” Payton threw the tissue into the waste basket forcefully. “They made a date.”
I stifled a gasp. How could even Jewels be so insensitive?
“Look,” I said, “you need to get your mind off this. Let’s go out tonight. Just you and me.”
“No,” she grumbled. “I’ve got a lot of studying to do. Besides, I wouldn’t be very good company.”
“I’ve got work to do too. How about we go to the library? Then we can grab a bite to eat afterward.”
“I don’t know,” she said, although I could tell she was tempted by my offer.
“Come on. You’ve been there for me. Now let me be there for you.”
She gave me a small grin, then shrugged her shoulders. “All right,” she agreed.
After an hour or so of studying at the library, Payton and I went out for dinner and then to a movie. We chose a sappy chick flick, hoping it would make us both feel better.
When we got back to the dorm, I considered having a talk with Jewels to see if she really planned on going through with the date she’d made with Dakari. But she was still so mad at me over the pledge class president nomination, I didn’t figure she’d give me a straight answer. My interference might even push her into taking things a step further.
Besides, Dakari was a jerk to make a date with Payton’s suite mate in the first place. I wanted to throw him, and Branson, into quicksand.
While Payton was in the bathroom taking a shower, I lay on my bed, crying. Branson hadn’t been answering my calls. He’d made it clear to Payton that he didn’t want to see me. He was going on without me, but it seemed that my life could not go on without him. I’m sick of this, I thought as I punched the mattress. Why can’t 1 get over him?
Payton came out of the bathroom wearing jeans and a nice blouse, her hair and makeup all done up like she was going out. When she saw me crying, she said, “You still whining about that boy? Look, girl, you’ve got to get over it and move on. That’s what I’m gonna do.” She tossed her dirty clothes into the hamper.
“But I can’t stop loving Branson,” I wailed.
“Girl, you ain’t trying hard enough.”
“I’m not as tough as you are,” I said.
“Well, you’d better get tough,” she said, grabbing her purse, “or you’re gonna spend your whole life crying into your pillow.” She strutted out of the room, whistling.
I stared at the door, wondering if Payton was really over Dakari or just putting on a brave front. Then I wiped my cheeks and tried to compose myself like Payton obviously had. Maybe I should take a shower too, I thought. It had seemed to work wonders for my roommate’s outlook.
I forced myself off the bed and started looking for a towel when I heard a tentative knock at the door. Before I could answer it, the door opened slowly and Julie Anne peeked inside.
“Mind if I come in?” she asked.
I really didn’t want to get into sorority stuff at that moment, but I didn’t want to offend the Alpha Gamma Delta president, so I nodded. She came in and closed the door softly.
“I ran into your roommate in the hall,” she said. “She told me you were down about a guy.” She sat on my messed-up bed. “Want to talk about it?”
Julie Anne was the last person I wanted to air my dirty laundry to. I wanted to impress this girl by showing her my strengths, not let her see my vulnerabilities and weaknesses. Besides, she was Jewels’s sister. How could I be sure she wouldn’t go blab about my pain to a suite mate who was mad at me and might somehow use that knowledge against me?
Julie Anne reached up and touched my arm. “You need to let this out to someone. I promise, anything you share with me will stay between us. As sorority president I have private and personal discussions with girls a lot, and I understand the importance of confidentiality.”
I hesitated, still not sure if I could trust her but really wanting to talk to someone who wouldn’t tell me to “just get over it” like Payton had.
Julie Anne patted the space next to her on the bed. “I hate to see such a strong, vibrant girl like you feeling down. If I can help, I really want to.”
I sat on the bed and started opening up. I ended up talking nonstop for about a half hour. When I finished complaining about my life, Julie Anne told me about all the great things I had going for myself and how I didn’t need to feel like a broken romantic relationship was the end of the world.
I had to admit, her pep talk did make me feel a lot better. I thanked her for listening and for offering me compassion.
“No problem,” she said, standing. “Any time you need to talk, I’m here for you.”
After she left I got on my knees beside the bed. “Lord, thank You for sending Julie Anne to me,” I prayed aloud. “I’m tired of struggling. I want to have joy. I want my heart to be free. Please help me. I’m turning all this anxiety over to You. I love You so much, God. No one loves me unconditionally the way You do. I’m ready to start trusting in that love. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
When I got up I felt revived. After pulling a soda out of the refrigerator, I opened my Bible. I knew what I needed to do to keep myself from being depressed, to stay happy and upbeat. The key was taking the time to worship. I was desperately needing His direction.