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  “What are you doing?” I said, sitting next to her. “This is my car.”

  “I know,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for explaining everything to Principal Downing.” She still seemed pretty mad about the whole thing, but somehow she also seemed to mean it when she thanked me.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “We were both acting like jerks and it wasn’t worth someone getting expelled over it. Besides, I told her the truth. We were pulling it down the hall and it did fly onto the Skipper. It was both our faults. And I have a clean record, so it was better for me to do the talking.”

  “How can that be?” she said. “You’re always doing stuff like running through the graduation party in moon boots.” She seemed amused in spite of herself.

  “You know that I did that?” I asked, diverted.

  “Everyone knows,” Avery said. “I’m sure the administrators do too. But if they haven’t said something by now about it, they’re not going to.”

  “I wonder why they didn’t suspend me. Probably because they don’t think it would do any good. I think they warned the principal about me. I was a wild little kid in elementary school and so everyone always expects me to act like I’m insane.”

  “So that’s your secret?” Avery asked. “Low expectations?”

  “Yup,” I said. “Look how surprised you were when I took the fall for the Red Wagon Incident.”

  She looked at me thoughtfully. “I guess that’s true. But don’t you like getting so much mileage out of it? Making people laugh? People love that. They eat it up.”

  “I know,” I said. “I like it when people laugh at me, most of the time. I think the world is pretty funny. I really do. I mean, come on. Didn’t you even feel like laughing at all today?”

  Avery smiled. It had taken some doing, but we were on the same page, even if it was for only a minute.

  Just then, Andrea Beckett walked by on the way to her car. When she saw me with Avery, she hesitated for a second, then she marched right over to me. “This is for you,” she said, handing me a note with my name on it. She smiled at me and then headed for her car. I watched her go. I may have gone into slight cardiac arrest, but Avery brought me back into reality.

  “You like her, don’t you?” said Avery bitterly. “Everyone does.”

  “So what?” I said, tucking Andrea’s note into my pocket. “Are you going to freak out at me again, or do you want a ride home?”

  “Sure,” she said, “but I don’t live very far away.”

  “I know. I live right by you. I see you walking to school all the time.”

  We got into the car and I reached into the cup holder. It was empty. “Oh no,” I said. “Someone must have borrowed my car and forgot to put the keys back.”

  “You leave your keys in your cup holder and tell people about it? How naïve are you?”

  “Someone will give them back to me tomorrow. And if they don’t, I’ll have another set made. Everyone knows this is my car. No one would steal it. It’s ugly as sin.”

  “I guess that’s true,” she said, climbing out of the car.

  I got out too. “Hey, I will walk you home, though.”

  She shrugged her backpack over her shoulders. “All right then. Let’s go.”

  As we were walking, I realized that I owed her an apology for some of the things I’d said earlier. “Hey, Avery,” I said. “I’m sorry about saying stuff earlier. You know, the stuff about you smoking and not caring what people think and all of that. I shouldn’t have said that. I was being a total jerk. I take joking around and trading insults too far sometimes. I’ve been trying to work on it and I didn’t do so well today. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  She kept marching. “That’s okay. I wasn’t being a sweetheart to you, either.”

  We walked a few more steps when she turned to me. “Did you take the fall for me because you’re religious?”

  “Where did that come from?” I asked. “First of all, I told Principal Downing the truth. I did lose control of my little red wagon. Second of all, I am a Mormon, but how did you know that? We’ve never talked about it.”

  “I’ve been working on this article for the paper next month about different religions at Lakeview High. One of the girls I interviewed was Mormon and a lot of you guys hang out in that same crowd, like you and Ethan Beckett and his girlfriend. I started out the interview thinking that Mormonism was kind of weird.”

  “Thanks a lot,” I said, pretending to be outraged. Inside I was stunned. Wow. I guess you never do know who’s watching. It made me a little uncomfortable to think of the example I’d been setting for her. Even though I’ve been trying to not judge people by the front they present to others, especially since the night of the Homecoming game, I forget too often. Which is hard since I, personally, don’t always like being labeled as just a funny guy.

  “But Elizabeth—the girl I interviewed—was pretty cool. She seemed normal. Anyway, is your religion why you took the fall today?”

  “I guess you could say I did it because of my religion in a way, because my religion is a big part of who I am, but it’s not like I sat and thought, ‘I should do this because of church.’ It just kind of happened. I just wanted to do it. And I should have been nicer earlier and not been such a jerk. I’m sorry again about all of that.”

  “Okay,” she said. I wondered what was going on in her head. Maybe she was interested in Mormonism. Unlikely, but I decided to go for it.

  “Hey, do you want to come to church with me sometime?” I asked and held my breath.

  She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to stare at me. “Are you serious?”

  “Um,” I said. Maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea.

  She thought for a minute. “No,” she said, and started walking again. We were almost to her house. I didn’t quite know what to say. I opened my mouth to make some dumb comment about the wagon or the Skipper, but she spoke first. “I might come someday, though,” she said. “Ask me again sometime. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And she went inside.

  The next Friday the newspaper staff all chipped in and Avery and I went to Costco after school. We bought Mr. Thomas a pink Power Wheels Barbie car to deliver the newspaper stuff instead. He laughed really hard and then made Avery and me take it back to exchange it for a new red wagon.

  I haven’t seen the Skipper since (except for a papier-mâché eye I found later when I was hiding from Principal Downing under the bleachers—but that’s another story). May he rest in peace.

  I also haven’t asked Avery about coming to church again yet, but I am going to. I think I will know when it’s the right time.

  And I don’t know what to think about the note from Andrea. It was a thank-you note:

  David,

  I wanted to write and thank you for being a good friend on the night of the Homecoming Game. I apologize for taking so long to let you know that I appreciate what you did.

  Thank you,

  Andrea Beckett

  P.S. I bet you look stunning in that tiara.

  It’s not much, but I have a feeling it might be a good sign. Meanwhile, I’ve got to figure out a way to get that tiara back to her without seriously endangering my pride.

  May the force of the Skipper be with me.

  Chapter 12

  January

  Julie Reid

  “This has to be too good to be true,” I told Mikey. She looked up in surprise. She was unpacking her backpack so we could study for an English test and I was finishing reading a chapter in the Book of Mormon that she had given me for Christmas.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. “Something in the scriptures?”

  I thought about saying, “Everything.” The truth was it all seemed too good to be true. It seemed too good to be true that I had a best friend, someone who knew a lot about me and about my family and still liked me anyway. It seemed too good to be true that my signing up for choir had turned into a class that I liked and something that I might be really good at besid
es. It seemed too good to be true that I was so far removed from where I had been last year—hanging out with Everett. And now, the things that I was learning from Mikey and the missionaries—they all seemed too good to be true too.

  But specifically it was Book of Mormon that I thought might be too good to be true. “This whole chapter,” I said. “Alma 22.”

  Mikey got a big grin on her face. “Do you want to talk about it for a little while before we start studying?” She loves talking about the Mormon Church with me, with or without the missionaries. She’s really good about letting me bring it up and not pushing it on me, but she’s always ready to talk when I am. I can’t get over how much she knows about the Book of Mormon and the Bible and what she believes. Sometimes I worry that I’m too far behind and that I’ll never know as much as she does about being Mormon, but she keeps promising me that that doesn’t matter at all.

  “Sure,” I said. “That would be great.”

  “Let me find it in my scriptures,” she said. That was another thing. She often—not always, but often—had her scriptures with her. She had a matching set, with her name engraved on the covers of both the Book of Mormon and the Bible. I’d never known anyone who carried around religious books so they could look at them all the time. It seemed a little weird to me at first, but now it makes sense that you might need them for looking up stuff. She even takes a religious class called seminary before school starts. She says that her teacher is really good—it’s her boyfriend’s mom, of all people—and that she keeps things interesting even though it’s so early in the morning. I keep telling her I’ll come sometime, but it’s hard to get up before dawn!

  “Okay, Jules,” she said. “I’m ready. Where’s the part that’s too good to be true?”

  “Well, the first part is pretty great. I love how the king asks Aaron all the different questions and the way Aaron answers them. The king asks so many of the same questions I had: Is there a God? Is there anywhere we go after we die? What do I have to do to get to heaven? And then Aaron gives the answer in verse sixteen: ‘If thou desirest this thing, if thou wilt bow down before God, yea, if thou wilt repent of all thy sins, and will bow down before God, and call on his name in faith, believing that ye shall receive, then shalt thou receive the hope which thou desirest.’”

  I looked up at Michaela. I’m sure I had mispronounced things and I’m not the fastest or smoothest reader, but she never seemed to notice or say anything. “This is the part that seems too good to be true. How can I really be forgiven after everything I’ve done, just by repenting and praying?”

  “It is amazing,” Mikey said quietly. “It does seem too good to be true in a way that we could do so many things wrong and still return to heaven and still have eternal life and still receive so many blessings.”

  “How can that be?” I said. “How can it all work out so well?”

  “Because of Jesus Christ,” Mikey said. “He suffered for us and paid the price for our sins.”

  “That’s something that confuses me,” I admitted. “He died for us, but haven’t lots of people died for other people? I know that parents have died for their children and friends have died for each other. What is it that makes his death so much more important than all the other ones?”

  Mikey nodded as I spoke and said, “I remember having the same question. He did die for us and it was something special because he chose to die for us, even though he was the Son of God and very powerful. But that wasn’t all he did. He also suffered in Gethsemane, so much that he bled at every pore. He suffered for every single person’s individual sins and so, if we repent, he has already paid the price for us.” Her voice was quiet and awed. “In fact, it was such a hard thing to do that he prayed to Heavenly Father to release him from having to do it. But when he realized it had to happen that way, he chose to do it for us.” She turned to her Bible.

  “Here,” she said, handing it to me. “Read this part. Luke 22, starting in verse 40. This is where Jesus goes to the Garden of Gethsemane.”

  I read the verses slowly, wanting to make sure that I understood everything. Jesus really did ask Heavenly Father to let the cup pass from him, but he still suffered for us, even though it was agony beyond anything I could imagine. I read verses 43 and 44 once to myself, and then again out loud, wanting to hear them and make them even more real: “And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”

  For a moment, my heart ached. I couldn’t imagine either of my older brothers doing anything like that for me, but Jesus Christ, who Mikey and the missionaries both referred to as “our elder brother,” had done that for me. He knew even more about me than they did and chose to suffer for me anyway.

  There are two main times that I’ve suffered in my life. One of them I didn’t cause; the other one I did. The first time was the night when the police station called to tell my parents that Kevin was there and that he’d been arrested for killing a woman while he was driving drunk and stoned.

  That was a horrible feeling. It was beyond feeling sick, beyond feeling scared, beyond feeling sad.

  After that phone call, my mom seemed like she had gone very far away for a few days. She went down to the station, she talked to Kevin, and she made sure he had an attorney lined up. Then she started writing. It was a letter to the family of the woman in the car Kevin hit. For six or seven days, she sat at her desk in her bathrobe and wrote. She kept throwing the letters away and starting over.

  I stood in the doorway of her room and watched her once. She didn’t notice me, or if she did, she didn’t care. She would write a few lines, chewing on her bottom lip, and then she would stop and reread them. She would get angry about what she’d written because it wasn’t good enough and she’d throw the paper onto the floor and grab a new sheet. She was quietly crying almost the whole time she did this. The whole area around her desk was littered with letters.

  I stood watching her for a long time, but I didn’t know what to do. My stepfather came home and found me there. He gently but firmly made me go back to my room. I don’t know what happened to the letter. I don’t think she ever finished it. After a few days, she stopped trying to write, but it was still a long time before she seemed like she was going to be okay again. I knew that she kept thinking about the woman’s family, just like I did. I wondered if Kevin was going to destroy two families—mine and the one of his victim. I hated him.

  The time I caused my own suffering was when I was with Everett.

  My eyes filled with tears and I looked up at Mikey. She put her arm around me. “I still don’t understand,” I said. “Why would Jesus be willing to go through this for me? For my stupid, stupid sins?” I was crying harder. “Mikey, some of the things that I did when I was with Everett—they’re not just little things. How could Jesus be willing to take care of all of that for me?”

  “Because he loves you,” Mikey said simply. “He loves me too and did the same for me. I know. And I know that he truly loves you, mistakes and all.” She turned the pages in her Book of Mormon. “And once you are baptized and confirmed, you receive another special gift. The gift of the Holy Ghost.”

  “I know you and the missionaries keep talking about that, but what exactly does that mean?”

  “The Holy Ghost is often called the Comforter, because the Holy Ghost comforts you and gives you promptings or feelings about what you need to do and helps you. Here.” She pointed to a verse: Moroni 8:26. “I’m saying it badly, but this says it better.” She read, “‘And the remission of sins bringeth meekness, and lowliness of heart; and because of meekness and lowliness of heart cometh the visitation of the Holy Ghost, which Comforter filleth with hope and perfect love, which love endureth by diligence unto prayer, until the end shall come, when all the saints shall dwell with God.’”

  I didn’t say anything for a minute and Mikey was quiet too. If there was one thing in
the world I wanted, it was a Comforter. To never be alone, to always have guidance and love and help and assistance and peace.

  “What do you think?” Mikey asked softly.

  “It still seems too good to be true,” I said, and Mikey smiled at me. “But I can tell that it is true. I can feel it. He loves me even though he knows what I’ve done and the bad feelings I’ve had toward my brothers. I can feel that he loves me that much even though it’s kind of hard for my mind to understand it.”

  “He loves you that much and he knows you that well,” she said. “He knows how wonderful and important you are. He will help you through all your suffering because he understands it and you. He feels that way about every single one of us. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “I want to get baptized,” I said. I could see Mikey’s face light up with surprise and happiness, reflecting what I was sure was on my face too. “I’m going to ask my parents tomorrow.”

  •••

  I don’t think I’ve woken up so many times in one night since I was a little girl and it was Christmas Eve and I was waiting for Santa to deliver presents under the tree. I wore my watch to bed so that I could check the time. 1:15 a.m. 3:43 a.m. 4:02 a.m. Finally it was 6:00 a.m. and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I went downstairs to get some cereal and wait for my parents to come down. They are usually early risers, even on a Saturday, and I kept looking at the kitchen door, hoping that they would come through and I could tell them my decision.

  I sat on the bar stool at the counter, swinging my feet impatiently. I looked out the big kitchen window to the trees beyond. It was dark and I could only see a little outside, just what the kitchen light and the very faint light of dawn revealed. It was like my belief in the Church, I thought. I couldn’t see everything yet and some of what I could see was because Mikey was illuminating it for me. But I could see enough to take that first step outside of myself and into something new. I turned away from the window to see my mother walking into the kitchen.

  She smiled at me. “You’re up early,” she said.