Kicking Eternity Read online

  Aly burst out laughing.

  Cal’s crate thumped to the porch from where he’d been balancing on one edge. “Raine! I can’t believe you said that!”

  Raine shrugged. “An honest opinion.”

  “What do you think about Cal?” Aly asked.

  Aly’s question wrenched on the adrenaline spigot in her stomach and she could feel it snaking through her body. She scrounged for a normal tone. “You’re the second person to ask me that tonight.”

  “Who was the other person?” Cal said.

  “Your sister.”

  “Figures. And your final answer is?” Cal moved from the crate to the floor bringing him to her eye level.

  Never mind that Aly was sitting two feet from Cal, the bungee cord of attraction stretched taut between them. She shrugged as though she didn’t have a monster crush on him already. “…if you’re into surfers.”

  Cal smirked. “I’ll see if I can upgrade by the end of the summer.” He finished off the wine cooler with his eyes on her.

  Gar came around the edge of the laundry. “Hey.”

  Aly startled. “Mother of God!” She spun around on her seat to face Gar. “You scared me!”

  He looked at Aly, blinked once. “You ready?”

  Aly slid off the porch. “Later, you guys.” She walked into the shadows with Gar.

  Raine shifted uncomfortably on the rough boards of the porch. She looked at Cal, at the play of the moonlight on the waxy croton leaves, back at Cal. “Aly asked me to stop by—”

  “Don’t stress, Raine. I’m not dangerous.”

  That’s what he thought. “Tell me about the book you’re reading.” That should be a safe subject. The wind intensified, and she tucked her hands into her jacket pockets.

  “The guy is a preacher’s kid—”

  “I see the connection—”

  “A thinking man. He explores Zen Buddhism, Native American religions, and—of course—basketball. He colors outside the lines.”

  “Like you.”

  “I don’t get how you believe without checking out the options.”

  “I know God’s real. I talk to Him, and He answers me.” How did you explain God, especially to someone who’d seen it all and was still shopping?

  “One of my buds hears God talking to him, too, but not till the bottom of a jug of Southern Comfort.”

  “I don’t mean I hear His voice audibly. It’s more of an impression.”

  “Anyway, if Christianity is the option—it will stand up to scrutiny. Or it won’t. Is that what you’re afraid of?”

  Raine looked at him evenly. “It’s true.”

  “Whatever.”

  Wind gusted across the porch, and the sky opened up, spitting mist against Raine’s face. She scooted against the building and pulled her knees in tight to her chest. She shivered.

  With the rain sheeting against the porch roof, she didn’t realize Cal had slid over next to her till she felt the weight of his arm drop across her shoulders. She went still, almost afraid to breathe as the warmth of Cal’s body crawled through their clothing to her skin.

  It wasn’t like she’d never been this close to a guy. She’d had a boyfriend. But this was different. Jud wasn’t looking for a religion that would let him be his own boss.

  “You smell good,” Cal said somewhere near her ear.

  She felt the rumble of his voice in his chest. “Aly’s shampoo,” she blurted.

  The rain hammered the porch’s tarpaper roof, the sandy dirt, a two-foot swath of the weathered boards. She watched the water bounce crazily off the slick planks, memorizing the firmness of Cal’s chest against her arm, the feel of his fingers gripping her shoulder. For this moment, it was okay to be this close to Cal.

  “Sitting here with you in the rain makes me think of something Douglas Coupland said in Shampoo Planet.”

  Raine turned her face toward him.

  “He said we tempt fate by accidentally feeling too happy one day.”

  “Like if you’re completely happy, something’s bound to go wrong?”

  “Right.”

  She couldn’t see his eyes in the cloud-obscured moonlight. “You’re happy?”

  “Yeah, yeah I am.” His serious tone told her he was no longer toying with her. His fingers tightened on her shoulder. He leaned toward her, their lips inches apart.

  Raine didn’t breathe. She was caught in now, a willing prisoner. Her eyes found Cal’s jaw—dark with a day’s worth of stubble—his eyes, darker still.

  Part of her heard the rain pull out as quickly as it had come, retreating across the athletic field behind them.

  Cal leaned his head back against the slats of the building, his arm going slack around her. “Something will go wrong like the rain will stop.”

  The air emptied out of her lungs, and she breathed in reason. Maybe God’s stopping the rain was something going right. She eased away from Cal. Goose bumps along the path where Cal’s body had been cried for his warmth. But her brain was slogging to life now.

  “Thanks for being a gentleman and keeping me warm.” She rolled up onto her knees and stood, stiff from sitting so long. When Cal didn’t say anything, she looked back at him.

  “Being a gentleman was not what I had in mind.”

  “Good night, Cal.” She walked quickly back to her cabin, attraction and caution a jumble of sparking electric wires inside her.

  She tiptoed between the girls’ bunks trying to remember where the squeaky boards were till she got to her room. She didn’t bother turning on the light. Aly was usually out late. Raine slipped onto her knees.

  Forgive me for breaking the camp alcohol rule. She sighed. Lord, I need Your help to kill this crush. I should have asked a whole lot sooner! She stayed there on her knees wishing God would fry her feelings with a cosmic bug zapper. And why did she think she was a missionary when she couldn’t explain God to a guy who’d grown up with Him? Her words to Cal had been dead, sun-baked bits of bougainvillea scraping across the four-square court. Give my words Your power. Life.

  The door opened. Aly slipped into the room. The door shut.

  Aly tripped over Raine’s legs. “What the—are you praying?”

  “Not anymore.”

  Aly scooted onto Raine’s bed.

  She crawled onto the other end next to her pillow. She felt Aly move, heard the thunk of her shoe as it hit the floor. Was she drunk? The other shoe tumbled to the floor.

  “I have a question that’s been bugging me all evening.” Aly was still whispering. They both knew better than to wake up the younger girls in the next room. She didn’t sound drunk.

  “If you won’t disobey a speed limit sign, why did you take a drink of Cal’s wine cooler on camp property?”

  It felt like Aly had knocked all the air out of her lungs. “I was tempted, and I gave in. I asked God to forgive me right before you came in.”

  “Did He?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you feel great now, no guilt, no regret?”

  “I still feel bad about it.”

  “Well, I don’t—feel bad about breaking a camp rule. There are too many other… never mind. Why were you tempted?”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Doesn’t wash. I can always remember exactly why I was tempted.” Aly leaned toward her. “Cough it up.”

  “I wanted to fit in?”

  “Lame.” The sound of Aly tapping her fingers against her arm sounded loud in the silent room. “You’ve got the hots for Cal! And drinking after him was like—swapping spit.”

  She sucked in her breath.

  “Busted!” Aly burst out laughing and immediately smashed her hand across her mouth to muffle herself. The whole bunk bed shook with Aly’s now-silent laughter.

  Finally, she broke down and laughed with Aly.

  Aly stilled. “Maybe you aren’t so different from me. Maybe we can be friends.”

  A cloud passed by, and moonlight bathed Aly’s face. She leaned toward Aly. “The
n you won’t tell Cal?”

  Aly sobered. “Why don’t you want him to know? He’s a great guy.”

  Could she trust Aly? She took a breath and plunged in. “After you left tonight, Cal and I got into a spiritual discussion.”

  “No surprise there.”

  “We are so not on the same page. I didn’t realize how much till now.” She sighed. “Everybody doesn’t get to question their faith like Cal does. I haven't had the luxury for seven or eight years. I don’t know if Cal—or you, for that matter—can understand what it’s like to be so desperate you grab a stranglehold around God’s neck and hang on.”

  “Seven or eight years! What is it?” She heard an uncharacteristic tenderness in Aly’s voice.

  “Can you keep this to yourself? I’ve only told one other person.”

  “Yeah. I can.” Aly’s voice held resolve.

  “My—” She couldn’t hold it together. Silent sobs racked her body. Aly grabbed a roll of toilet paper and handed it to her. Then, she rubbed her back in circles till she was cried out.

  Eddie, the trip to Lost Lagoon with Drew, and their argument trickled out.

  When she stopped talking, they sat in the silence. The cabin creaked. Outside, crickets droned.

  “I’m so sorry, Raine. I feel helpless. There’s not a single thing I can do to fix things.”

  “You’re wrong. You let me cry. I didn’t have to cry alone.” She breathed in a ragged breath. “I actually feel better, like I could go to sleep now.”

  Aly reached over and hugged her neck, pressing their cheeks together. Somebody’s hair was smashed between them. Aly held on. “Raine I was so wrong about you. So very wrong.” Another second went by before Aly let go.

  “Wrong, how?”

  She heard Aly’s chuckle in the dark. “You do need a friend.”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling you!”

  Aly climbed into her own bunk. The bed creaked and Raine heard Aly’s voice nearby. “Thanks for trusting me. I won’t let you down. Night.” Her voice was soft.

  Raine lay back and rolled onto her side. Thank you, Lord! The pillowcase was cool against her face. Weariness from expelling emotion settled over her, a welcome blanket of peace, and she drifted toward sleep.

  What if Cal actually liked her? Her eyes popped open.

  Chapter 6

  Drew padded across tiny castles last night’s squall had sculpted in the sand. The sky had washed out gray with a ribbon of light lying on the horizon. He stopped to watch the first millimeter of a butter-white sun poke through the Atlantic.

  Morning, Jesus.

  Fourteen minutes from his alarm going off. Not bad.

  He glanced down the beach. Rainey’s dark bob moved toward the jetty. Her arms waved around in front of her as though she were talking to someone he couldn’t see. She hadn’t showed yesterday morning. She was probably still ticked at him.

  The pages of his Bible whispered through his fingers. Loneliness yawned and stretched inside him. Talk to me.

  A cord of three strands is not easily broken.

  Well, he’d broken it with Rainey. He sighed and read the verse again. He had friendship with Jesus. And, yeah, it was sweet, but someone visible would be nice. Jesse and Keenan were good, but he needed a friend who was a peer. Like Rainey.

  Notes and words flowed out of him like water out of the Cape Canaveral Canal Lock. At last, he slumped over his guitar and closed his eyes. “Amen.”

  When he opened his eyes Rainey stood a few feet away, looking uncomfortable. They both spoke at once. “Sorry I went off on you,” Rainey said.

  “Sorry I made you mad.”

  They exchanged uneasy smiles.

  “Forgive me?” He held his hand up to her.

  Rainey nodded. “Yeah.” She shook his hand. “I’ll think about what you said.”

  Silence pinged back and forth between them. Rainey’s eyes, green with pinpricks of light, matched the exact shade of the water sloshing on the sand. He sucked in fresh-washed air and blew out tension. Maybe Rainey could be that friend. He stood and dusted the sand off the seat of his shorts.

  Rainey gazed out to sea. “I wanted to ask you about something.” She looked back at him. “Cal says we should explore other religions, not accept what our parents taught us. How can I explain God? It’s like trying to explain Narnia to someone who’s never stepped through the wardrobe. I feel so—’untried,’ Cal called me.”

  “You’re tried alright.” So, she wasn’t telling Cal about Eddie. Something warm fizzed between his ribs. “But it won’t hurt to read up on other religions.”

  Rainey chewed on her bottom lip. He set his guitar into its case and flipped the latches shut.

  “I wish I’d listened better in my comparative religions class. All religions are about man reaching out for God. Christianity is about God reaching out to man. That’s what I remember. Pretty pathetic for a semester’s worth of classes.”

  “Sounds like you boiled the course into a one-sentence summary.” He glanced at her sneakers as they headed toward the seawall. His lips tugged into a smile remembering how embarrassed she had been when he teased her about her feet. Well, she wasn’t in a teasing mood today. Was it Eddie or Cal who weighed down this morning?

  He sat on the seawall bench and held a hand out to her. “You look like you could use some prayer.”

  Rainey sat beside him. “That’s the understatement of the week.”

  Drew squeezed her hand and looked at the sun inching higher in the sky. “Lord, please lift Rainey’s chin.” His eyes darted to hers. “Sorry, I forgot I’m not supposed to call you Rainey.”

  “It’s okay. I was mad the other night. I wanted to hurt you. That’s the first time in years Eddie’s used that name.” She smiled and the warmth spread through him as though the fizzing infiltrated his bloodstream.

  Her head dropped and her eyes slid shut. “Guide me as I study things Cal’s into. Rescue, Eddie.” Her voice caught. “Please.”

  “Yeah, and Rainey could use some peace. Hope.”

  Rainey tapped the top of his hand that held hers. He swiveled his eyes toward hers.

  “What do you want me to pray for?” Her eyes bore into him.

  He looked out across the water, and back at Rainey’s small hand resting loosely in his. He pushed the words out. “My brother left last week for Japan—for two years. I feel like he tossed my life out of the plane somewhere between here and Tokyo, and none of the pieces have landed yet.”

  Rainey dropped her chin to her chest. “Comfort Drew. Comforter is one of Your names, so I think You must be pretty good at it. And show Drew if he needs to make any course corrections.”

  “Amen.” Course corrections? He hadn’t thought of his situation that way. He looked out at the gulls dive-bombing for their breakfast and back at Rainey shoving strands of dark chocolate, ruby, and cobalt out of her eyes—from one kind of beauty to another. How about a course correction toward Rainey?

  Rainey’s hand slid out of his as she stood and he wished it back. They walked toward camp.

  “What do you sing on the beach?”

  His guitar case thumped against his back in rhythm with his steps. “Sometimes I sing songs. Sometimes I just sing.”

  “Do you ever write the words and music down?”

  “Never thought about it.”

  “Write them down.”

  His grin arced inward, lodging somewhere near his heart. “Bossy aren’t we? The perfect case of a person living up to her name. Raine.”

  “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name. I order you to call me Raine!”

  He stopped in the middle of the road and faced her. “Since when am I your subject, Rainey?”

  She stared back at him for a long moment, emotions he couldn’t read warring in her eyes. “Since never.”

  #

  Raine sat in her empty classroom cutting out patterns from purple construction paper for tomorrow’s Bible craft. Deep orange light splashed
across the table, and a mosquito buzzed through the open window. Raine waved it away with a multicolored sheaf of papers.

  “Hey, s’up?” Cal walked through the door.

  The hair on her arms and the back of her neck stood up. She’d waited until after supper to avoid being in the building in the afternoon when Cal taught classes. She hadn’t studied nearly enough to talk religion with Cal. “What are you doing here?”

  “What, I can’t stop in and say hello?”

  “I mean, now, when you don’t have class.”

  Cal shrugged and pulled out a chair across the table from her. “No waves.” He flipped the chair around and straddled it.

  Even with the table between them, he felt way too close. She obviously wasn’t making any headway killing the crush.

  Help!

  “Help?”

  Raine’s head jerked up.

  “Do you want some help cutting out—”

  Relief shot through her. “Crèches.”

  “Right.”

  “I was finishing up.” She gathered the cutouts into a pile. She’d only started ten minutes ago. Maybe a white lie was okay when she was trying to stay away from Cal. She would come in early in the morning instead of taking her walk on the beach.

  She grabbed her canvas bag. “I need to go. See you tomorrow. Thanks for the offer—” She avoided Cal’s eyes. She gave a little wave in his direction and walked across the classroom toward the door. Six more steps till she was safely out the door—away from his sharp mind that made her leap and pirouette to keep up, his citrus scent, the full lips she’d almost tasted. Three steps.

  “Raine.”

  She stopped, one foot in the hall, one foot in the classroom.

  “Why do you do this? You were like a normal person the other night on the laundry porch. Now you’re this automaton. Cold. I finally decide there’s a real girl under the Bible college babe. A girl I like. Then you see-saw? Why?”

  #

  Drew sat on a two-by-eight in the outdoor classroom along the tree line. He ran through the last song he needed to practice before elementary campfire. From where he sat, he’d seen Rainey head into the lodge by the back door soon after dinner. Later, Cal had gone in through the front door. And he hadn’t come out.