There Must Be Something More

114 | The Old Diner Place

"Now what are we gonna do?" Samuel scowled. "We just lost one soul. That means in our last lecture, we'll need to win at least two souls for Jesus or we're not able to borrow that copier machine."

Meredith looked up at him with a nostalgic smile. "Honestly, Charlie's right. It's not about the photocopier machine anymore. I don't care if we have to spend a lot of money in some printing shop just to print Gospel tracts and booklets if we don't get to borrow the school's photocopier machine. I care more about winning the lost. This is more about the souls now. I don't just want two saved souls! I want multitudes!"

Samuel blinked. "Multitudes sounds kinda many."

"And that's why I wanna go on with this lecture," Meredith said. "Win or lose."

I smiled.

"But I prefer to win," she added, smiling wide. "God never loses."

I smiled and patted her on the shoulder.

Out of nowhere, a girl walked through the double doors of the Grace Club room. This girl wore a white dress shirt and a black box-pleated skirt and had shoulder-length, straight dark brown hair. 

Meredith and I exchanged confused glances.

If it hadn't been for the pepper of freckles on the bridge of the girl's nose and cheeks, and that gray-colored downturned eyes.

I blinked too many times. "Alex?"

She seemed to blush. "I know. It was kind of hard to recognize myself too."

"You... you changed your hair color too," Trey stammered.

Alex ran her hand down her hair sheepishly. "Yeah..."

Meredith grinned and tackled the girl in a hug. "You look beautiful! But you already looked beautiful with your red hair too."

She does look beautiful, I thought in agreement.

"I just thought I needed a little change." She chuckled nervously. "I remember, being in the Science Committee, I never cared how I look. I didn't even bother to look at myself in the mirror much. But now that I met the Lord, I'm slowly seeing myself in a different light. I'm seeing myself as God's image. And I want to take care of that by taking care of myself. So I had my hair treated and stuff, had it colored, I just thought brown looks neat. And bought nice clothes for myself."

Meredith grinned. "That's great! Plus, you're now part of the Team Brunette club!"

I smiled. "There's a team for that?"

Meredith giggled. "There is now!"

*************************

"What about you? Do you wanna change your look too?" I chuckled as I turned to a curb. I had agreed to drive Meredith home since Grandpa Chuck had to borrow her car since his broke down just last night.

Meredith chuckled and shrugged. "I like how I look. I don't see a reason to change it."

"Not even makeup? You know, like Alex. She's put on a little bit of makeup, I noticed."

"That's her conviction," she smiled. "I just don't want to put anything on my face."

I shrugged and gave her a glance. "Well, you already look great the way you are. The same with Alex."

Meredith looked at me funny. "You have been complimenting Alex since a while ago. Too bad she's not here to hear."

I blushed. "Just... appreciating her change. That's all. Am I not allowed to?"

Meredith rolled her eyes, smiling. Then she tilted my head to face the road. "Keep your eyes focused."

*********************************

I stared at the patch of paper, the short letter I received from an anonymous person.

Meet me in Jackson's Potatoes. After school.

I admit I hadn't told anyone about this. I reckoned even Trey forgot about it. I didn't want anyone restraining me from meeting this mysterious person. In a way, I was compelled to.

Who could it be?

I dropped off Meredith first before turning to a street, headed to the old and abandoned Jackson's Potatoes place.

Jackson's Potatoes was a diner Calum, Amanda, and I loved to hang out in. The eatery wasn't very popular. Only true Clarkdale locals knew about it, and not even a lot. But it was a place the three of us loved because it almost had nothing but potatoes on the menu. And our favorite--their special tater tots. The owner, Jackson Weissman, called it Clarkdalian Taters. Because there wasn't anything like it in all of America. We felt sorry for those who didn't live in Clarkdale.

The ingredients for the Clarkdalian Taters weren't really anything special--they're still grated potatoes  formed into small cylinders and deep-fried. But when you get a bite--you'll know there isn't anything like it in the world!

The thought of it made my stomach grumble. I sighed. There was no craving for it now--the diner has been closed for two years.

Now the lot had become a parking space for teenagers who used this place for making out and everything inappropriate. 

I scanned around the old diner place and the small building is already rusted and in ruins. Borders of plywood have been nailed all around. Graffiti vandalized the peeling paint. And tall, overgrown weeds spiked the entrance.

Taking a deep breath, I parked my pickup in front of the old building and turned the engine off.

Who would want to meet here? I thought in bewilderment.

I bet it's Calum. He probably wants to beat me up here. He's probably bringing Randy and Cleveland and the other baseball guys.

Cringing, I jammed my keys in the ignition, all ready to get out of there. Then a voice--

"You came!"

With a jolt, I turned around to see Amanda, trotting towards my pickup.

Maybe I haven't described much of Amanda to you. Amanda Jeung is a tall girl towering at six-feet. I was six-foot-one. We were close. She had short, straight black hair and dark brown eyes. She's half-Korean, half American. 

And today, like all days, she wore a plain green T-shirt, black jeans, and that famous copper-colored Timberland boots.

She hugged me as soon as I stepped down from the pickup.

"You sent me the letter?" I said in amazement.

Amanda chuckled nervously. "Yeah. I can't believe you actually came!"

"Because you asked me to?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

She giggled. "I mean, yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually go. Isn't this place a little creepy?"

"Yeah," I said. "So why here?"

She smiled wistfully. "I mean, this was a memorable place to us, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah." And looked around the old diner.

"And I bought us some hash browns from Chick-fil-A, they kinda looked like those Clarkdalian Taters back in the day, and we can eat it there by the sidewalk," she said. 

This was all so weird. Why would Amanda bring me out here? And Why was she being so nice?

"I'm scared," I told her.

Amanda looked surprised, then she pursed her lips. "I know this is weird. But... I have something really important to tell you."

Now I was going to know why I was so compelled to go.