Trapezoid (The Base)

Chapter 16

Chris couldn't put into words how refreshing it felt to be in the usual world once again. It was such a perfect Saturday afternoon with a cloudless sky. She absorbed the sights around her as though it hadn't been her hometown ever since she could remember. Having a seat near the window of a café, she watched humanity speed, stroll, and hurry past. It was too bad all this was just for the weekend.

Her attention was turned by the table ahead of her. She felt a smile tugging on her lips.

Teenagers.

They totally disturbed the aura of the café when they all erupted at some private joke, earning them a couple of disapproving glances. She giggled as one of the boys choked over his milkshake. She felt a tug on her heart—missing that type of company. She missed her life as a teacher. Things had been easier then—even though she would've disagreed at that time. She'd wake up every morning and groan. She had seen the occasional cocky kids as trials and Mrs. Blake as her faith tester. Man, those were days of blue skies!

Even then, she'd loved her job—but now she hated the one she had. The life an agent-to-be wasn't working for her. There was no telling how bad it would get once she actually got into the field. She hated the life of secrecy—not being able to tell anyone what was really going on in her life. She'd walk into church and have to give a blurry answer for not being seen for the past weeks. Then to rip her up some more, lunch with her friends would be agony for not being able to tell at all about why she felt so low. She couldn't unload about how she felt bogged down by the expectations from the agency. She couldn't tell them how she'd try to put her best foot forward—but someone else was always better. How could she open up and say she used to feel enough, but now inefficient for the task ahead and that she knew she should look at herself through God's lenses, but she just couldn't help comparing herself with her fellow agents? How could she admit that she had not made a single friend out of Troy, Stevens, or Michael?

She snorted, turning her attention to her latte. They'd think it was true that she was having mental issues—and had escaped the mental institution. Was it possible to feel more alone in the world?

My strength is made perfect in weakness.

She knew that still small Voice—with the power to still a raging sea. But was it okay not to fully understand what the Lord said sometimes?

"Miss Hopper?"

Chris raised her head, and met the dark eyes of one of the teen boys. Her concerned frown ironed out once she recognized him. "Trey McCoy?"

The surprise in his eyes didn't die. "What are you doing here?"

She raised her cup of latte as if in salute. "Having some coffee."

He blinked twice, frowning. "But where have you been?"

Chris couldn't help the eye-roll. She was tempted to answer sarcastically, "In some mental institution. Haven't you heard?" instead, to her own surprise, she said, "Oh, I moved out of town. It was kinda an emergency."

Trey looked confused on whether to leave it at that or ask more. He apparently chose the latter. "So those guys who stormed into the school were playing some awful prank?"

Chris shook her head and chuckled, giving the impression of being pleasantly overwhelmed with questions—she was truly brain-freezing nervous. "You always were my most inquisitive student," she said, wagging her finger at him in teasing deprecation. Seeing more of his friends' attention was now on their conversation, she knew she had to say something – hopefully satisfying. "It seemed they didn't take into account the traumatizing affect it would have on you."