A Small Voice

Chapter Twenty-Three

"But the fruit of theSpirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith."Galatians 5:22

I made a mad dash from my dorm to the cafeteria. By the time I had showered and triple-checked my hair in the dirty bathroom mirror, I started running late. Furious at my lack of awareness, I punished myself by running, taking long strides toward our meeting place. I almost knock a poor girl over as I frantically come around a corner along the path. She froze like a deer in headlights, life flashing before her pretty eyes.

I got to the building and bounded up the steps, skipping two with each jump. Skidding at the cafeteria door, I stopped for exactly three seconds. "Father, Son, Holy Ghost," I muttered, and then opened up the door and slowly walked toward the table where Rachel was sitting.

"Hey, stranger."

She looked fabulous. She was wearing a bright white school sweatshirt that accentuated her olive skin and raven hair. Her perfect features jumped out at me, and she was glowing in her youthfulness.

"Sorry for being late, Rach. Somehow, I lost track of time."

"Don't worry, I was late as well, I literally just sat down."

Of course, I thought. I couldn't help a stupid grin from forming on my face.

"What?" she asked, noticing it. A matching smile formed on her chiseled cheekbones.

"Oh, I just ran over here like maniac."

She laughed at my admission. "Well, you are nuts. Is that why you're sweating and out of breath? Your hair looks like it was caught in a wind tunnel!"

"Really?" I cringed, thinking about how much time I wasted on styling it.

She pulled out a little mirror form her oversized purse. She was right. I looked like a freak. My hair was a big, bouncy mess. I tried to flatten it a bit with my hand.

Rachel was amused at my attempt. "When did you cut it last? I'm surprised the dean didn't make you cut it short again, like he did six months ago."

I kept working with my blonde beehive and the pocket mirror. "I think the dean has given up on me. He must know I am a lost cause."

She laughed. "That's why I miss you so much, everyone here is so square. It's starting to become boring. I'm actually looking forward to graduation. I mean, at first, everything and everyone was so new and different. I got so caught up in all the activities and culture. After a while, it starts to get mundane." She reached her perfect little hand and stroked the top of my head, trying to help with the mess. It had been months since she'd touched me.

"My biggest regret is the fact that I have neglected you." She stared directly into my eyes. They were soft and loving. Her eyes seemed to have a religious kindness in them now, saintly. She had changed, but I could see that her passionate embracing of Christianity did not make her judgmental, like I've found in most of my experience, just more kind.

"It's okay, Rach, we talk every day. I am really happy you fit in here. Sometimes I feel like I should have tried more, instead of retreating into my own melancholy. I should have joined the worship team and sports. I should have experienced these things with you. I don't know, I think I just fell into a funk."

She kept staring at me. It made me almost nervous.

"You seem different. More alive and self-aware, or something. I haven't seen you like this for, well, since we arrived. You look happy."

I had to laugh. "I guess I wasn't much of a fun boyfriend. I think right from the first day, I realized this was not going to be what I had imagined. I imagined independence, me and you experiencing the world together. It surprised me that Bible College was even more of a bubble than my old life back home."

She took a bite of her doughnut. I was secretly happy. It seemed the four or five pounds she put on her small frame went to the places I liked—tits and ass. I hoped she would add one or two more. She was looking more like a woman now.

"Well, Daniel," she paused, "I do not know what has gotten into you, or what you did, but I like your more positive and mature perspective. Whatever it is you're doing to pull yourself out of this black hole you were in, keep it up."

I grinned again, but more nervously. If she knew it was Tammy helping me, I was pretty sure she wouldn't encourage me to keep it up."

I took her last piece of donut and popped it in my mouth.

"Hey!" she complained.

My mouth was full, so I mumbled, "You eat too much junk food. I don't want you to get fat." It was a bit of a lie, but I wanted to tease her.

"What!" she exclaimed, a petulant look on her face. "I'm not fat!"

"Your diet is unhealthy."

"It's not unhealthy."

"What did you have for breakfast?" I challenged.

She was quite for a moment, and then burst out laughing vivaciously. "Pancakes."

I joined in the laughter. "With lavish amounts of syrup, no doubt?" My right eyebrow shot up in an accusatory fashion.

She knew she was beat. "You won, you little bastard."

"Language, language Rachel, this is a Christian college." I waved my finger to enforce my fake chastisement.

She stood up and reached across the table and planted her fist into my chest. She seemed as playful as a little kitten this afternoon.

"Ouch!" I complained. "You can't do that. Every time I catch you in a lie, you cannot just up and hit me." I loved it, of course. I was desperate for her touch.

She sat down and smiled. "Dan, Dan, Dan, making me use naughty language." Her disposition suddenly took a somber turn. "I really am sorry for neglecting you."

"It's fine," I lied. "I screwed up that time we were in the forest. I knew I really hurt you. I was awful and selfish. Having a bit more time to myself did a lot of good." It was another egregious lie, but I couldn't bear to see Rach sad. "Besides, now that you have gotten to know these square students and seen how boring they are, it only increases my cool factor."

She laughed. I was happy I cheered her up. "You're not cool, Dan. You're sweet. You've never been cool. Just leave the coolness to me, I have enough for the two of us."

She was obviously correct, but I put on my best shocked and sullen expression. "Ouch, a little harsh, Rach."

She quickly touched my hand again. Her fingers were as soft as an angel's wing, and warmth filled my cold, dark heart.