Eighteen
EIGHTEEN
DANA
The following week, Rhett is on stage again, playing the guitar like it’s exactly what God created him to do. I successfully avoided him in public since last Sunday. Earlier this week I saw him walking down the sidewalk with Mrs. Woodhouse carrying a few bags of her groceries. Before they could see me I ducked out of sight, hiding behind a raised flower bed.
Something needs to change because I can’t keep walking on eggshells at church and ducking behind shrubs in public just to avoid an ex. It’s exhausting to live in what feels like a constant state of flight. Speaking of exes, I ran into bachelor number one at the grocery store with his new wife. Because why wouldn’t I?
I smiled and gave an awkward wave, and they completely ignored me. It was yet another reminder of how I never seem to be enough.
Gracie gasps, successfully lifting me out of my downward spiral. One of the senior girls in our row mutters something to my tenth-graders and points at Rhett.
After the senior slinks back to her seat, Gracie turns to face me. “Is that true?”
“Is what true?” I ask.
“Rhett is also RJ Hemlock?” Apparently, the word about Rhett got around fast after last week.
When Rhett looks up, our eyes connect and my breath hitches. “Yes,” I whisper.
“You dated a rockstar!” Liz exclaims. “You’re obviously still smitten with him.”
I tear my gaze away from Rhett.
“No. What Rhett and I had was temporary. He lied to me about who he was, and I don’t know if we can ever get past that,” I say sternly. Unease slides into my belly when I catch Emma’s look of judgmental curiosity.
“Oh,” is all Liz says in response.
The music turns into a complicated, fast tempo, and I focus back to the man on stage. I assumed the time away from him would help my bruised heart recover and that I would get over him. But that was a stupid assumption because I will never get over Rhett Stryker.
I also stupidly thought that after his first week on stage, I’d get over the excitement of hearing him live. But I was wrong. Listening to him again tonight only makes my heart ache for him more.
Rhett stares directly at me and smiles. I do my best to remain expressionless.
“So he hurt you?” Liz asks as if she needs to know more of the story.
I clench my jaw before answering. “Yeah. He broke my trust.”
“And you don’t think you’ll ever get over it?” she asks.
For a few seconds, I’m silent in contemplation. This is not something I want to discuss with anyone, especially not a group of impressionable teenage girls. But I also don’t want to lie, so I finally answer. “I want to.”
Liz nods in understanding and faces forward. When I catch Emma’s eye, she gives me an indiscernible look.
Someone ruffles my hair from behind, and I turn to scold one of my girls but meet Crew’s mischievous smile instead.
He quickly glances to the stage, then back to me. “You okay?” he mouths. Crew was on duty last week and had to miss youth group. Sunday was our original guitarist’s last service, and I decided not to tell Crew about Rhett joining the church band in stupid hopes that it was a one-time thing.
I shrug. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t look convinced, but I’m grateful he doesn’t push me anymore on it.
The rest of the band comes out on stage and starts singing. I do my best to focus on the lyrics and not the talented man playing the guitar but find my gaze constantly drifting back to Rhett. His eyes are closed, and he’s wholly consumed in singing his praises to our Savior. Someone sneaks out and puts a microphone in front of him, and his rich, baritone voice takes center stage. Chills break across my arms. His voice is incredible, but the sincerity shining in every word he sings sends a warmth through me. I look across the aisle at Crew, who looks…proud. Surprisingly so.
Rhett’s eyes pop open, but he keeps singing as if he just realized it’s been his voice filling the sanctuary. Sure, most of the youth group is singing along with him, but Rhett has a voice that refuses to be ignored. At least by me.
We sing a few more songs before Dillon takes the stage and delivers his message on forgiveness. Each verse he reads is like a bolt of conviction hitting me at the center of my heart. He ends in a prayer that has me fighting back tears, knowing I need to let go of the past.
We’re dismissed into our small groups, and a herd of teenage girls swarms around me and pushes me to our room.
“No. You don’t understand. I will never forgive her,” I’m shocked to hear Emma say as we all filter into the room.
“What she did was wrong, and you have every right to be upset, but not forgiving her isn’t going to help you. Or make her feel any worse than she already does,” Gracie says, giving Emma a gentle look as she takes her seat on the couch.
Emma rolls her eyes at Gracie and crosses her arms over her chest. She drops onto the couch, leaving several spaces between them.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Emma gives me a dirty look, and I raise an eyebrow. “Sass and attitude aren’t going to deter me.”
Her shoulders visibly relax and her arms fall to her sides. She swallows, and I can see moisture at the corners of her eyes.
“Millie told Jax that I had a crush on him. After I swore her to secrecy.”
I grimace. Yeah, definitely a harsh betrayal. “And what happened with Jax?”
Emma hangs her head. “He told her that he can only see us as friends.”
“That’s hard.” Olivia walks over and sits beside Emma, touching her shoulder. “I know it hurts now, but another guy will come around and make you forget all about Jax.”
Emma shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” She looks up at Olivia. “I’m in love with him.”
I give my sister a lot of credit for not laughing or even cracking a smile. Emma can be quite a fickle drama queen. Only a few weeks ago, she was gushing over a senior boy she had study hall with that was definitely not named Jax.
Olivia and I both know how it feels to have your heart broken as a teenager. The emotions are valid and powerful. But those feelings quickly fade, and as adults, we can look back at what we experienced and almost laugh at how much something like an unrequited crush at fifteen hurts. But we survive, and those feelings fade away. I can’t explain that to a fifteen-year-old living in those moments, though.
“We need to forgive,” I say, feeling hypocritical.
“Why?” Emma snaps.
“Because Jesus set the example and forgave us for all of our sins. Even the ones that break His heart.”
“Have you forgiven Rhett for lying to you about who he used to be?” Emma asks, pushing me to acknowledge the truth I’ve fought so hard to ignore. This is why I need to be careful with what I say around these girls. They don’t miss a thing.
I stare at nothing in particular, unblinking. One thing I promised them from the get-go was to always be honest. That even in the hard things, I would be open with them. I have no excuse for changing that now. “It’s something I’m working on.” I turn my gaze back to Emma.
She gives me a haughty smile. “I guess it’s fair for me to say that forgiving Millie is something I’m working on too.”
I sigh and close my eyes for the briefest moment. At least it’s a start.
Needing to get this derailed freight train back on track, I ask Madi to open us in prayer.
She was the most nervous about praying when I first led these girls. Long pauses and stutters hindered her from being able to talk to God openly in front of other people. But now she’s confident and bold in her prayers, a prayer warrior not just at church but at school. From what the other girls tell me, Madi is the one at their lunch table who prays over the food despite the snide remarks and snickers from their classmates.
Spending time with these girls is exactly what I need and I’m grateful my heart has softened marginally this past week so I can really embrace this time with them. Madi sends up a heartfelt prayer that gets us ready to dig into the passage Dillon spoke on earlier. The girls each pull out their notebooks and pens, jotting down notes as we go through the passage word by word. Pride fills me as I look around at their well-worn Bibles. Their Bibles are worn from more than just coming to services and small group too. They love Jesus and live for Jesus. These girls are setting an example for me.
Watching Rhett play on stage made me momentarily forget it, but it’s the reminder I need. It shows me what life is all about. It’s not about the sexy undercover rockstar on stage; it’s about Jesus. Just like not everything in this life is about finding “the one” who will maybe make our hearts happy; it’s about discovering the One who laid His life down to save our souls and gives us something no circumstances can ever take away—joy. Listening to their answers and hearing their excitement is both eye-opening and humbling.
As we work through the verses, my heart thirsts more for God’s Word. I’ve been deprived of it for far too long. This is the push I need to not give up when the passages don’t make sense. I need to stop looking at it through the lens of what I can get out of it and instead read it as a way to learn more about God. To watch the promises He made come to fruition. To see the prophecies of old come true in God’s perfect timing. Without warning, tears brim as my eyes are opened to the reason behind my struggle. Just like when the scales fell from Paul’s eyes, the symbolic scales of my selfishness flutter to the ground and reveal the reason for my block.
Was it fair for me to be angry at Rhett for lying to me? Sure, it’s justified, but what he did isn’t unforgivable, and it’s not right for me to believe that for another moment.
Lord, please help me to let this go. Help me to forgive and move past this.
Olivia closes us in prayer before the whole youth group meets back in the sanctuary. When we step through the doors I see that Rhett is back on stage, strumming his guitar and gently humming an old hymn into the microphone.
“Are you okay?” Olivia asks, reading me like an open book.
I nod and dab my eyes. “Yeah, I think so.”
She leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Are those good tears or bad tears?”
I release a chuckle. “A mixture of both.”
When Olivia sees my smile, the sympathy in her expression turns to relief. “Glad to hear it.”
Once the remaining small groups are back in the sanctuary, Rhett sings the hymn he was humming. His eyes are closed, as if he’s imagining the scene portrayed in the hymn before him. He pours emotion into each note as though he’s become one with the words and melody. Tears fill my eyes. It feels like this song created over a hundred years ago was written for his voice.
The music fades, and our gazes lock when he looks up. I give him a soft but genuine smile before Pastor Dillon closes us in prayer.
After we’re all dismissed, Gracie links her arm in mine and pulls me to the lobby. “Please tell me you and Rhett are getting back together. We’ll be the envy of the youth group if our leader starts dating the guitarist and singer who also happens to be a world-famous rockstar!” She squeals the last part.
“Girls,” Olivia scolds. “What Dana chooses to do when it comes to Rhett is no one’s business but her own.”
“It’s fine, Liv. Honest,” I say.
“Have you forgiven him?” Emma asks. Her expression is hopeful, as if my answer will determine her own decision with Mille.
“Almost,” I answer honestly.
Tonight has convicted me to my core, but there’s still more I need to work through. The desire to pour my heart out to God through a secret creative outlet overwhelms me. An outlet not even my sister knows about.
After saying my goodbyes, I sneak down the hall and slip into the room I pray brings me freedom.