6. Sharks
IMAGINE DRAGONS
6
SHARKS
Vacation Bible School. The highlight of summer for many. The Superbowl of youth and children’s ministry each and every year. A themed craft and snack party, occupied by preschoolers to preteen, highly hormonal adolescents. And a safe, Gospel-centered, week-long babysitter for parents.
For Dakota, who’d been all but forced to volunteer since his youth days, VBS was a week of exhausted, sweaty—and sometimes mysteriously sticky—kids who wanted nothing more than to hang around his neck while he performed the hand motions to every on-theme song.
He loved the Lord, and he wanted to serve joyfully. But, man, if he had to sing AND dance to waves of mercy, waves of grace whilst being strangled by a seven-year-old with too much energy and the attention span of an overactive puppy for one more week of his young adult life, Dakota thought he might just call it quits and run away forever.
His sisters, on the other hand, soared in complete bliss.
The Remillard sisters shared excitement over a few primary things in life. Jesus, planning ridiculously extravagant events, and decorating for said events.
All of which could be co-mingled into another shared passion: musical productions. The girls lost their minds over coordinated singing and dancing that Dakota could trace directly back to a six-month time span where they watched all three High School Musicals repeatedly. Every. Single. Day. So, naturally, they took advantage of any opportunity to plan events for Living Hope where decorating and choreographing dance moves could be implemented.
But arguably more than anything in their collective worlds, his sisters delighted in Dakota’s discomfort. Highly trained and well-practiced, they coached one another on the ins and outs and most effective methods in which to make him squirm.
Ginny, being the youngest, always found ways to irritate Dakota as if it were what she’d been training for from the moment of her birth. She had, after all, had two experts in the field aiding in the development of her particular skills: accepting way too many unvetted dates, singing in the shower while hogging all the hot water, eating all but the crumbs of his Lucky Charms and, her latest tactic, not-so-subtly nagging him for information about a certain coffee shop manager in front of said coffee shop manager.
Georgia and Caroline, in more recent years, had taken on gratuitous PDA with their husbands as the sport of choice. Running uncomfortable marathons of inside jokes, gazing into ocean blue eyes—how a dude’s eyes looked like the ocean was beyond him, but both girls insisted on describing the Lovett boys this way—or just blatant physical contact that was better left without an audience. Thank you very much.
But VBS was, without a doubt, his sisters’ yearly Olympics—what they were so disciplined in training for all year round. The annual event where Georgia, Caroline, and Ginny came together in one accord to serve, yes, but also—Dakota imagined—to plot ways to make his life nearly unbearable.
The worst and strangest part of having three sisters was the odd sensation of being eternally annoyed by their antics while also hopelessly loving the crazy loons in the midst of their madness. They drove him nuts, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ginny sucked in the helium from a balloon she’d been filling. “Every move I make in You, You make me move Jesus,” she sang in a chipmunk voice, sending uncomfortable chills across Dakota’s skin.
Caroline giggled while taking the balloon from Ginny’s hands and sucking in a small gulp of helium, adding, “Every breath I take, I breathe in You… yeah.”
Georgia, who didn’t partake of the helium, threw her hands in the air and waved them back and forth, joining them, “Na na. Na na na na na. Na na. Na na na na na.”
“Could y’all save it for the kids? Wouldn’t want ya to lose those melodic voices too soon,” Dakota said as he strung lights from the wooden beams throughout the Living Hope Church auditorium.
He looked down from the ladder and found Lake, Griffin, and Evan Lovett all standing below, holding balloons guiltily to their mouths while Griffin held the ladder with his free hand. They grinned in ridiculous, near-identical smiles and began singing an Alvin and the Chipmunks song. Their weird fascination with the cartoon, a complete mystery to Dakota.
The door to the auditorium opened, letting in a quick burst of summer heat from outside, and Georgia’s best friends, Ryan and Blaire, stepped through, laughing, with Sadie at their side.
Sadie smiled up at him. An absent-minded mistake or, more likely, still taking pleasure in having learned about his childhood/manhood, secret hobby. Dressed in an oversized t-shirt, knotted at her waist, cuffed jean shorts, and a bright red pair of high-top Converse, she looked like pure summer sunshine. And like she was more than ready to participate in all the dance moves VBS had to offer. Dakota kinda wanted to see that.
“It looks great in here, babe.” Blaire greeted Evan, her fiancé and pastor of Living Hope, with a kiss on the cheek. “Ry and I were just sayin’ how we couldn’t wait to make the playlist for this year's theme.” She put her hands in the air like an actress showcasing a Broadway musical. “Stars in the Sky. It's gonna be epic!”
Ginny popped up, throwing her hair into a messy bun, and took another swig of helium. “Hey, Ry!” her voice squeaked. “I thought it might be good to go over the list right now. Ya know, since we’re leadin’ worship together and everything.”
Dakota followed her line of sight and noticed the way Ryan’s face had gone from relaxed contentment to what looked like pain. He glanced around the room. Anywhere, it seemed, but at Ginny who marched right up to him and smiled like she’d caught a mouse in a trap. “You wouldn’t have a problem with that, now would you, coach?” she asked, extra sass in her tone.
Dakota tilted his head to the side, watching the strange scene unfold. Caroline and Georgia nudged one another discreetly, eyes glued to their youngest sister. Their respective husbands shook their heads silently, all too aware of the scheming their wives were capable of, while Blaire and Evan stood glued to each other—per usual.
But Sadie… Sadie watched Ginny with a strange happiness on her face. He didn’t know why, but if he could name it, Dakota would call that look hope. Sadie was brimming with hope for Ryan and… his little sister?
Ryan and Ginny? When did that become a thing?
He could see it now, though. Ginny’s playful directness. Ryan’s complete avoidance. His sister was gonna eat that guy alive. Dakota blanched. He didn’t want to think about them right now. Or ever, probably.
No, instead he focused his attention on the woman who’d abandoned her gazing and had strolled over to the ladder he was still perched upon.
“Hello, Edwin. You’re looking awful chipper today. Did you steal candy from a toddler?”
Sadie nudged Griffin out of the way, putting her hands precariously on the ladder, and smiled up at Dakota. “Manners, Kota… manners. I always ask nicely before taking chocolate from anybody. Toddlers included.” She gave the ladder a tiny little jostle. Not enough to completely unseat him, but Dakota was forced to grab the top step with both hands for support.
He imagined he looked like a baby giraffe. Both feet and hands on the highest step, butt raised high in the air, his head looking around for something to stabilize him—but finding only the top of Sadie’s curly head, wrapped in a red scarf today.
“Are you unhinged? Don’t touch the ladder!” he gritted out, voice shaky.
“I think you’re forgetting something… from all those classes in the Remillard School of Manners and May I’s.” She looked up at him, batting her eyes. Her hands gripped a step, as if preparing to shake it again at any moment.
“Please don’t touch the ladder, friend. May I, please, come down now?”
When Sadie moved aside with a more than satisfied smile on her face, Dakota huffed, climbed down, and scooped up the small box he’d brought along with him for that exact moment. “This is for you, Edwin.”
“When will you stop calling me Edwin?”
“When it stops sparking joy.”
He watched Sadie’s bright amber eyes light up. “And… does Wade spark joy?”
He shoved the box in her hands, disgruntled. “Open the box, Edwin. Please.”
She did as he asked, for once, and Dakota couldn’t help the spark of actual joy he got as he watched her face go from confusion to glee.
“Chocolates and…” She lifted the small ceramic figure just barely out of the box so only he could see. “I… I already took the one from the other day,” she admitted. A small blush bloomed across her warm, flawless, light brown skin, adding the faintest hint of pink.
And although he didn’t particularly want to dwell there, Dakota cataloged those colors blending together across her lovely face as a noted benefit of all this friendliness business.
“I know you did. It’s meant to be a pair. I have two of each. Except for the bear. I’m missing a brown bear, but… um… anyways.” He nodded towards the box, unsure of why he kept giving her more information than necessary. “I ate a chocolate and needed a place filler.”
She grabbed a chocolate, taking an agonizingly slow bite, and shut the box, like she might be forced to share if it stayed open any longer. “You ate one of my chocolates? You can’t do that!”
“I can, and I did. Had to be sure they weren’t poisoned, Edwin. You’re welcome. Two points for Dakota.”
She scoffed. “You don’t get two points for handing me half-eaten chocolates!”
“A box of chocolate with one single candy missing does not a half-eaten box make. And… I gave you one of my treasured birds. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“A bird I already had.”
He waved her off. “A collectible. You can’t put a value on Wade. Again, you’re welcome.”
She cradled the chocolate box in her hand, and Dakota knew he’d won. “Fine. Two points.”
A throat cleared to their right, garnering their attention, where every person in the auditorium had been watching their exchange.
Lake pointed over his shoulder. “We were all just sayin’ it might be nice to grab a late lunch together before the kids come, but if y’all need to stay behind and keep doin’... whatever it is you’re doin’ here,” he pointed between Dakota and Sadie, who each regrettably and noticeably took a large step away from each other, “we can leave y’all to it.”
“We’re not doin’ anything at all, Lakeland,” Sadie said, all confidence and swagger. “Dakota here was just grovelin’ a bit over our squabble the other day and then begged me for forgiveness… again. Whew!” She wiped her forehead. “It’s a bit exhaustin’, if I’m honest.”
“I didn’t…” Dakota began, but Sadie carried on.
“Anyways, he was just sayin’ how he’d really hoped to lead a group of kids this year. A whole tribe of ‘em, ya know?” She winked at Evan and Blaire who were in charge of volunteer duties. Dakota felt his stomach sinking as their eyes lit with mutual excitement, falling into Sadie’s charming snare.
“I don’t…”
“No, no, Kota. Don’t you dare be humble. We all know you’ve had a little bit of a hard time in Sunday school as of late. Those little kids with big questions can be mighty intimidatin’ sometimes, but don’t you let it stop you from servin’.” She lifted her eyes in challenge.
He looked at Ginny, who had covered her mouth with her hand, holding in laughter. The traitor.
Looking around the room, he saw only knowing smiles, familiar with his recent questionable venture in Sunday school—aside from Evan, who like any pastor desperate for children’s workers, jumped on the opportunity.
“Oh man, Dakota, that would be so great. I’ll make sure you get put on first graders, so you can be with Theo.” He sighed like he’d crossed a check mark off a mile high list and visually relaxed. “I can’t tell you what it means to have so many willing helpers. Thanks, man.”
When Evan shook his hand, Dakota didn’t have it in him to backtrack.
You’re welcome, Sadie mouthed, her perfectly pink lips drawing into a devious smile. Dakota visualized a couple sly ways of his own to wipe that bright smile right off her lips. Ones that were decidedly not cordial.
“This isn’t going on the Cordiality Count,” he declared as Sadie sauntered right by him, her red Chucks just as complimentary on her and appealing to Dakota as a pair of heels.
“We’ll see about that, Wade.” She winked—winked!—and joined his sisters and Blaire.
As they left the building in search of barbeque—and Dakota thought, hopefully, some space from the woman he’d just imagined kissing so abruptly she’d see stars—Griffin pulled him aside.
“So you had some trouble with the kids in Sunday school the other day? Theo mentioned it.”
“No, I didn’t have trouble. Not really,” Dakota answered defensively. Then trying to lighten his mood, adjusted his voice to his best Nacho Libre impersonation. “People don’t think I know a buttload of crap about the Gospel, but I do.”
Lake came up behind them, chuckling. “Kota, man! Nacho Libre? I love that movie!” He slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder and quoted the movie again, but loud enough to earn the snickers and laughter of the rest of the group. “Do you not realize I have had diarrhea since Easters?”
“Father Abraham… had many sons… ” Dakota tried, and failed, to march along to the song with two seven year olds clinging to his ankles like fat ticks on a hot summer hike. Of course, with every movement and jostle, the girls hanging on for dear life giggled and squealed and wiggled all the more. It almost—almost—softened Dakota's tiny VBS Grinch heart.
That is, until Jenny Brewington enthusiastically swung her head around during the spinning portion of the song, swatting Dakota in the face with a beaded braid, and making him fear he may not make it through the week without losing an eye.
“You look mighty uncomfortable,” Sadie mused, holding the hands of two girls who’d seen she was their leader and instantaneously decided she’d be their best friend for life.
Or the week. Maybe just that day? Dakota couldn’t be sure. He clearly didn’t understand women.
“I’m just fine, thank you. Grood, even.” He jiggled his leg, earning the laughter of his cling-ons. “I just love having extra appendages weighing me down. It sparks… joy.”
“Well, it’s certainly sparking joy for the rest of us,” she replied, pumping her arms and stomping her feet along with the kids, completely in her element. “If the whole,” she dropped her voice down an octave, mocking Dakota’s voice, “I’m a brilliant, but sassy engineer with a big-boy job thing doesn’t work out, you could totally go into childcare full-time.”
“Right.” Dakota stomped his feet and felt the tightened grips of the kids still clinging onto his ankles like overgrown koalas. For a tiny moment, the familiar itch of insecurity wiggled its way across his skin. He didn’t feel like a brilliant engineer. In fact, he felt anything but. He felt… much like he did with all these people, kids, and music surrounding him on every side… trapped. But he brushed the discomfort aside quickly and aimed for maintaining levity. Play this game with Sadie… don’t overthink it.
“I’ll call it Dakota’s Daycare. All animals welcome. You’ll be their keeper.”
“Sadie’s Circus…” she mused and rustled the hair of one of the girls at her side. “My circus, my monkeys.”
He offered her a playful smile. “More like Mills’ Madhouse, sane humans need not apply. The ringleader is a cuckoo bird.”
“And the proprietor still plays with dolls…”
Dakota growled low through his teeth, “Collectibles, Edwin…”
Sadie open-mouthed laughed as if she were having the time of her life… with him… and Dakota felt it deep in his gut, despite the repeating song or the body motions he was committed to performing or the cadence of kids’ voices screaming around him. He could bottle her laugh and sell it for profit. He’d probably call it Kota Kryptonite and tell everyone it smelled like sunshine and cinnamon.
Dakota froze in realization.
Right in the middle of every kid screaming, “Chin up, turn around, sit down!”
This whole friendship agreement was proving to be more difficult than he’d imagined. It’d only been a week, and he found himself thinking far too much about Sadie. More than he ever had before, in fact. Brainstorming ways he could irritate her with his kindness. He had a chart and everything—inspired by Caroline, who literally created reasons to make and bedazzle charts for every major decision in her life.
He'd spent more time and energy on that list, glitter not-included, than he'd spent on anything in a long time. His was filled with tricky tactics and battle strategies for this little game of friendly fire. It’d given Dakota a purpose to point towards. And most notably, ways to make Sadie smile… at him. But, bottling up her laugh? That was an entirely new endeavor, and he was off his rocker.
Nevermind the fact that sharing that laugh with anyone also made him want to create an entirely different chart. One with a list of places to hide Sadie away from the rest of the world completely. He didn’t want anyone to fancy themselves worthy of her.
“Kota?” Sadie whispered, though the whole auditorium heard her regardless as the room fell quiet and Dakota was now the only person—aside from Ginny and Ryan, leading worship—still standing. Sadie grabbed his wrist. “Kota, you okay?”
At the pressure of her touch around his arm, Dakota came back to himself, stomach jumping into his chest with embarrassment. “Ugh,” he threw himself in a chair, barely registering the kids still attached to his ankles. “Sorry. I was just… um… just distracted.”
He hollered at his sister and Ryan, “Carry on, y’all!”
Ginny nodded, looking more than amused, and encouraged everyone to stand back up for the last song. One of Dakota’s favorites.
As they sang the words, ones that spoke of all of God’s creation being made to worship Him, Dakota closed his eyes. He didn’t want the distraction he knew stood to his right. Likely with hands raised to the sky, completely surrendered to Christ and completely oblivious of what seeing her worship so freely did to him.
He didn’t want to feel the way he felt about her. The way she loved the Lord had only made her more appealing and vibrant. And her rejection, so much more frustrating. He didn’t understand why God had placed this woman in his path. A woman he couldn’t seem to ignore, yet was wholly unreachable to him.
Because Sadie had said no to him from the very beginning. She’d known exactly what she wanted. She always had. Choosing, instead, to love his family… his sisters, rather than the risk of a maybe with Dakota. He respected her reasoning, even if he didn’t understand it. But their little game, the Cordiality Count, had made all the reasons Dakota had spent so much time keeping his distance—of not being friendly to Sadie—all the more apparent.
This new dynamic with her, mixed with the shaky ground he already stood upon, felt as if it could wreck him completely.
He took a deep breath, singing, “If the stars were made to worship, so will I,” and felt the lyrics move through the depths of his spirit. Dakota prayed through the deep and overwhelming feelings of uncertainty that had taken up residence in his heart and mind.
He prayed that he would be true to God’s plan for his life, even if he wasn’t sure what it was at the moment. He didn’t know if he was in the right career field. He certainly didn’t know where he’d be living by the end of the summer, if this whole friendliness thing went south. He didn’t even know if he really belonged in Sugartree anymore. He prayed simply, I’m not sure of my purpose, but I know Your promises.
He felt discontent. In that moment—with Sadie at his side, so sure of everything all the time, and his siblings, whose lives had gone in different directions over the past few years, but were flourishing—Dakota didn’t know where he really and truly belonged. But even if he was more frustrated with the unknowns of his future than he’d ever been, and unsure of whether Sadie would ever be more for him, Dakota knew he could find peace and purpose in worshiping his Creator. He prayed he would.