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"Stand Strong"


Chapter 1
A Door Opens

By Writingfundimension

     
    Mara sat cross-legged on her bed, struggling to solve an algebra equation. She nibbled on the corner of a fingernail and fought against the urge to hurl her textbook across the room. A picture popped into her mind of Dart, the gerbil she'd had in third grade, and how he ran on the wheel in his cage for what seemed like hours. 


     Algebra, Mara realized, was her version of a gerbil wheel, and she was exhausted trying to get anwhere with it. Working on her math assignment for  two hours made her anxious and inclined to head downstairs to reward herself with something sweet before chilling out with her favorite Christian rock group, Skillet.

     Probably nothing in the fridge but vegetables and fruit, anyway, she thought. Her mother's New Year's resolution was for the whole family to eat healthier and leaner. Mara knew, without her mom's saying so, that she hoped this would help her daughter lose weight.

     Since music was her preferred stress release anyway, Mara fought the urge to grab her earbuds and pop them in. Though she could liisten to music while working on English assignments, such was not the case with math. This year, it was important for her to dig in and get her math grade up (even a B would be making progress). She worried about Friday's quiz, fearing she'd missed something crucial. It wouldn't be the first time she expected to do well only to fail.

     Her parents, who'd graduated at the top of their classes in college, expected a lot from Mara. They'd been disappointed in her last term grade, and believed she needed tutoring in mathematics before she fell too far behind, especially in her freshman year, but Mara convinced them she'd work harder. She knew she was on thin ice with them and needed to up her game.

     She rubbed the base of her skull and shoulders to ease the tension. Intent on her thoughts, she didn't hear the knock on her door.

     "Mara, can we come in?" her mother called from the hallway.

     "Sure, Mom," she answered. A mild ripple of anxiety flitted across her chest as she watched her parents approach the foot of her bed. They usually don't come in together unless it's serious. "Is anything wrong?" she asked. "I mean, there's a math quiz coming up, and, um... well... I think I'll be doing okay on it."

     Mrs. Devlan adjusted her glasses, an action that often preceded a lecture, but her face was relaxed and telegraphing excitement. "This isn't about math," she said while giving her husband a sideways look. At his nod, she continued, "We're comfortable you'll keep your side of our bargain."

     "O...ka...a...ay. So, what's this all about?"

     Mrs. Devlan pulled out an envelope from her pocket and fanned the air with it. "This came in today's mail. It's an early birthday gift from your father and
me."

     Mara crawled across the bed on her knees in order to snatch the envelope from her mother's grasp. What she found inside seemed impossible. Two tickets for the only Wisconsin tour stop by Skillet lay in her hand. She dove for her mother's waist and pulled her close in a tight squeeze.


     "I can't believe you guys! What an awesome gift!"

     Mara's heart felt ready to burst. She looked from one parent to another, not quite believing what she was seeing and hearing. "The concert's been sold out for months. How'd you get tickets?!" 

      "When we realized how much you wanted to see Skillet, your dad pulled a few strings." Leaning into her husband's side, Mrs. Devlan turned her gaze upwards. "Turns out, getting your father to keep our plan a secret was the real challenge." 

     Mr. Devlan rubbed the stubble of his 'winter' beard' and cleared his throat. "The extra ticket's for a friend of your choice. Mueller Auditorium can be a bear to navigate. Your mother and I will feel better knowing you have someone with you for backup." 

     Looking into his warm brown eyes, she grinned. "You're the best, Dad. Thanks for all you did to get these tickets." 

     His eyes returned the affection. "It was worth it to see the look on your face just now, Princess." Then he pointed to her textbook. "I know this is exciting news, but try not to lose focus on what's important right now."

     Mara glanced down and back up again. "Right, Dad."

     Mr. Devlan smiled in that crooked way he had and reached over to squeeze Mara's shoulder by way of encouragement. He grasped his wife's hand and they exited the room.

     Falling back unto the bed, Mara extended her arms, raising the tickets up to the light. Studying them as one would the facets of a gem, she felt a tingle of excitement go up her spine.

     I've got to call Jujee, she thought. Rolling unto her side and grabbing her cell phone, Mara pressed the familiar number. Her friend answered on the third ring, and Mara gushed, "You're not going to believe what just happened, Jujee. My parents gave me two tickets for the Skillet concert a week from Saturday. It's an early birthday gift." 


     "Sweet," Jujee said with marginal enthusiasm.

     Knowing Jujee preferred the heavy metal Christian groups like Demon Hunters, Mara played to her ego. "I was hoping you'd want to come along. Y'know, most of the Mt. Zion's REVaTEEN group will be there. In fact, I overheard Jayson Newsom making plans to meet up with his friends for pizza at Milo's before the concert."

     Hearing the magic name, Jayson Newsom, the girl's voice rose an octave. "Jayson's going? I have to be there! But I don't have anything to wear or enough money to get my nails done!"

     "You have plenty of time to get an outfit together and your nails look fine. Didn’t you just get a pile of clothes for Christmas?" Mara rolled her eyes. "There’s got to be something in there you can wear."

     Jujee breathed a heavy sigh into the phone, and Mara pictured her fiddling with a strand of her hair like she always did when annoyed. "Most of the items need to be returned," she said. "Especially the ones from Gram who thinks I'm still eight years old."

     Mara, who was anxious to salvage the situation, assumed a conspiratorial tone. "Look at it this way, Jujee, you can exchange what you don't like and maybe have even more money to spend what with all the January discounts."  

     "Huh, you could be right, Mara. Now I just need to convince my mom to take to me to Northwoods Mall this weekend. I'll exchange what I can for cash and spend it at Rue 21." Jujee's voice vibrated with excitement. "They have the coolest collection of petite-sized clothes." 

     Mara’s good spirits dipped a notch. “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m a few sizes bigger than you, remember?”

     “Right. Well, I gotta get going,” Jujee continued without bothering to tone down her excitement. “I’ll call you later and let you know how it went.”

                                  ***

     Afterward, Mara tried to convince herself she hadn't resorted to bribery. Adding to the discomfort was the knowledge her parents were on the fence about her friendship with Jujee, whose mother held down two jobs to make ends meet after a divorce. They worried she might not have the time to monitor her daughter's activities.

     The rock concert was to be the first significant event Mara would attend without her parents. She knew it would set the tone for future situations. What if Jujee cancels at the last minute? She can be a real jerk like that sometimes, and I don't really have anyone else I can ask on short notice. 

     Mara's prayers that night were twofold: She asked God to guide her to a positive outcome on the math test in light of her honest efforts to improve. Her second prayer was for God to help her discern whether inviting Jujee to the concert was a good idea.

     Waking the next morning, she felt more at peace. Underneath her friend's tough exterior, Mara heard God whisper, was a hurting heart. The bitter divorce of Jujee's parents had left her angry and confused.

     I believe God's word, through music, can work miracles, Mara thought. The concert could end up being an awesome experience for both of us.




 

Author Notes Please keep in mind when reviewing that this work is intended for a 14-15 year old Christian teen audience. Thanks to all who have reviewed this post from a few years back. I'm in the process of re-working the novel, which means some significant, and I hope for the better, changes. Oh, and sorry about the weird formatting. I guess some things have not changed on FanStory.

Cast of Characters:
Kris Devlan: Mara's mother
Mara Devlan: High School Freshman
Scott Devlan: Mara's father.
Jujee Mattson: Mara's best friend.
Skillet: One of the top five most popular Christian Rock groups. They were formed in 1996, and have twice been nominated for Grammy awards.

Thanks to Anne for the superb artwork.


Chapter 2
Alive and Awake

By Writingfundimension

**********
Previously: Mara is given an early birthday present of  two tickets for a Christian Rock Concert. Poised to turn fourteen, her parents are allowing her more freedom, and she is anxious to prove to them she can be trusted. Accompanying Mara will be her best friend, and Mara believes the concert will be a life-changing event for both of them.

**********


Jujee came over the morning of the concert to help Mara decide what to wear. The two girls studied the clothes on hangers and those tucked neatly onto shelves of the small closet. With a loud sigh, Jujee waved her hands like she was swatting bugs. She rolled her eyes and her voice had a sharp edge."I swear all you have are jeans and sweat shirts." 

"That's not true! I've got a denim skirt somewhere in the back of the closet. I was thinking of wearing leggings underneath it."

"That'd be okay, but thigh-high boots would be cool, especially over Vera Wang tights." Jujee arched an eyebrow and challenged, "It's not a sin to dress in style, you know."

Mara crossed her arms and shoved the closet door shut with her foot. 

Jujee, who never backed down from a disagreement, opened her mouth to reply but stopped as her phone's ring tone filled the room. She checked to see who was calling and smiled for the first time that morning. Stepping into the hallway, she tossed off a remark to Mara, "This will only take a sec." 

Mara heard her laughter but couldn't make out the words. Why couldn't she have ignored the call? Today is really important to me.

Fifteen minutes later, Jujee returned. Her smile was gone and there was a hard glint in her eye. She offered no explanation or apology for taking the call, and Mara was afraid to ask since Jujee never shared much about her personal life, including the names of other people she hung with.

Jujee moved to the side of the bed and grabbed a handful of Mara's hair. "You don't want my suggestions on what kind of clothes to wear. At least consider a new 'do." She dropped the strands of hair and crossed to a nearby laptop. 

"Come here, I've got an idea." Jujee pointed to a spot on the carpet next to her then focused on the computer screen. She executed a Google search and tapped the screen for emphasis. "Emily Brandt showed me this website last week. It explains how to make your hair look just like a Hollywood hottie."

Mara bit her lip and pushed down the urge to ignore Jujee's order. Despite the rebellious voice in her head, she said, "Guess it wouldn't hurt to check it out." 

Browsing the site, Mara's stomach clenched tight. Mom won't let me out of the house looking like this. Of the three styles Jujee chose, she didn't feel any of them were right for her and expressed her doubts.

"Those models have oval-shaped faces and they're wearing a lot of make-up. More than my parents would ever approve." Sliding her fingers through her long, black hair, Mara continued, "Mom's hairdresser says wearing my hair longer is more becoming for someone like me with a round face and high forehead."

The ballerina-thin blonde, Jujee, placed her hands on her hips and gave Mara an I-know-what's-best-for-you look. "We're high school freshmen now, remember? You thought I was making a big mistake when I got my hair cut and styled at that new place downtown. But now, boys who wouldn't give me the time of day before, take a second look when I pass by. Plus, you don't have to use as much make-up as they do here."

Turning to face Mara, she pressed her point home, "Your mother's been going to the same hairstylist forever. That's fine for her, but you need to see someone like I did who's young and up on the latest hair trends. Just try this for me, will you?"

Mara brought her hands to the sides of her head. "Okay," she agreed, "but no cutting off hair! Promise me, or I'm not letting you touch it."

Jujee flushed and her hand went to her right pocket. "I cut my own bangs all the time with manicure scissors. I was only gonna do a little trimming." She puffed her lips into a pout and scrunched her face, all the while watching herself in the mirror. After a few moments she laughed. "Oh, all right, I promise." 

An hour into the hairdo experiment, the air in the bathroom was thick with the smell of perfumed styling products. Making matters worse, a headache crept up Mara's scalp from the twisting and yanking of her hair. She threw up her hand to ward off a hot-iron-fisted Jujee.

"No more. Face it, Jujee, my hair is straight as a plank. Why do you think I always wear it the same way? You see what I go through? I know you're trying to help, but I'm going to wear my hair like I always do... straight."

Jujee shrugged her shoulders. "Chill, Mara." She bent to retrieve her backpack from the bathtub where she'd dumped it. "l need to go home and start getting ready for tonight." Without another word, she was out the door faster than a lightning bug.

Mara took in the styling products, electric curlers and a brush full of hair and sighed. As usual, I'm left to clean up the mess.

                                                         ***
The concert's venue, Mueller Auditorium, doubled as a sports facility. It was a general admission concert, so Mara's father dropped the girls off ninety minutes in advance of the doors' opening. He also printed out a seating chart, highlighting the areas for the best viewing of the band.

Armed with the knowledge that Christian rock concerts allow the taking of photos, Mara cajoled her father into letting her use his Nikon. They shared a love of photography, and Mara dreamed of a career in photojournalism. The bag holding the equipment hung from one shoulder and her purse from the other.

When they'd arrived at 4 p.m., temperatures hovered in the mid-thirties. The crowd's spirits were high. Clusters of teenagers posed for selfies, which they downloaded then excitedly shared with each other. Jujee kept herself busy gossiping, via text messages, with friends behind them in the line.

A blast of February cold rocked Mara forward. With temperatures following the course of the setting sun, Mara regretted her choice of footwear. Her toes were turning red where exposed through the peep hole of her cousin's fuschia wedgies. Why did I let Jujee talk me into wearing these instead of my Asics?

Several of the group from Mt. Zion set up a CD player in an open area. They began dancing and lip-dubbing lyrics: 'I ain't sellin' my soul... can't be sold... cause I been saved...'  

There was a restless, growing buzz behind Mara. "Skil..let, Skil..let, Skil..let," the crowd chanted. A dozen kids stood between her and the glass doors of the entrance. Snaking a quarter mile behind were fans of all ages anxious to get the fun on. When the doors opened, Mara grabbed Jujee and steamrolled her way through the crowd pouring into the auditorium.

Visualizing her father's map, she made her way to an east-side balcony that was adjacent to the stage. She located two seats in the center of the front row and collapsed.

Jujee, claiming she needed to use the restroom, took off. Standing up to remove her jacket a few minutes later,  Mara saw her friend on the lower gymnasium level, talking with some of the people from the Mt. Zion youth group. She could see Jujee shaking her head and pointing in Mara's direction.

When Jujee returned, Mara wasted no time in confronting her. "You've hardly talked to me since we got here. It seems like you're more interested in the group down there than you are in me. If you want to sit with someone besides me, go ahead. You'll just end up moping if you think you have to keep me company."

Jujee looked away from Mara toward the stage. "What'll your parents say if I leave you here alone?"

"Really, Jujee? You've never cared much about what my parents think of anything. It's obvious you prefer to be with the REVaTEEN group. Just go."

Mara watched a series of emotions cross her friend's face. For a minute, she let herself hope Jujee would choose her over the others. The answer, when it came, felt like the cut of a knife

"Are you sure you're okay with this? 'Cause I don't want you mad at me."

"I invited you along so you could have fun. Just go. The concert's starting." 

Jujee scooped up her backpack and, without a thank you or, even, a goodbye, hurried down the steps.

Mara huddled in her seat with her head down and hair spilling around her face, soaking up the tears. What did you expect, huh? You're fat and awkward. Of course, Jujee wants to be with those other girls. They're pretty and popular. She belongs with friends like that...people who have something to offer her.

Lost in her miserable thoughts, Mara was startled by a tap on her shoulder and a friendly male voice asking, "Aren't you in my Spanish class?"

I know that voice. Could this really be happening?

Mara made a slow turn and found herself pulled into the orbit of dark-lashed, brown-eyed Gabe Sanders -- someone girls like Jujee called choice.

He's even more gorgeous up close. God, help me not to blow this! 


 

Author Notes This novel is intended for Christian teens - a category that is not available on this site. Please keep that in mind when reviewing. Thanks!

TERMS:
Asics: A brand of running shoes.
Choice: Great Looking.
'Do: Hairdo
Lip-dubbing: Mouthing the words without actually vocalizing.
Selfies: Pictures taken of oneself, usually with a phone.
Swank: Stylish.
Vera Wang: Popular Designer.



Cast:
Mara Devlan: High School Freshman.
Jujee Mattson: Mara's best friend.
Awesome artwork, Days-Breaking, courtesy of tekayep.

Skillet is a wildly popular Christian Alternative Rock Band. They have received numerous Dove Award Nominations. Their album - AWAKE - received the Top Christian Album Award at the 2011 Billboard Music Awards and one of the tracks from that album - Awake and Alive - is featured in the movie Transformers: Dark of the Moon.

Thank you, AvMurray, for the use of the great artwork!


Chapter 3
Thick with Grace

By Writingfundimension

**********
Previously: 

Mara is given two tickets to a Christian Rock Concert by her parents as an early birthday present. However, at the concert, her girlfriend, JuJee, ditches her to be with the ‘in' crowd, leaving Mara alone and distraught. From the seat behind her, Mara hears the voice of a boy she has a crush on -- and he's talking to her!
 
**********
Mara's tongue felt like a lump of lead. She wanted to speak, willed herself to do so, but nothing came out. I can't believe one of the cutest guys in my class is talking to me right now.
 
Gabe Marquez wore a green sweatshirt with Michigan State emblazoned across its front, and a pair of black jeans shredded at the knees. His elbows rested on his thighs, and his eyes had not moved from her face. On either side of him, the seats were empty. 
 
Mara couldn't believe her luck, and she wasn't sure if it was good or bad. I look awful... smeared eye makeup and the front of my shirt wrinkled and wet. Plus he probably heard the whole conversation with JuJee, so he knows she dumped me.

Gabe leaned closer, and Mara could smell his cologne. “Spanish class?” he repeated. “You, me and about twenty other kids every morning from 9:20 to 10:10?”
 
“Yeah… um yes, I’m in Mr. Strunk’s Spanish class,” she answered.
  
He shrugged and leaned back into his seat. “Thought I recognized you... Mara, right?... the one who always gets to class on time, sits in the third row near the window, keeps her desk freaky neat and never passes notes?”
 
Mara sensed she was in the middle of a game, the rules of which she didn’t know. She twisted her body around to face him. The gym's vaulted ceiling amplified the crowd noise, making conversation difficult. Ready or not, she had Gabe’s attention, so she decided to wade in.

"You're Gabe Marquez, and always the last one to arrive at class and the first one out the door. Also, you speak Spanish like it’s a natural language for you.”
 
A muscle twitched below the surface of Gabe’s cheek. “Spanish is a second language in my home,” he responded. “My grandparents came from Mexico City. They live with me and my family. Half the time they’re speaking Spanish without realizing it. Of course, it comes in handy when they want to keep my brother and me out of the loop.” Laughter seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest. Mara found it spellbinding and, to her horror, a giggle came out in response. She looked down at her feet, fearing he’d think her silly or, worse, immature. 
 
Lifting her face, Mara could see that Gabe’s attention was on the stage where the technicians were making last minute sound and instrument checks. He switched his focus to the seat beside her and pointed to the camera equipment piled on the seat vacated by JuJee. “A Nikon camera and some killer lenses.” His right eyebrow went up, and his eyes caught and held hers. “You're seriously into photography." 
 
"The equipment belongs to my father,” Mara's words rushed out. “Well, at least the lenses do. The camera was my Christmas gift.”
 
Gabe sat back and crossed his arms. His wide grin made her pulse dance. “That’s some gift. Think your parents would be willing to adopt me?” 
 
Mara decided to bypass the question. “My father gave me a Kodak print film camera when I was four years old. It was the kind that you dropped off for overnight development. The story goes that I took pictures of my cat, the couch, the stairs… and when there were no more pictures left, I cried.” 
 
Overhead, the lights were systematically dimming to give people time to get to their seats. Mara nodded in the direction of her leather bag. “I’m going to be taking a lot of pictures. Will I be in your way? I mean we can trade places if you don’t… like… want to have to be looking around or over me all night. There’s a vacant seat next to mine if you have a… a date or something.”
  
Gabe grabbed a coat from the seat beside him and pulled it across his knees. He paused, then leaned in so she could hear him above the background noise. “I’m here alone and on assignment for The Beat. They paid for my ticket in exchange for a review of tonight’s concert. Since I plan to major in Journalism, I’m trying to earn a feature writer spot. Truth is, I’m not Christian, but I’ve checked out this band’s music, and they’re not half bad.”
 
“Not half bad!?” Mara shook her head. "They've gone platinum and won some big-time music awards. I think you need to do your homework a little better.”
 
Chin down and eyes boring into hers, Gabe responded, “Since you have the vacant seat, how about we hang out together tonight? You can fill me in on the band’s history, which I can use as filler for the article."
 
Mara glanced to where JuJee sat huddled with two girls from their youth group. They were laughing, and JuJee looked happy. She’s having fun, why shouldn’t I? 
 
Backing out of her seat, Mara rested her knees against its edge. My parents don't approve of me spending time alone with boys, especially ones I hardly know. But this chance may never come again. I need to make this work. She bent forward, bringing her face close to Gabe's.

"I'm not allowed to date until I'm sixteen, Gabe."

Gabe shifted in his seat and opened his mouth to speak, but Mara put up her hand. "I know this isn't a date, but someone from church is bound to see me with you and mention it to my parents. They might jump to conclusions, and I don't want to them to think they can't trust me." She took a moment to steady herself with a deep breath. "But if you agree to include one of my photographs in your review, I can honestly tell them that you and I were collaborating on an article about the Christian Rock scene.”
 
“Sweet,” Gabe replied, “but I have to warn you that if I don’t like the music, that’s the way I’m gonna report it. If you’re okay with that, then we have a deal.” 
 
Mara nodded her approval, and Gabe vaulted over the seat, settling in to watch her ready the camera equipment. His face had grown serious as she wiped down all the filters and lenses before making her selections, fitting them to the camera and setting it on the tripod. He even suggested some good camera angles.
 
The auditorium went black and then a spotlight lit up the stage. The crowed erupted into cheers as the drummer for Skillet, Jen Ledger, climbed the stage. She waved and smiled at the crowd as she made her way to her drum kit on a raised platform at the back of the stage. Her muscular biceps were plainly visible as she was wearing a sleeveless, black tunic top trimmed in lace.
 
The rest of the band followed: John Cooper, lead vocals, and bass; Korey Cooper, rhythm guitar, keyboards and backup vocals; and lead guitarist, Seth Morrison. As the lights flashed behind them, transforming the stage into a glowing, Technicolor ball, the band immediately launched into its hit song: Awake and Alive. 
 
On the main floor of the gymnasium, fans bounced as if they were in the final stages of a bungee freefall and pointed a single finger toward heaven. Thousands of voices formed a backdrop to the lyrics and infused the band with their positive energy.
 
Mara was on her feet --- camera forgotten-- caught up in the excitement of the moment. Her heart lifted with joy as she felt the driving beat of the music combined with the passionate lyrics: ‘Stand my ground and never back down… I know what I believe inside… Now it’s my time… I’ll do what I want. Cause this is my time.’
 
Four white plumes erupted from the stage floor with the final refrain -- ‘Waking up… Waking up… Waking up in the dark’. 
 
Mara spied Gabe out of the corner of her eye. His lips were parted and he stood very still, seemingly enthralled by the musicians. Wiping a single tear from her cheek, she lifted a silent prayer -- God, to you be the praise.
 
 
  
 
 
~~~ to be continued ~~~
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 

Author Notes This novel is intended for Christian teens in the age group of 12-15. Please keep that in mind when reviewing. Thanks!

Terms:

Nikon: Brand of Camera
Sweet: Great

Popular and perfect artwork by VMarguarite: Spiritual Solace. Many thanks VM!

Skillet is a wildly popular Christian Alternative Rock Band.


Chapter 4
Show me who I am.

By Writingfundimension

PREVIOUSLY:

Teenager, Mara Devlan, is given the gift of two concert tickets to see her favorite Christian Rock Band, Skillet. She invites along her only real friend, Jujee, but ends up being abandoned as Jujee goes off to sit with friends from their church. A young man from Mara's Spanish class. Gabe Sanders takes the opportunity to introduce himself and makes an offer. He's there to review the concert for a local paper and, not being Christian, wants to interview Mara as a way to get perspective for why these types of bands are popular. Mara agrees, and he takes the seat planned for Jujee.

**********

Mara turned her head in Gabe’s direction in a slow arc of movement. Her eyes were bright with tears, and her face glowed with a light that reflected her joy just as surely as a cloud reflects the rays of a setting sun. “Gabe, I’ve never felt closer to Jesus than I do right now.” Her gaze moved to the dispersing crowd; and she said in a sweet, sad voice, “I don’t want this feeling to end.”

“I can see why Skillet has such a huge following,” Gabe responded. His focus was on the stage, as well, where t-shirted technicians stacked equipment with practiced efficiency. In short order, they would load it onto the waiting motor coaches and head off into the night for the next leg of the concert tour. “They’re very good musicians, and they know how to play to the crowd.”

“Play to the crowd?” Mara’s voice dripped with disapproval. She stepped sideways and placed a hand on the back of a chair to steady herself. “You make them sound selfish. Like what they do isn’t for God’s glory but their own.” Her eyes demanded Gabe's attention as she continued, "I think they do this because they know Jesus came to save all souls, and they want to inspire Christians to share that message. It’s not an ego trip; it’s a mission.” 

Gabe slid a hand into his jeans pocket. “What you just said… can I quote you in the article?” His chin dipped, and his lips lifted into a  grin, emphasizing a prominent dimple.
 
Mara sighed and dropped her arm to her side. She felt a warm glow behind her breastbone, and before she realized the magic of Gabe’s charm was working its way through her, nodded her approval. “I guess so. It’s how I feel, so I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” Pointing a finger at his chest, she added, “But I want to see a copy of the article before it’s finalized.”

“I’ll have a first draft ready Sunday night.” He took a small pad and pen from his pocket and handed them to Mara. “Write down your e-mail address, and I’ll shoot you a copy of it before class on Monday. You can let me know then if you’re okay with it.”

Mara scribbled the address on the page and handed the book back to Gabe. His jacket was zipped up to the neck, and he looked anxious to get moving. Mara was tempted to let the topic of her photography slide, but decided she needed to have an answer.

“I’ll be downloading my pictures into Photoshop sometime tomorrow,” Mara said. “If I send you a file, will you look at them to see if any would fit for the article?”

Seconds passed before Gabe nodded his head. “Something else we can talk about on Monday,” he said.

The notion Gabe didn't intend to keep his part of the bargain crept into her brain, but she pushed it aside. It’s not like he had to come up with a line so he could sit next to you because you're such a babe.

Words rushed out to cover her doubt. “Okay, that’d be great. Just remember they’re gonna be rough. I won’t have time to edit in Photoshop before school on Monday. My family spends most of the Sunday morning and afternoon at the church…” her voice tapered off into an awkward moment.

Gabe was distracted by a buzzing noise they both could hear coming from inside his backpack. He dropped it onto the seat and rummaged around until he found the source of the noise. He pulled out what, to Mara, looked like a very expensive phone, and ran his finger down the screen, stopping to read a message. He looked up, and she could see a tightness around his mouth that hadn’t been there all evening.

"My brother sent me a text telling me if I’m not at the car in fifteen minutes, he’s leaving.” He took out a ball cap matching his Michigan State sweatshirt, slapped it on his head and turned the brim backward. “After you read my article,” he said, “if you still want to be on board, I’ll talk with my editor about including one or two of your photographs.”

Gabe turned to leave, then hesitated. “Things didn't go as I expected tonight.” His voice was kind, and Mara felt her pulse step up when he added, “I had fun.” He flashed her a V-sign and hurried toward the exit.

"I did, too, Gabe,” Mara whispered. She watched his back until he disappeared through the entrance. The spell she’d been under evaporated the second he was out of her sight. Looking at her watch, Mara was shocked at the time. Dad's waiting in the parking lot, and I promised him we wouldn't hang around talking with friends after the concert.

Mara packed up the camera equipment with as much haste as was possible without damaging any of it. She grabbed up her jacket and scarf and, with one last look at the empty stage, rushed off to meet up with Jujee.

Spying Mara coming down the hallway toward her, Jujee ran up alongside and grabbed her arm, nearly upending her shoulder bag. “Hey, where’ve you been?” she hissed in Mara’s ear. “I texted you… like… fifteen times! Brooklynn and Sarah offered to take me home when I didn’t hear back from you.” 

“Sorry, Jujee. I got caught up in a conversation with… someone… and didn’t realize the time. I’m sure Dad is wondering if we've gotten lost." Mara hoped that'd be the end of it, but Jujee wouldn't back off. She jumped in front of Mara, stopping her dead in her tracks. “I thought I saw a dark-haired guy sitting next to you,” Jujee pressed, “but I couldn’t get a good look at him from where I was sitting.”

Mara tried to push past Jujee but the girl would not be deterred. Narrowing her eyes, Jujee peered into Mara’s face and continued to grill her, “You look different… kinda wired or something. C’mon, give it up. Who were you sitting with?”

Telling Jujee will be like telling the whole school, but I don't see any way out of this outside of a lie.

"The guy next to me was Gabe Sanders -- from our Spanish class -- he was at the concert to review Skillet's performance for The Beat, and we decided to watch the show together. He might add a couple of my pictures to the review."

Jujee’s mouth formed a shape closely resembling that of a gasping carp. “YOU sat next to Gabe Sanders?” she shrieked. Her hands flew up in the air and came slapping down against her thighs. “Shut up!”

Mara’s eyes narrowed, and spots of red blossomed on her cheeks. “Jujee, you have to promise me you won’t go around blabbing about this. I had an empty seat next to me – as you know – and Gabe… well, it was just because I was taking pictures, and he was writing the article. Don’t make this into a big deal.”

Setting her bags on the floor, Mara twisted her scarf up and around her neck and the lower part of her face. “Do you think you could maybe take one of these bags?" Her remark was sharp, but Jujee seemed super-glued to the spot and didn't react.

Mara snapped her fingers in front of her friend’s face, then pointed to one of the bags on the floor. “A little help would be nice… Dad’s got to be getting frantic by now.”  

Bending to lift the smallest bag, Jujee muttered, “Gabe Sanders and you. I just can’t wrap my mind around it.”
 
Mara slung the case holding the camera equipment over her shoulder and turned away. She had to fight, with every ounce of her will, to keep from telling Jujee to get lost. Her words stung and, in Mara’s mind, showed how little Jujee thought of her. It was the last straw, and seriously threatened to ruin the magical night.
 
 I won’t let that happen. Whatever the reason Gabe Sanders came into my life tonight, only God knows. But I’m glad he did. She kept moving without any thought of whether Jujee was keeping up with her. She frankly no longer cared.

                                                                                ****

Through the car window, Mara watched the familiar store fronts, neon-glowing fast food restaurants and neighborhoods pass by, feeling as if she needed to pinch her hand to prove she hadn’t imagined the last few hours. Beside her, Jujee sat with her phone in her lap, and Mara considered she might be texting the ‘news’ to some of their friends despite her plea otherwise.
 
Her father broke the silence. “You're awfully quiet, you two. Did you have a good time?”

“Yup, it was awesome, Mr. Devlan,” Jujee’s voice was as smooth as warm honey. She shifted her body to face Mara and addressed her for the first time since getting in the car. “How about you, Mara? I tried to get your attention a couple of times, but you were too busy talking to that hot guy next to you to wave back.”

Mara dug her elbow into Jujee's side as a signal to shut up just as she met her father's inquisitive look in the rear-view mirror.

"You didn't sit together?" Mara could hear the disapproval in her father's voice.

As luck would have it, they pulled into Jujee's driveway just then. Grabbing her purse and gloves, she slid across the seat and, with her hand on the door handle, said, “See you Monday, Mara.” She scrambled from the car, pushing the door shut with the heel of her boot. 

Mr. Devlan waited to be sure Jujee was safely inside her house before turning around to face Mara. “Jujee's never that quiet, Mara. What’s going on? You two have a fight?”

Mara sighed. “It’s complicated, Dad.”

“Yes, I gathered as much. It appears Jujee was somewhere else in the auditorium leaving you to spend the concert sitting next to a talkative, attractive young man.”

Mara felt a stab of anxiety. I'm going to have to tell him the truth about Jujee and Gabe, she thought, and I don't know how he'll react. I'm not even sure how I feel about all that's happened.

Her father's eyes hadn't moved from her face, and Mara turned to what helped her through every crisis -- she prayed: Please God, give me the right words to say just like you did to Samuel, Jeremiah and all your prophets. Right now, I need your help!
 
~~ to be continued ~~

Author Notes Dear Readers: Please keep in mind this is a novel that is targeted to a YA audience of Christian teens. I hope you will keep that in mind when reading and reviewing.

Cast of Characters:

Jujee: Fourteen-year old Christian teenager and friend of Mara.
Gabe Sanders: A boy in Mara's Spanish class at school.
Mara: Fourteen-year old Christian teenager.
Skillet: Christian Rock Group.

Terms:
Shut Up: Among teenagers this means no way or you're kidding.

Thanks so much to binder1 for use of the great artwork.


Chapter 5
Hear Me Whisper in the Dark

By Writingfundimension

PREVIOUS CHAPTER:

Mr. Devlan waited to be sure Jujee was safely inside her house before turning around to face Mara. "Jujee's never that quiet. What's going on? You two have a fight?"

Mara sighed. "It's complicated, Dad."

"Yes, I gathered as much. It appears Jujee was somewhere else in the auditorium leaving you to spend the concert sitting next to a talkative, attractive young man."

Mara felt a stab of anxiety. I'm going to have to tell him the truth about Jujee and Gabe, she thought, and I don't know how he'll react. I'm not even sure how I feel about all that's happened tonight.

Her father's eyes hadn't moved from her face, and Mara turned to what helped her through every crisis -- she prayed: Please God, give me the right words to say just like you did for Samuel, Jeremiah and all your prophets. Right now, I need your help!

**********
“I didn’t do anything wrong… I promise.” Mara’s gloved hands gripped the top of the seat. Her upper lip trembled, and she hoped her dad wouldn't notice. “Jujee’s a total drama queen, and she’s also jealous. She’s had a crush on Gabe… uh… Gabe Sanders since school started. I wasn't doing anything to make her jealous, but Jujee hates it when a boy she likes is nice to other girls.” 
 
Her father’s profile was lit by the ivory glow of the dashboard. Mara thought he looked more curious than annoyed, and she felt encouraged to continue. “Lots of girls like Gabe – he’s funny and…”
 
“Hot,” Scott Devlan interrupted. “That's how Jujee described him, and I'm not too old to know that means good looking.” He looked in the direction of the side entrance through which Jujee disappeared only a minute before, then back at Mara. Reaching across and folding his palm over her fingers, he continued, “What’s important to me… and your mother... is whether the concert was as much fun as you hoped it’d be.” He squeezed her hand and grinned, “Hearing Skillet in person… was that not awesome?”
 
Mara’s heart swelled with relief. “I didn’t want the concert to end, Dad,” she said in a spilling of images and words that she knew could never match the experience. “I was just blown away by how great a band they are. They did four encores because we just couldn’t stand to let them leave the stage.”  
 
Scott Devlan was smiling as he reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number. “Since the concert was all your mom's idea, there'll be no living with her now. I need to let her know we’re almost home,” he said. “I’m sure she’s got her nose glued to the window, waiting for us to pull into the driveway.”
 
As the car's engine idled, Mara’s thoughts folded inward. She fiddled with her faux-fur trimmed gloves and picked lint off her purple tights. The memory of Gabe's warm brown eyes and the way his hair curled around his ears kept popping up like bubblegum.
 
I wasn’t totally truthful with Dad. I’m one of those girls with a crush on Gabe. But how much do I need to share with my parents? Can’t I keep some feelings and thoughts to myself?  
 
Her dad's chuckle pulled her back to the moment. "She had a great time and, apparently, made a new friend. What? Why don't you ask her? I'm passing the phone back.”  
 
Mara always held the phone slightly away from her ear when talking with her mother. Kris Devlan had been a professional singer and, when excited, tended to project her voice – a habit attributed to her extensive vocal training.  
 
"You had fun, honey?” Mara met her father’s eyes in the rearview mirror and fought the urge to laugh when he grabbed his head. They often joked about the volume of her mother’s voice which, right then, was louder than usual.
 
“I totally did, Mom. Except for something that happened because of Jujee. But I can tell you and Dad all about it when I get home.”
 
“Okay, but I’m not surprised there was a problem.”
 
Mara sensed anger in her mother’s voice, but for once she didn’t feel like defending Jujee. ”I didn’t let it ruin the concert for me, Mom.”
 
“That’s my girl,” Kris Devlan replied. “Your father says you’re about ten minutes away, and I’m guessing you might be hungry since you didn’t take the time to eat dinner before the concert. Do you want a turkey sandwich?"  
 
"That'd be great. Now that you mention it, I am hungry." 
 
"Mayo or mustard?"
 
"Um... mustard with a smidgen of mayo.” 
 
“You got it… see you in a few…”
 
                                                                                     *****
 
The smell of simmering peppermint and her mom's heart-shaped face, wreathed in a smile, greeted Mara as she came through the back entrance. 
 
 "You look tired," Kris Devlan remarked. She helped Mara out of her jacket and hooked her arm through her daughter’s, leading her through the living room and into the kitchen. The table was set for three -- the plates loaded with sandwiches and potato salad. The source of the peppermint smell came from a copper pot on the stovetop.
 
"Great, you made a batch of my favorite hot cocoa," Mara gushed. For as long as she could remember, holidays and special events included a batch of her mother's peppermint cocoa. 

Mara dropped into the chair at the center of the table and bent over to wrestle with her shoes. Once off, she pushed them underneath the table and rubbed her sore and swollen feet. When her stomach announced its need for food, Mara fought the urge to snatch the sandwich from the plate and wolf it down. Instead, she kept her hands in her lap and watched her mother pour cocoa into the mugs. When her father entered the room, and they were all seated at the table, the three of them linked hands. Scott Devlan spoke his gratitude, “Thank you, God, for this food we eat and for the abundance of your love that it represents. Amen.”

 
Mara was into the third bite of her sandwich when she felt her mother’s eyes on her. “Your father tells me you made a new friend at the concert. I’m thinking that means Jujee took off on you again, leaving you to sit alone.”
 
Not for the first time, Mara was shocked by how her mother knew things without being told. She set her sandwich on the plate and swallowed a few times before meeting her mother’s gaze. This is it. I need to get this right. 
 
"Before the concert started,” Mara began, “we met up with some kids from Mt. Zion. They… like… talked Jujee into sitting with them.” She felt embarrassed to admit that her best friend couldn’t wait to ditch her in order to hang with the cool kids. I should leave it at that, but I need to own this part. Looking from her mother to her father and back again, she added, “Jujee did ask me if it would make me mad if she wanted to sit somewhere else.” She looked down before continuing so her parents wouldn’t see the pain that caused her. “I told her she was free to sit wherever she wanted.”
 
Kris Devlan reached over and stroked her daughter’s arm. "Mara, a friend that has been gifted with a concert ticket to celebrate your birthday wouldn't have considered sitting with someone else even if you were generous enough to offer. I know she's been your friend since kindergarten, but you need to address this issue with her, and soon!"
 
"I know, Mom. It's just hard to get the right words out... she's been there for me lots of other times." Mara took a bite of her sandwich and a sip of cocoa to steady herself before continuing her story. "A boy I recognized from Spanish class overheard the conversation and asked if he could move into the empty seat next to me. He's writing a review of the band for a small local paper devoted to music and asked me a lot of questions about Christian rock music. He even suggested attaching one of my pictures to the article."
 
"Is this ‘hot’ young man a Christian, Mara?" Scott Devlan asked. He winked at the surprised look on his wife’s face and mouthed, “Later.”   
 
"He said he doesn't attend any special church, Dad. I'm not sure he'd have stayed for the whole concert if we hadn't, sort of, made a deal that he’d consider using some of my photographs. But he did stay, and I hope he writes a great article that gets people more interested in awesome messengers like Skillet."
 
Mara’s father leaned back into his chair, sipped his cocoa and smacked his lips with satisfaction. “It sounds to me that God placed this young man in your path tonight for a reason, Mara. Your mother and I feel you’re too young to date, as you know, but this sounds like a sharing of ideas and creativity. That’s always the best way to do God’s work -- by listening and sharing.” He nodded his head in a non-verbal passing of the baton to his wife.
 
Kris Devlan rose from her chair and stepped behind her daughter. Kneading the knots from Mara’s shoulders, her words held both a soothing and comforting note. “I agree 100% with your father. You made lemonade from lemons, and we’re just glad you found a way to enjoy yourself.” Grabbing up Mara’s plate, she set about clearing the table, adding, “I’m sure all you want right now is a hot shower and a nice, warm bed."
 
“I’m totally ready to crash,” Mara agreed. Exhaustion had snuck up on her now that the truth was out and the adrenaline high of the evening had burned down. She rose from her chair and kissed her parents good night. With a hand to her chest, she added, "I'll remember this night for a really long time and... um... thanks, you guys, for all of it...the concert and the understanding."  
 
                                                                                         *****
 
Mara placed the Bible she'd been reading on the bedside table and turned off the light. A soft, white glow from the night's full moon penetrated her window shade. She pulled her blanket up under her chin and snuggled deep into her menagerie of pillows and stuffed bears. Shutting her eyes, the concert's closing scene rose up in her mind.
 
Hundreds of Bic lighters pierced the darkness of the auditorium as Skillet looked out on a hushed crowd. In a mingling of voices, strangers and friends 
came together, filling the auditorium with their praise: 'You'll never be alone... when darkness comes, I'll light the night with stars...' 

Author Notes Dear Reader,

Please keep in mind that this is intended for a YA Christian audience of ages 13-15.

Thank you!

Cast of Characters:
Kris Devlan: Mara's mother
Mara Devlan: Fourteen-year-old freshman
Scott Devlan: Mara's father
Jujee Mattson: Mara's best friend
Gabe Sanders: Fourteen-year-old freshman from Mara's Spanish class
Skillet: A Christian Rock Band

Terms:

Blown away: Impressed
Crash: Relax
Smidgen: Small amount
Wolf: Eat very quickly

Thanks to AvMurray for the great artwork!


Chapter 6
You Light Up the Night

By Writingfundimension

PREVIOUSLY: Mara has attended her first-ever Christian Rock concert. Along with her best friend, Jujee, she's looking forward to an awesome experience. However, Jujee ditches her to sit with the cooler kids, leaving Mara alone and devastated. A boy from her Spanish class overhears the conversation and introduces himself. They end up spending the concert together. In order to convince her parents this was not a date, Mara informs them Gabe was at the concert to write a review and may be willing to use her photographs to accompany the article. What she does not tell them is that she has a secret crush on Gabe Sanders.

          **********



Mara spread the prints of the concert photographs in a straight line across the table. Gabe picked up each picture and studied it, giving no indication of his opinion either way. Mara’s stomach quivered with anxiety. The longer he lingered, the more foolish she felt. Why’d I think he’d be interested in my pictures? I’m a total amateur, and he’s gonna tell me to get lost. 

     Gabe laid down all but one of the pictures. He tapped his finger on the print she, too, favored while his eyes sought hers. “This is an awesome shot, Mara. If you’re cool with it, I’d like to submit this to my editor.” 

     Mara's face lit up with joy. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like any of them.” 

     Gabe reached to where Mara’s hand rested on the table. He lifted her hand and, one by one, he straightened her fingers. His lips curved in a slow smile and he said, “You’re as talented as you are pretty. What do I have to do to make you see I’m telling you the truth?”

     His skin, where it touched hers, created a delicious sensation--something so new she struggled to find a way to express what she was feeling. A loud bang made her jump in her chair, wiping away the words she’d formed in her mind.

     The banging grew louder, accompanied by a disembodied voice: “What’s taking you so long, Mara? We have to be out the door in ten minutes.”

     Mara's arms shot out from beneath her blankets, pulling her body upright. She zeroed in on the bedside clock and groaned when she realized it was the Sunday after the Skillet concert and she’d overslept.

     Kris Devlan knocked two more times and added, “Mara, do you hear me?”  

     “Mom, I HEAR you," she yelled back. "I'll be right down."

     Throwing back her blankets, Mara slid her legs across the sheets and onto the floor. Combing her fingers through her hair, she pushed down her disappointment. I can’t believe it was a dream, she thought. It felt so real.

     Mara forced herself to stand. Dragging her feet across the floor to the bathroom, she longed to be back in her bed, deep in the dream and wrapped in the warmth of Gabe’s attention.

     No time for a shower. Her hair was a jumbled mass and it took precious minutes to get the tangles out. Arranging it into a loose braid, Mara tossed it over her shoulder. She noticed a dark red spot on the side of her nose. "Ugh. Just what I need right now is a ginormous pimple." She ran into her bathroom and dug through her make-up drawer for a tube of concealer. To offset the pasty look it created, she applied peach blush to her cheeks.

    She moved to her bedroom dresser and stood in front of it, picturing where she'd put her pair of black jeans. Oh, yeah, the bottom drawer. She pulled out the jeans and found a layer of white fuzz from the sweater she'd laid on top of them. Darn! I'll have to take the lint brush with to take care of this later.

     Looking around, she located her backpack on top of her bookcase. She'd hoped to wear her Skillet tee-shirt to church, partly to fit in with the other teens who'd attended the Skillet concert and would, undoubtedly be wearing theirs today. She located the shirt still in its plastic bag and held it up for closer examination. The previous night she'd been so preoccupied with Gabe and the excitement of the concert she hadn't bother to check it over. The tag indicated it was medium-sized when she'd requested a large.

     Mara slipped it over head hoping for the best, but didn't need the mirror to confirm that it was too tight across her chest. That’s just great. My only memorabilia from the concert and I can’t even wear the stupid thing.

     She balled up the offending object and threw it into the corner, then pulled on a sweater that she’d worn, like, a million times before.

     “Mara,” her mother yelled up the stairs. “We need to leave now. Your father says the roads are slippery, and we’ve got less than twenty minutes to get across town.”

     “I’m coming,” she shouted. Grabbing her Bible from the nightstand and shoving it to the bottom of her backpack, Mara slid her feet into a pair of warm boots and headed downstairs.

                                                                                                              ***

     Kris scooped the last bit of her oatmeal into her mouth and placed the bowl in the sink. She turned as Mara entered the kitchen and repressed the urge to comment on her daughter’s somber mood. She'd expected Mara to be sparkling with happiness after her big night. Instead, she looked downcast, and her mother noted the little care she took in picking out her clothes for church. I suppose it's natural to feel a bit let down after last night's high. She'll feel better once we get to church. 

     Zipping up her jacket, Kris crossed to the closet, lifted a scarf from a hook and wrapped it around her neck. Over her shoulder, she advised Mara to do the same: "I think a scarf would be a good idea. The wind's extra cold today."

    Kirs turned to where her husband came in from the garage after warming up the family's second car and making sure there was a carafe of coffee for his wife and tea for Mara waiting in the console. He’d be coming to church later to join his wife for the 11 a.m. adult service while Mara would join the Rev-A-Teen group offering a program geared towards the teenagers of Mt. Zion. It was a long day as Mara and Kris were part of Associate Pastor Liz Sherwood's Kids-Connected ministry, too, which allowed parents to enjoy an earlier service in the main sanctuary knowing their children, simultaneously, learned about their Christian faith in a dynamic environment.

     Scott kissed his wife's cheek and said, "I'm worried about you traveling the roads this morning. There's a sheen of ice across the whole driveway. I know you'll be careful--it's the other people on the road I worry about. So, when you get to church give me a call."

     "Will do, Honey," Kris replied as she followed Mara out the door. 

                                                                                                                ***

     Kris loved the children's ministry with the kind of passion that comes from a heart on fire for the Lord. She once testified about her commitment before the larger congregation as part of a Grow-It movement within her church, encouraging members to utilize their God-given talents. She spoke of her part in the children’s ministry and her words rang with authority. “Kids with confidence and a deep knowing of the beliefs and expectations of their Christian faith hold the key to a better future for all of us. Imagine a world of young people on fire for the Lord. Well, that’s what we’re doing here at Mt. Zion.” Pointing to a toddler in the front row, she continued, “We start with the 'least' among us, inspiring them to be the change this world needs.”
 
     Mara, too, joined the children’s ministry when she became of age because of her own experience growing up in the program. When she was five, her parents moved to the small town of Haslett. They discovered Mt. Zion through a reference from the pastor back in Illinois where they used to live.
 
     Scott and Kris fell in love with the church the first Sunday they attended. Following the service, they stopped at Denny’s for waffles. Scott entwined his fingers with Kris’s, looking happy as a cat exiting a pile of catnip. Kris leaned across the table and asked, “What are you thinking?”

     He leaned forward onto his elbows. “I can’t believe our luck. Not only is Pastor Wayne an outstanding speaker, but the caliber of the music is exceptional,” he gushed. “I mean, we had good music back home in Illinois, but it was piped in. This church has a drum set, electric guitars, piano, and even a horn. I’ve never heard anything like it.” Since both loved music, it was a defining moment in the commitment to Mt. Zion – a decision they’d never once regretted.

     The very next week, Kris enrolled Mara in the Kids-Connect program. She knew her daughter found it hard to be separated from her, and hoped that Mara might learn to trust other adults in the safe environment provided by church.

     Mt. Zion had an excellent system whereby each child was assigned a number, which was pinned to their chest. If the child became frightened or unruly, there was a board in the main sanctuary that would light up with the child’s number giving the parents a heads-up that a situation was developing.
 
     At first, it was tough leaving Mara with strange people, no matter how kind and gentle they appeared. For three months of consecutive Sundays, Kris had to leave the service early when Mara’s number lit up the board. In her own time, Mara got used to the set-up, even looking forward to Sunday services so she could ‘play’ with her friends.
 
     When she announced she wanted to be part of the ministry, Kris gave her husband a knowing smile. It had been their hope that Mara would want to have a personal investment in the church, and they were pleased with her decision. It required being at the church by 8:00 A.M. in order to set up chairs and gather teaching materials for the older children. A separate area held toys and small tables and chairs for the younger children to color and play.
 
                                                                                                     ***

     “Mawa, mawa,” five-year-old, Mazie squealed on seeing her idol come through the door. She ran across the room full-tilt, bumping into Violet, her sister and knocking the toddler onto her butt. Immediately, Violet let out a scream causing her mother to rush to her side, but Mazie only had eyes for Mara.

     Dropping her backpack onto the seat of a folding chair, Mara knelt and opened her arms and her young fan flew into them, saying, “I fought you weren’t coming.” 

     Mara first hugged her tight, then set her back on the floor. Mazie’s heart-shaped face was lit with joy and through her grin, Mara spied empty spaces that previously held teeth. She cupped the little blonde’s face in her hands and said, “I slept in a little bit, but I’m here now, Munchkin.”

     Mazie giggled and pointed a finger at her own chest. “Munchin, that’s me.”

     “That’s right, Mazie.”  

     Wiggling herself into a position where she could wrap her arms around Mara’s waist, she laid her head against the teenager's shoulder and announced, “I wuv you, Mawa.”

     “I love you, too,” Mara said as she rested her head on top of Mazie's. The warmth of the moment cast her worries about Jujee and Gabe into the background.  

     Holding out her hand, Mazie counted off four fingers. “I wuv you, momma, daddy and Jethus. That four right?"

    “Why, yes it is. That’s very good. But what about Violet?"

     Mazie didn’t answer and Mara felt she shouldn’t push the little girl to tell a lie. “It’s okay if you don’t always like your little sister,” she said in a soft voice. “Jesus understands because he had brothers and sisters, too.”

     “Jethus knowths everthing, doesn’t He?” 

     Mara caught Kris's eye from across the room. A rush of love flowed between them. Looking down into the hazel eyes that offered so much unspoken trust, Mara leaned in close and said, “Yes He does, Munchkin. I think Jesus is the best friend we could ever have.”

 
~~~ to be continued ~~~
 

 
 

Author Notes Dear Reviewer,

Please take into consideration that this is a YA novel for 13-15 year-olds when reviewing.

Thanks!

Cast of Characters:

Kris Devlan: Mother of Mara
Mara Devlan: Fourteen-year-old High School student
Scott Devlan: Father of Mara
Mazie Fortin: Four-year-old participant in the Kids-Connect
Gabe Sanders: Mara's classmate

Thanks to CammyCards for the use of your excellent artwork!


Chapter 7
Jujee's Story

By Writingfundimension

THE STORY SO FAR: Mara Devlan is being raised in a conservative, Christian home. Her parents, though strict on certain matters, love their daughter and freely show their affection. Mara is used to having healthy boundaries with adults, but not so much with her flighty best friend, Jujee. After inviting Jujee to come as her guest to a Skillet concert--the tickets being a surprise gift from her parents--she finds herself abandoned by Jujee before the show even begins. The sting of rejection is replaced by amazement when she is approached by a fellow freshman--a boy she has a secret crush on. She is not allowed to date, but when Gabe tells her that he wants to team up with her to write an article on the Skillet concert by using her photographs, they spend the remainder of the concert sitting together. Everything is going fine until Jujee blurts out the news to Mara's father when he drops her off at her home after the concert.

**********  


Jujee turned off the porch light and stood in the dark watching the Devlan automobile recede into the distance. Why did I snitch on Mara when she asked me not to mention the boy who sat next to her at the concert? Her hands gripped the straps of her backpack, and she sighed. What’s done is done, she concluded, firmly pushing back the niggling of her conscience. Mara’ll understand—she always does.

She passed through the kitchen, noting the burned-down candle in the center of the dining room table and two plates. A half-eaten steak and baked potato lay abandoned on one of the plates. The other one held bones with bits of meat attached, and she guessed it likely belonged to her mother’s latest boyfriend, Jared.

He was twenty-three and an inch shorter than her mother. His biceps were muscled to the max, and he obviously had a love for tanning booths—his skin was bronze even in the dead of winter.

Jared’s persistent attempts to draw her into the conversation pushed Jujee further inside herself. His eyes were hard, and he had an insinuating smile. Worse was the way he touched her every chance he got and looked at her breasts—even when her mother was around. "Creep,” she thought. “Why does she let him get away with that stuff?” 

Jujee stopped in front of the window facing the alley behind her house. Jared’s pick-up was parked next to the snow-laced lilac bushes. She considered concealing her presence from them by sleeping on the couch and slipping out to church early the next morning. But she knew her mother would throw a screaming fit if she thought she'd not followed explicit instruction to come straight home from the concert.   

Feeling the pain from where she gnawed at the inside of her cheek, Jujee forced her jaws to relax. Like it or not, her best course of action was to get to her upstairs bedroom fast and lock the door.

The staircase wood was warped and it creaked no matter where she placed her feet. Passing by her mother's bedroom she caught the edges of music and coarse laughter. Stomach churning, she crossed the threshold of her bedroom and nudged the door shut with her heel. Only when she slid the deadbolt into place did she feel able to breathe. Her uncle had installed it the week before at her insistence.

Tina, Jujee’s mother, showed no outward concern when she found out her brother, Steven, had installed the extra security. Her reaction was as disappointing as it was typical.

“Probably not a bad idea, Stevie. This neighborhood’s going all to hell. Kids who couldn’t grow a decent beard if their life depended on it drive around with gangbangers, doing God only knows what. Working double shifts like I do,” she paused and turned troubled eyes in the direction of her daughter, “I’ll be able to relax a bit with the extra precautions.”

Jujee whipped her head in the direction of her uncle, willing him to be totally honest based on what she'd told him: That she was more afraid of what was inside the walls of her home than without. Instead, he'd shrugged his shoulders in a ‘what you gonna do’ manner, gathered his tools and left.

Leaning back against the door, she closed her eyes and imagined her dead father dispensing heavenly justice by sending down bolts of punishing anger on the two across the hall. Despite a pang of guilt for her thoughts of vengeance, the image made her smile. Miss you so much, Dad.

Under the scrutiny of the moon, split in half by the top of her window, she undressed and added the clothes to the growing pile at the foot of her bed. Shoving the clothes out of sight with her foot, she pledged to get caught up on the laundry the next day.

Opening the middle dresser drawer, and pulling out a pink night shirt with Purr-fect in gold across the front, she slipped it on. In two bounds, she was in her bed with the bedcovers pulled up to her nose. Her skin, where it touched the cold sheets, grew goose pimples. She reached for the power switch to her electric blanket and cranked it up as high as it would go.

Her mother controlled their electric bill by having the thermostat on the furnace drop to 62 degrees after 10 P.M. With the outside temperature likely in the teens by this time of the night, Jujee curled into a ball and waited for the bed to warm.
 
When she’d first complained about how cold it was in the house, her mother looked up from her issue of Vogue magazine and studied her daughter as if she’d just popped in from an alternate universe. “Well, young lady,” she finally said, “If you remember, I have to come up with an extra $150.00, to finance your weekend in Petoskey with the church people. Since you don’t make enough from babysitting, the money has to come from somewhere.” Jujee was stunned by her mother’s malice, especially since it was a spiritual retreat and not a vacation. She'd staged a protest by stomping up the stairs and slamming her door twice for emphasis.

Rather than go another round with her parent, the teenager turned next to her grandmother. “The windows in my room are coming away from the sash and the cold air pours in on windy nights, Gram. I promise I’ll only use the electric blanket in an emergency.” As expected, her grandmother gave her one, and Jujee kept her word on the spare use of it. Since her mother seldom entered her room, the blanket had slipped under the parent radar.

Once her bed warmed and her limbs had relaxed, she turned off the switch. Glancing at the clock, she cringed at the late hour and the fact she would get, at best, six hours of sleep before she needed to get up for church.

I can skip church. I’m not in charge of snacks this week, so it’s not like I’d be leaving anyone in the lurch.  
 

Jujee’s conscience chose an opportune time to suggest she might have an underlying reason for skipping church services. It reminded her how badly she’d treated Mara that evening by ditching her to sit with the kids from Mt. Zion’s youth group. Even worse, she’d maybe gotten Mara in trouble over Gabe Sanders. The Devlan's never missed church, so she could not avoid seeing them.
 
Her jealousy switch flipped on as she pictured Mara and Gabe laughing, maybe even touching hands across the seat. Why would a hot guy be attracted to Mara? She’s my best friend, and I wouldn’t say this out loud to her, but she looks and acts like a nerd! I’m not the only one that thinks so either.

Turning on her side and pounding her pillow into shape, she made her mind to attend church after all because there was no way she was going to miss getting to the bottom of the situation. "I’ll make a point of waiting for Mara in the hall outside the nursery," she whispered into the darkness. "There has to be an underlying motive to Gabe's behavior. I just know it, and I plan to find out what it is.”

~~~
 
Dear Reader,

Please keep in mind this is a YA novel intended for Christian teens when reviewing. Thank you!

WFD

Author Notes Cast of Characters:
Jujee Morris: High School Freshman.
Linda Morris: Jujee's widowed mother.
Mara Devlan: Jujee's best friend and fellow freshman.
Steven Morris: Jujee's maternal uncle.
Gabe Sanders: Mara and Jujee's classmate.

A big thank you to pixs for the accompanying artwork.


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