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.