Christy's anger flared. Todd was a lot of things, but he was not a jerk. True, she had called Todd names before in her mind, and jerk had been one of them. But that was different. She could call Todd a jerk, but Rick couldn't.
"Pretty good trade, don't you think? Me for Moondoggie. My bracelet for his."
Rick's last phrase played again in her mind like sour organ notes in a monster movie. My bracelet for his.
Grabbing his wide shoulders and looking him in the eye, she demanded, "Tell me the truth, Rick Doyle. Did you take my bracelet out of my purse?"
He put on an easygoing grin and said calmly, "Come on, Christy, relax. You didn't need that thing anymore. You have my bracelet now."
"You did! You took my bracelet! You had no right to do that. You can't just go into a girl's purse and take what isn't yours and keep it. How dare you! Where is it? I want it back right now!"
Rick looked shocked at her outburst. Then he opened fire on her. "You know what your problem is? You aren't mature enough to handle a real dating relationship! You want to keep all your childhood trinkets and let a perfect relationship go out the window."
"Where's my bracelet, Rick?" Her voice had changed to a low growl.
He stuck out his jaw and looked away from her.
"Where's my bracelet?"
"You're really making me angry, Christy."
She spoke her words with staccato force. "Where. Is. My. Bracelet?"
"I don't have it, all right?" He drew himself up straight in his seat and pointed his finger at her. "You decide right here, right now. Who's it going to be? Me or that surfer jerk? You decide right now, and that's it! Who's it going to be? Tell me!"
Christy had never seen him this angry, and it terrified her. She acted on impulse, opening her car door and taking off running.
"Fine! Go ahead and run. Only this time, Christy Miller, I'm not running after you!"
Hearing his car start, she ran between the buildings so he couldn't follow her down the sidewalk. She stopped at a bench in the deserted office complex and caught her breath. Once it sounded like his car was gone, she started to walk home.
I can't believe this is happening! Did I do the right thing by jumping out of the car? He's so mad he probably won't speak to me for a week. What if he calls? What will I say? I can't help it! I'm still mad he took Todd's bracelet.
When she reached the front of the office complex, there was Rick leaning against his parked car. "This is crazy. Why are we doing this? Come on, get in the car. Let's talk this through." Rick's voice was calm and persuasive.
Christy stood still, staring at her shoes. She didn't want to get in the car. She felt too shaken to let him smooth this one over.
Without looking up, she calmly restated her question. "Where's my bracelet, Rick?"
"You know," he said in a broken voice, "I thought I was doing the best thing for us. I really did." He sounded like he was about to cry.
Christy battled with whether she should keep her distance or go to his side and comfort him. She stayed several feet away but spoke softly. "What did you do, Rick?"
"I didn't want anything to come between us. I had no idea that bracelet meant so much to you. I took it to the jewelry store and traded it for the one I gave you."
"You traded it?" Christy said in a whisper. Then with firm, angry words she said, "You had no right to do that."
"I know. I realize that now. At the time I thought it was the best thing for our relationship. I'm sorry."
She couldn't tell if he was truly sorry or only sorry the trade had backfired on him.
"You don't have to compete with everybody in the world, Rick. You don't have to be jealous of Todd. He's thousands of miles away."
"No, he's not. He's still in your head. I can tell. He's competition. He always has been."
"I can't believe this! Rick, I'm dating you, not Todd. Can't you see how much I've wanted to be with you?"
"What is it about him? Why is he still so important to you? Did he write you love poems or make big promises about your future?"
Christy couldn't help but laugh. "No. Todd has never written me a letter or note of any kind. And he is about the most noncommittal person I've ever known."
"Then what's the deal with him? What makes you so drawn to him?"
Christy had to think about it. Rick was right; some kind of bond existed between her and Todd. How could she explain it?
"I think it's the Lord," Christy said finally. "I think what makes Todd unique is that he prays with me and-"
"We can pray. Is that what you want?"
Christy realized that during the entire time she had known Rick and had been dating him, they had never prayed or even talked about the Lord or spiritual things. "Yeah, I'd like it a lot if we prayed together. But it's not just that. It's..."
In trying to find the words to explain Todd's uniqueness, she remembered how Todd would look when he talked about God. It was a contented, vulnerable, strong-as-a-rock look. That was it. Todd loved Jesus more than anything. How could she explain that to Rick?
"Come here." Rick held out his right hand. "Do you want to try praying with me?"
Christy placed her hands in his. Rick bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Our almighty heavenly Father, we come to You asking for strength and direction in our relationship. Please grant us Your blessing and help us to work through all our problems. Amen."
He lifted his head and looked at her like a little kid waiting for approval. It wasn't anything at all like the way Todd prayed. Nothing about Rick was like Todd. She suddenly realized nothing ever would be. Rick was Rick. Did she really want to be his girlfriend?
"Do you want to go over to my house now? We can pretend all of this never happened and start over," Rick said.
"Actually..." Christy forced herself to finish her sentence before she chickened out. "I think we should break up."
Rick looked at her as if she had told a bad joke. "But we just prayed. And I told you I was sorry about the bracelet. Why would you want to break up?"
"Because I don't think I'm ready to be your girlfriend. I don't think I'm ready to be anybody's girlfriend. I want to go back to being your friend. We got along so much better when we were friends."
Rick ran his fingers through his hair and looked frantic. "I don't get it. I'm trying to do everything right. I've never, ever tried this hard with any girl before. What am I doing wrong?"
"It's not you. It's me. You've said it a couple of times: I'm not ready to have a serious dating relationship. I'd like to slow everything down. It seems like you went from being my buddy to my boyfriend overnight, and that's too fast for me. I think it would be better if we built up our relationship slowly."
"We have been building it up slowly," Rick said. "Or did you forget the nine months I waited to date you?"
"That's exactly it though. I thought you were waiting to date me, not possess me. I'm not ready to go steady--with anybody. I need time for myself, and I want to spend time with my girlfriends without feeling that I have to ask your permission."
Christy thought of other things she wanted to say, but Rick looked so wounded she decided to stop there. He obviously got the point. It surprised her how calm and peaceful she felt for someone who had just broken up with her boyfriend, especially since none of this had been planned or decided ahead of time.
"You know," Rick said, drawing himself up to his full height and looking down on Christy, "I have a lot of pressures on me with starting college and all. I think we should slow things down and give each other a chance to catch up with everything in our lives. I don't know when I'll be back up here for the weekend. Thanksgiving, probably not before. I'll give you a call then. Maybe we can get together and go somewhere just to talk. The time will give us a chance to reevaluate our relationship."
Christy thought it was kind of funny to watch Rick take control of the situation, speaking smooth words like the closing lines of a movie. The way he restated everything, it sounded like he was the one breaking up with her.
"I'll look forward to your call."
Rick looked at her as though she were patronizing him.
"No really, I will! We still have a whole list of dates that you thought up, remember? And I'd like to go on them with you. We can take them one at a time instead of trying to do them all in one week."
Christy tried to sound as light and positive as she could because her emotions were catching up with her prior burst of logic, and she felt a major storm brewing inside.
"I think you should have the bracelet back. I'm always going to be your friend, Rick. But I can't be your girlfriend right now. Could you help me take it off?"
Rick picked the clasp with his thumb and held the bracelet in his fist. "I'm holding on to this," he said tenderly, "because I still think it belongs on your wrist. One day I want to put it back there."
His last statement felt like a clap of thunder, releasing the storm inside Christy. She lowered her head as tears fell on the pavement.
"Can I give my friend a hug?" Rick asked. Christy nodded without looking up.
He wrapped his big arms around her and hugged her good-bye.
Monday morning Christy wanted to stay in bed and skip school. She hadn't touched her homework all weekend, and she was emotionally exhausted. How could she convince Mome that she was sick and needed to stay home?
Her mother saw right through Christy's scheme and gave her twenty minutes to get dressed and out the door.
Christy threw on a sweater and jeans and pulled back her hair in a braid. This was definitely not going to be one of her more glamorous days.
She slid through the first two classes, begging extended time on one of her homework assignments. In third period she wasn't so fortunate.
"Today, class," her literature teacher began, "we shall start our readings of the Victorian poems you've selected. Our first reader will be Christy Miller."
"I left my book in my locker," Christy answered, hoping she could get off the hook.
"That's half a grade off. Take a hall pass to get your book, and let's see if you can manage a passing grade. While Christy gets her book, does anyone else have to retrieve a book from his or her locker?"
When Christy returned to class, another girl was reading her selection, tripping over the thees and thous.
Christy had barely found the right page when the teacher called on her to stand and read. She wished she would have at least looked the poem over before having to read it in front of the class-especially on a day when she looked and felt so yucky.
"'Twice,' by Christina Rossetti," Christy began and then read, I took my heart in my hand
(O my love, O my love),
I said: Let me fall or stand,
Let me live or die,
But this once hear me speak-
(O my love, O my love)-
Yet a woman's words are weak;
You should speak, not I.
You took my heart in your hand
With a friendly smile,
With a critical eye you scanned,