“Does your floor have something planned? Is that what you’ve been doing with Austin and Haymitch all covertly?”
“Our big prank is postponed for now. How are your parents?”
“Mm-hm.” It’s only fair that he can keep a secret. “My phone’s been blowing up with the family text chain. My dad somehow just now discovered GIFs. He’s quite enamored with the concept.” I shake my head. “I miss him. I miss all of them so much. I should call more, but it’s weird talking to my brothersand dad on FaceTime. I never had to until this year, and we’re still not used to it.”
Levi smiles sadly. “Are you sure I?—”
“What about your brother? Everett? Is he still in Europe?”
“He’s back for now, taking a break before law school next year. We used to be buddies, but”—he shrugs a shoulder—“since I left, we don’t have much in common anymore. Oh look, we’re here.” Like the door has saved him.
I have my card out to badge in, but I pause by the door and twirl it in my hands like Allegra Cole. “Hey, Levi?”
“Hey, friend.” Mm, that soft, lazy voice.
“Thanks for sharing with me about your family,” I say. “I like it when you tell me things.”
“Anything.”
On that serious note, I call a “good night” and bolt inside. At least I don’t fail to badge in for an eternity, like that one time. When I’m safely out of view, I stop and lean against the wall, pressing my hands onto my face.
What am I doing? Are you shaking your head at me?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
After his next game,Levi leads me past the pond toward Saga. “So, my family has been on my mind since our last discussion.” Is that his formal voice?
“Tell me more.” I twist to him playfully.
He softens with affection. “I want to be … more intentional about being Jesus’s love to them. Do you have any advice?”
“Oh. I’m honored.”
Is there something you want me to say?
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see me.
“This sounds kind of random, but one of the Beatitudes comes to mind. ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.’”
He releases the air from his cheeks. “That’s helpful. Thank you.”
I tap the side of my leg, trying to wait. “Well?” I lift my shouldersand lean toward him, like I’m trying to get away with something.
A smile tugs at his cheek. “I think I’m hearing two things. First, that God wants my whole heart.” He gestures to his tattoo. “And second … I wish they would just be real with me. I’m going to do my best to do that for them.”
Yes, God. Open their hearts. Help them be real with each other.
“I’m giving you some excellent practice,” I say primly.
He chuckles with me and nudges my arm with his water bottle. “Thank you.”
My insides ache with some unknown emotion. I wish yet again that I could hug him.
“The thing is … my father used to rail on me constantly. He’d sit at his desk and make me stand there while he told me all the ways I was failing him. As if he would seem capable and stable if Everett and I were. I can tell Jesus is changing my heart slowly, helping me let go of the anger, but …” His water bottle lid is going to break any second. “I’m afraid he thinks I started following Jesus, unenrolled at Yale, left Connecticut because of rebellion or spite. I’m afraid he won’t be able to see that I had to figure stuff out, do things differently, because that life can destroy a person. Jesus said it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to embrace God’s way, and I get it now. I want my father to find the hope that I have, the peace. He’s so relentlessly paranoid about … certain things. I just wonder if I can help him at all if he doesn’t even understand my reasons.”
His honesty is so precious to me. Tenderness swims in my chest along with a thousand indiscernible thoughts. I want to stop and answer the way God wants. I’m not sure I should say anything.
Please give me the right words. Keep me from saying anything that isn’t from you.
