A Work in Progress
The Faith Series, Book 1
by: Staci Stallings
Sometimes faith is simply learning to see
What is right before your eyes.
For the life of her, Rebecca Avery couldn’t understand it. She had been with them twenty-four hours a day for all of five months, and still she had no clue how they did it. Sitting in the student union building, tucked ever-so-carefully behind her new psychology book, she watched them—the beautiful people—milling about, talking, laughing, and just generally enjoying each other’s company.
To be sure she had been with them her whole life, first in her family, then in school, but never could she quite figure out the mystique that seemed to drape them in an aura that said, “Look at me. I’m here. Come, let’s have fun together.”
No, for as long as she could remember, she had been on the outside of that picture. Always watching them, always studying them, but never quite learning how to be like them.
She pushed the strings of the dirt-colored blonde hair off her eyes and pushed up her thin, dark-rimmed glasses. Her hair was up in a clip, but like everything else in her life, it had ways of slipping out of even the best holds. In frustration, she looked down at her book. Psychology class didn’t start until tomorrow night, but at least this way it looked like there was a reason she was alone.
Studying alone was cool—or at least acceptable. Sitting alone staring at everyone else was not. Absently she reached over to her cup; however, she misjudged the distance, and the cup tipped dangerously and then dropped back to the table at the last possible second. In frustration she picked it up to take a drink, but she had already taken a long drink of air before she realized it was empty. She looked down into the brown swirling trails at the bottom of the cup and frowned. Figures.
With a sigh she dug into her pocket and pulled out enough crumpled dollars to buy another French vanilla hot chocolate—one more thing in her life that was less than glamorous. No matter how many times she had tried it, she still hated coffee. Even the smell of it turned her stomach, so she stuck to her hot chocolate and hoped no one noticed. Leaving her book where it lay, she slid off the stool and strode to the counter.
“French vanilla hot chocolate, please.” Her fingers counted out the dollars even as they smoothed them out and laid them on the counter.
In seconds a new cup was sitting in front of her. She paid and reached for it as wisps of steam spiraled into the air. Carefully she picked it up, put it to her lips, and blew the steam away. It was always too hot to drink for the first ten minutes, but greedily she inhaled the sweet odor anyway. There was something about hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day that did wonders for her mood.
She let the cup drop from her mouth as she turned back for her table. However, she’d only turned halfway around when she met up with what felt like the hard side of a rock coming the other direction.
The first splash of the liquid landed on her hand, and the shock from it burning its way through her skin tore through her. “Ahh!” Without a thought she threw the cup away from her—right at the rock, and in the next breath the rock replicated her yell.
“Ahh!” Reaching under his outer buttoned-down shirt that was opened all the way down, he pulled his now hot chocolate-covered white T-shirt away from his skin as he yelped in pain. “H-h-ot!”
“Oh! Oh, no. Oh, my gosh. I’m sorry,” Rebecca said although the stinging pain in her own hand wouldn’t let her focus on him for more than a second. “I’m so sorry.” Battling to forget her own pain, she grabbed as many napkins as she could from the counter and started mopping at his shirt, struggling to undo the last few seconds. “I’m so, so sorry. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”
A look of annoyed exasperation crossed his face as he took the napkins from her and started wiping his own shirt. “I think you said that already.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said in apology for apologizing too much, and when he looked at her, she knew she had better add something vaguely intelligent. “I didn’t see you there.”
Her feet carried her backward although her gaze never moved from his face or his frame. If she had seen him before she hit him, she would probably have dropped the hot chocolate on his feet in wide-eyed astonishment instead of hitting him in the chest with it.
Golden hair that dropped from the top of his head down just past his ears in the front and over his collar in the back, kind green eyes, even his frown was gorgeous. Couched on top of a smoke blue shirt unbuttoned to reveal a white T-shirt that now sported a giant light-brown stain, he was the most incredible thing she’d ever seen.
Through its files, her brain scrambled, searching for something to say. ‘Sorry’ came to mind, but that was the only real word she’d said so far. Just as the fight to get her mind to think of something better reached the boil-over point, another guy walked up. Spiked and blonde-tipped hair, a black muscle shirt, and a tan so deep he could very well have just stepped off a beach, he was the epitome of the beautiful people.
“What happened to you?” spike-haired guy asked, surveying his friend with a smirk.
“Chocolate smelling third degree burn,” smoke-shirted guy said, still wiping at the stain.
Muscle shirt guy shook his head. “You’ve really got to be more careful.”
Golden haired guy looked over at Rebecca in annoyance, which caused her heart to thump against her chest. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said as she held her own burned hand next to her chest protectively.
He wiped his shirt once more and then gave up. “Don’t worry about it.” Stepping over to the trashcan, he threw the napkins in and reached down to retrieve the cup from the floor. “You want this?”
Rebecca’s head moved side-to-side with no help from her.
“I didn’t think so.” He chunked it into the trashcan and looked down at his shirt in resignation. Then he looked over at her, melting her with his gentle green eyes, which had softened considerably in the previous seconds. “You okay?”
“F-fine.” Her voice drifted out as she fell into his gaze.
“Good.” He smiled, then looked at his friend. “Well, I think I’ve had enough to drink for one day. You ready?”
Her feet never moved as she watched them depart, and it wasn’t until he’d disappeared through the double glass paned doors across the room that the pain seared through her again. Tears blinded out even the vacant door as she looked down at her hand. Red, blistered, and throbbing with the heat, it threatened to take her knees right out from underneath her.
She wondered if the skin under his shirt hurt as badly as her hand did, but then the pain pushed even that thought out of her head. “Man, Rebecca, if you could get anymore clumsy, I would really hate to see how.”
By the time Eric Barnett made it to the computer lab for work, he had resorted to buttoning up his top shirt. Everybody noticed the stain, and everybody asked. It was annoying, especially when it wasn’t even him that had caused the accident. Okay, so most of the time it was him, but this time it wasn’t. And he was getting more than a little aggravated by the implications of the questions.
He stomped through the door, wishing his whole miserable life would just go away and leave him alone.
“Eric, it’s nice to have you back,” Mr. Templeton said as Eric strode into the large room humming with the electronic world he had gotten so used to hearing in the last two and a half years.
It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t washing dishes either. Best of all, it paid a few bills and managed to give him something to do besides studying, which was always a good thing.
He took the screen cleaner and a rag from the back of the office. “Looks like things are pretty slow today.”
Mr. Templeton’s dark hair bobbed up and down over the dusky gray shirt and tie. “First of the semester, wait a week or two. It’ll pick up.”
“I think I’ll just enjoy today.”
“I think that’s wise.”
With two strides, Eric walked back into the computer room and sat down at the first computer. Time to check the computers got scarcer and scarcer as the semester wore on, so it was nice to have some time to just get one-on-one with each of them and run them through their paces.
This semester he was even more thankful for the time he spent with the computers. His new apartment wasn’t exactly home. He hated living by himself, but with his younger brother’s recent marriage, not to mention the new living arrangement in his former apartment, he was on his own—like it or not.
Until Jeremy and Gwen had gotten together, everything had seemed perfectly wonderful with their little group. In fact, he had felt like one of the central participants, but the pairing of his two best friends had effectively eliminated his feelings of fitting in. They all had somebody.
Ryan had Desiree, and their newlywed status made them the odds-on solid couple of the group. Ransom and Zoë, although on again-off again were now on again, and, by the looks of things, weren’t headed for off-again any time soon. And then there was Jeremy and Gwen.
The thought of Gwen brought his heart up with a jerk. Fighting to get his mind to think of something other than her long legs, slim body, and fabulous red hair, his hands worked faster over the keyboard. After another minute, he snapped that one off and moved over to the next one. But getting her out of his mind for more than seconds at a time was completely useless.
How he had ever thought he had a shot with her was beyond him. As completely unbelievable as it was, however, he had thought exactly that. Right up until he walked in on her and Jeremy kissing. It was an image he knew that would be with him forever. His heart sank just thinking about it.
He wanted to scream at both of them, to tell them he hated them, and there were times he really did hate them. However, getting mad would do nothing other than destroy all he had left—their friendship. Only problem was that being around them, being around all of them was slowing killing him. Never would he tell any of them that, but it was the truth just the same.
With a snap he turned that computer off and scooted to the next one. Just don’t think, he told himself. Just keep moving, don’t think, and then it won’t hurt. But the truth was he could never move fast enough to outrun the ache, and he was beginning to think it would be a part of him forever.
Even cold, clear water hadn’t helped the throbbing in Rebecca’s hand. Two small blisters had formed in the center of it, and she was glad for the moment she at least didn’t have any major papers due anytime soon. Writing tomorrow in class was not something she was looking forward to; typing would probably be the end of her.
As she sat on her bed with a book open on her lap that she wasn’t really reading, the lock on the door clicked. She looked over to watch her newest roommate, Holly Jacobs, slide into the room. Bundled in a hat, coat, gloves, and a scarf, no one could’ve guessed how stunning she was, but the second she started unwrapping herself, Rebecca was again reminded.
“Man, it is like ten below out there!” One layer came off and landed on the bed. “They should’ve mentioned that in the little brochures they sent about how wonderful Boston Central is.” Another layer came off. “Sure the fall pictures are gorgeous, but winter? I feel like I just stepped into a freezer somebody’s turned all the way down.”
The final layer fell away, and Holly ran her hazy pink-polished fingernails down her corn silk locks. She went to the mirror and brushed her hair several times for good measure although fixed to its finest Rebecca’s hair had never come close to how Holly’s looked when it came out of that hat.
“How was your day?” Holly asked, glancing at Rebecca in the mirror. It was then she saw the red, blistered hand that Rebecca still had pressed to her chest. Instantly Holly spun around and slammed the brush to the sink, hair forgotten. “What did you do?” At Rebecca’s bed, she sat carefully as though moving her roommate’s body might cause her further pain. Gently she took the hand in hers to examine it.
“I had a little mishap at the Student Union. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Did you put anything on it?”
“Water, but that hurt so bad, I decided against trying anything else.”
Holly’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the burn. “Just a second.”
Rebecca’s gaze followed her roommate across the room and into her closet. The burn really did hurt. In fact, the second Holly left it had relocated back to her chest, but she had convinced herself there was nothing more to be done for it. Holly emerged and strode to the bed carrying a small brown case.
“Emergency kit. My mom’s a nurse. She never lets me out of the house without it.” Gently Holly took Rebecca’s hand and laid it on the bed. “Tell me how you did this again.”
“Oh, it was stupid. I had some hot…I mean coffee, and I kind of bumped into this guy.” Just retelling it made her heart skip. “It spilled on my hand.”
“Does it still burn?”
“No, burn. Is it still hot?”
“Yeah.” Rebecca had been trying not to think about that, but the second Holly mentioned it, her eyes stung as badly as the burn did. She watched as Holly pulled out a small bottle of vanilla extract. “Hey, we’re not making brownies here.”
Holly shook her head as she dabbed the extract on the burn. “It kills the fire, so you’re not in so much pain while it heals.”
Remarkably she was right. It took only seconds for the intense burning sensation to dissipate. It was strange how a whole body could be tense from pain. It wasn’t until the burning cooled that Rebecca realized her head was pounding.
Like a practiced nurse, Holly took out a small bottle of Vitamin E and smoothed some on the hand as Rebecca leaned back against the wall in exhausted relief. In no time, Holly had the burn wrapped in gauze and back in Rebecca’s protective spot.
With a nod, Holly stood and started back for the closet.
“Hey, you got any aspirin in that bag?”
The bottle rattled as Holly handed it to her roommate. “Here, I’ll get you some water.”
Seeing that even very small insignificant movements were going to be an effort, Rebecca finally managed to get the lid off with a hand and a half. By the time she had it off, Holly was there with her water.
“Thanks.” Rebecca handed the bottle back. She downed two pills and some water and then leaned back on the cool wall. It felt so good.
“Have you eaten yet?” Holly asked as she put her winter outerwear away.
Slowly Rebecca shook her head, disturbing it as little as possible.
“Well, I’m not really hungry yet,” Holly said, “and we’ve still got an hour to be down there. Why don’t you take a nap, and I’ll wake you so we can go together?”
A nap sounded very, very good at the moment. Without protest, Rebecca slid down onto the pillows and drifted away on the smell of hot chocolate and the look of his gorgeous green eyes.
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