Cami would always remember how her heart pounded, how she couldn’t take her eyes off the aluminum can. She had never seen her father drink in all her life. Not until then.
That day her dad’s eyes stayed on the beer, not on Cami and her sisters. “None of you will ever see her again.” He sounded like a zombie. “That’s how she wants it.” Their father slammed the can on the counter. “I say good riddance.”
Anger became Cami’s constant companion that day and it never left. Never gave Cami a day off or any time to herself. Because what sort of mother leaves her three girls? Even at her school, where families were broken to pieces, Cami didn’t know any other kids with moms like that. They had moms who were desperate because they were doing all the work and raising kids. Or moms who were too high to care. Some of her friends had mamas with different men at the house every week.
But at least they stayed.
Cami was the only one with a mom who just left. Who didn’t like her children enough to stay.
So yeah, Cami was angry. Of course she was.
She woke up angry and went to school angry. When Cami sat down to take a test in English literature, anger sat down beside her and whispered into her ear from the first to the last question. It doesn’t matter, anger would hiss. Don’t try. Whatever grade you get, it won’t make your mother come home. You’ll never be anything, anyway. Otherwise your mother wouldn’t have left.
And when Cami sat down in her next class, anger would bombard her with the same words all over again.
Cami wasn’t sure how the last two years had made her younger sisters feel. Ensley and Ellie were still in middle school, and they didn’t look much like her. For all Cami knew, her dad and the twins’ dad were different guys. Given her mom’s track record. It was something she thought about asking her dad, but she hadn’t, for one reason.
If Cami was angry, her father was furious.
He worked as a mechanic at the airport, and even though he acted like he didn’t care that his wife had moved on, that day after the court hearing, something changed. For one thing, after that first time Cami saw a beer in his hand, her dad was never without one. Before her mom left, Dad used to keep his blond hair short and his face smooth. And on the weekends he would constantly be thinking up adventures for the family.
Something in their budget, he would say. A peanut-butter-and-jelly picnic at the park. They’d pack a bag of sandwiches and oranges and spend half the day on the swings or kicking around a soccer ball and eating PB&Js. Other times they’d head to the lake and build sand castles.
But after their mother left, a part of her dad died. That must have been it, because he never again suggested an adventure for the weekends. Instead he stayed home, anchored to ESPN and drinking beer.
“Do your own homework,” he would tell the girls. “Make your own sandwiches.” “Take your own trips to the park.” It became pretty obvious to Cami and her sisters that they hadn’t only lost their mother the day she left.
They lost their father, too.
All this time later, Cami’s dad wasn’t the same person. He didn’t act the same or talk the same. He didn’t even look the same. His hair was long and straggly. Oily, maybe. Like some of the airplane grease must’ve gotten mixed into it. He cut it every once in a while, but never shorter than his jawline.
He looked like someone trying to hide himself. Because all that hair made it impossible to see his face unless he looked straight at her. And Cami’s father rarely looked straight at any of his girls. It was like he was living in his own world and just happened to share a house with Cami and her sisters.
Like he was a stranger.
And that wasn’t all. Her dad had gotten a tattoo. Which was fine for other dads. But her dad used to brag about being the only mechanic at the airport without a tattoo. “Don’t want to be like everyone else,” he would tell Cami and her sisters. Not that it mattered. Cami sort of liked tattoos. But her dad didn’t. That was the thing.
After her mom left, everything changed.
The weird thing was, Cami caught her mom drinking alcohol before she ever saw her dad have that first beer. A year prior to her mom moving out, Cami found her in the laundry room pouring herself a glass of wine.
“Mom!” Cami had stared at her. “What are you doing?”
Her mother had quickly opened the cupboard above the washing machine and set the bottle on the shelf. She held up the glass and tried to laugh. “This?” She looked like she was grabbing words from thin air. “Sometimes Mother needs a little help to get through the afternoon.” She laughed again and set the glass on top of the machine. “You’ll understand someday.”
Cami didn’t know what to say. But she did know one thing for sure. The wine her mother was drinking wasn’t “once in a while.” Because late that night Cami checked. The cupboard where her mother stashed the bottle held four others just like it.
Her mother never mentioned the wine again, but Cami felt weird about it. Why would her mom need to drink while she did the laundry? Cami knew the kids at her school drank because it gave them all the feels they didn’t get at home. When they were lonely, drinking made them feel included, and when they were ignored, drinking made them feel accepted. Bigger than life. Like they mattered.
But why did her mom have to drink? And why did she hide it?
Cami had tried drinking, but she didn’t like it much. And after that day in the laundry room, Cami never drank with her friends again. The image of her mom pouring herself a glass of wine, surrounded by dirty clothes, between folding towels, was too surreal. Cami had no idea what she was going to do with her life or how she’d even make it out of Hamilton High.
But she knew one thing for sure. When she was older she didn’t want to be sneaking glasses of wine next to the washing machine.
A year later, after her mother left, Cami understood the wine a little better. Her mother needed alcohol the way the kids at Hamilton needed it. So that the reality of life wouldn’t kill them. For her mom, it was her own fault. Her own actions that had been driving her crazy.
Sitting in the front row at church Sunday morning . . . cheating with someone the rest of the week. Which meant all that time they were pretending to be a family, Cami’s mother was living a lie.
No wonder she drank in the laundry room.
Before her mom left, there were times Cami would think about God. Her mom had even starting taking Cami and her two sisters to church. Sometimes Cami would give Him credit for putting her in this family. For giving her a mom and dad and sisters. Like, they had to come from someone. So maybe they were a gift from God. After all, her family seemed pretty happy back then. No, they didn’t have much money. Her mom had worked part-time at a temp agency. One day a secretary, one day a filing clerk.
“There’s too much to do around the house for me to get a full-time job,” she used to say.
So they went to the movies here and there and took their adventures to the park. No big deal. And yes, every so often Cami would think about God.
But now that her mother was gone, now that Cami knew the truth about how her mom spent her off days, Cami’s view on God had changed. A lot. The part she couldn’t get past was the fact that the man who had destroyed their family was a Christian. Or at least he claimed to be.
Cami settled into the back corner of Room 422 and pulled her long blond hair into a ponytail. The first Raise the Bar meeting was set to start in five minutes, and already the place was packed. She wanted to walk to the front of the room and scream at everyone.
Were they kidding? Did they honestly think God was real or that He cared about their terrible, empty lives? Did they believe He was all-knowing and all-seeing, but He couldn’t make a mother stay with her children? Anger was right there beside her, chuckling under his breath. He was whispering at Cami again. Glad you’re not stupid enough to believe there’s a God.
Of course she wasn’t that stupid.
Cami pulled a spiral-bound notebook from her backpack a
nd opened it to the first page. It was blank. She hadn’t taken notes in class today. She was too mad about this Raise the Bar club thing. After all the kids at Hamilton High had to deal with, now Principal Quinn was going to lie to them and tell them there was a God?
She wasn’t having it. She would take notes, and tomorrow she would call the police. They didn’t need to arrest Principal Quinn. Just make him drop the ridiculous idea of teaching students about God and the Bible. Cami shook her head and waited.
So stupid.
Sure, if some kids were blind enough to believe in God, let them start a program. But why the principal? Mr. Quinn was using his position to practically force students to come. Free food. The nerve of him. Cami wasn’t going to take it. The whole thing was illegal and she knew it.
Mr. Quinn needed to be shut down.
She took in the situation around her. Most of the kids were young. Just one other junior, and no seniors. That was because most of the upperclassmen were meeting a dealer across the street in the overflow parking lot. The guy was a regular at Hamilton. Pot. Cocaine. Opioids. Ecstasy. Whatever drug the kids wanted. The juniors and seniors would get high and then go hide in their bedrooms and pretend they were doing homework. All so they could fall asleep and repeat the whole routine tomorrow.
Cami didn’t like pot, and she was too afraid to try other drugs. Pot made her feel dizzy and out of breath. Like she was dying. The one time she tried it she thought the walls were closing in on her. So this year she’d already resigned herself to staying clean. Which meant being alone at Hamilton High. Just her and anger, hanging out. She had no other friends, no one to take her on a date, and no idea what she was going to do next year when high school was over.
Cami studied the students in the room. The only other junior was Jordy Quinn, the principal’s son. The kid everyone liked and no one wanted to hang out with. He was a goody-good. Cami stared at Jordy for a long moment. He was at one of the desks up front, smiling and talking to another football player beside him.
In fact, half the guys here were football players. Jordy had probably convinced them to come. Because while most kids at Hamilton pretty much didn’t believe in God, Jordy was the exception, and everyone knew it.
The Quinn family not only believed in God. They acted like it. When school let out for a break, Jordy Quinn and his two sisters and brother went with their dad to places like Haiti or Kenya. Last year Jordy sat next to Cami in biology and he showed her pictures on his phone. Him and his siblings teaching village kids about Jesus, feeding them from a gigantic pot of chili. Teaching them how to swim.
That sort of thing.
Strange about Jordy. If anyone else had a reason to be angry with God, he did. Jordy’s mother was one of the nicest people Cami had ever known. When they were in fifth grade, she used to come every Monday with fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and help the kids in Jordy’s class with their writing projects.
That was the year everyone made an actual book. Something the school helped them get bound and printed. A great accomplishment, their teacher had said. And Jordy’s mother was right there giving her time, walking around the room and complimenting kids she didn’t even know.
Jordy’s mother was half black, half white. His sisters and brother looked like their dad. But Jordy had his mom’s features and long eyelashes. Cami thought of Jordy’s mother every time she looked at him.
There was another time, a field day back in middle school. Jordy’s mother came dressed as a referee. Black-and-white striped shirt, long curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. And smiling. Cami didn’t have a single memory of Jordy’s mother not smiling.
But then the accident happened.
A few weeks after field day, Mrs. Quinn was coming home from the grocery store when a kid from Cathedral High crossed the double yellow line. Everyone said the guy tried to veer off the road altogether before hitting the Quinns’ car. He almost made it, too. But instead he drove his car straight into the front driver’s seat. Jordy’s mom was dead before the paramedics arrived at the scene.
Certainly Jordy had no reason to believe in God, no reason to be at the Raise the Bar meeting today. He should be as angry as Cami. More, maybe. Cami stared at him, at the way he was still smiling, still talking to the guy beside him. You should be so mad, Jordy. If there is a God, He let you down the same way He let me down. Cami thought about that. No, not the same way. Her mother made a decision to leave. She was a terrible mother.
Jordy’s mother was the best mom anyone could have.
And God took both of their mothers, all the same.
The kids at Hamilton High didn’t know how angry she was. They thought she was shy. Pretty much she was invisible to everyone around her. Everyone except Jordy Quinn.
Jordy was the best-looking guy at school. Sometimes Cami would catch herself watching him at lunch or when he was practicing football out on the Hamilton field. Not just because he was so cute. But because for the life of her, Cami couldn’t understand him. Couldn’t understand why he could still smile.
Just then Jordy looked over his shoulder straight at Cami. His eyes were kind, as if he could tell Cami was thinking about him. But then again, Jordy was nice to everyone. Cami gave him a quick nod and then stared at her hands.
Six minutes after the bell, Principal Quinn walked into the room. His suit coat was gone, and he had rolled up his sleeves. His forehead was shiny with sweat, as if he’d rushed across the school to get here. Cami watched him raise his brow and look around.
She did the same thing, and that’s when she realized how full the room had gotten. Every desk was taken, and kids were squished along the back and sides of the classroom. They were even gathered at the door and spilling into the hallway.
Cami wrinkled her face. What the heck were all these kids doing? Didn’t they know this whole Bible club thing was illegal? Were they all here for the free food? She took a pen from her backpack. Whatever their reason, she knew why she was here. After she turned Principal Quinn in to the authorities, Jordy would no doubt stop smiling at her.
But it didn’t matter.
Jordy Quinn would never like her, anyway. He liked the popular girls, the ones on the cheerleading squad. Cami was a skinny blonde, a reporter for the school paper with a messed-up home. Cami was surprised Jordy even knew she was alive.
Principal Quinn cleared his throat and looked at the students. At each of them, as if they were his own kids. “You’re here because you want to be here, is that right?”
Cami rolled her eyes. Did he really think that question would make him innocent? If she had her way this would be the first and last meeting. Period.
The kids nodded. A few leaned forward in their seats, like they couldn’t wait to hear what Principal Quinn was going to say next.
“Okay, then.” He folded his hands. “Bow your heads, and let’s pray.” He paused a moment. “God in heaven, You are real and You are here.”
He’s not real, anger whispered to Cami. He’s not real and He’s not here. She watched a few of her peers. They were following Principal Quinn’s directions. They were actually praying in school! She grabbed her phone from her backpack. She could film this, and it would go viral in an hour.
A principal praying with his students. The whole country would come against him.
“We confess that the life of our student body at Hamilton High has not been pleasing to You, and we ask You to come into our midst now. Your Holy Spirit is welcome here, God. We love You, and we ask for Your changing power in this place. Speak to us through Your Word. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Cami uttered the quietest gasp. She didn’t believe the words, couldn’t make sense of them. Some kind of holy talk. Still, something had happened inside her while Principal Quinn was praying. Something she hadn’t expected. A shiver ran along Cami’s spine and down her arms. Whatever was happening to her, it continued while Principal Quinn opened his Bible and read Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LO
RD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Followed by John 3:16: For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.
It happened while Principal Quinn assured the students that the words were true. And the strange sensation continued as the Chick-fil-A sandwiches were handed out. Then there was something that hadn’t happened to Cami in forever.
The angry voice beside her didn’t say a word. And another thing. Her notebook was empty. She hadn’t written down a single thing to report about Principal Quinn.
When the meeting was over, Cami felt different. More free somehow. Jordy came up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Glad you were here.” His eyes shone with kindness. “Better than being in the parking lot across the street.”
She nodded, feeling the heat in her cheeks. “I’m . . . I’m glad I came.”
Which was crazy. Because it wasn’t only something to say to the cutest boy in school. Her words were actually true. She was glad she came. Glad anger had stopped yelling at her for a full hour, and glad she’d heard two things today. Whether God was real and the words in the Bible were true or not, she wasn’t ready to turn in Principal Quinn just yet. She couldn’t resist the idea that God had good plans for her.
And God loved her. Because one thing was sure.
That was more than Cami could say for her parents.
4
Alicia showed up at Wendell’s office door just as the sun was setting. At first Wendell’s heart filled with possibility. They hadn’t gotten to talk after school and he could hardly wait to share the news about the success of the first Raise the Bar meeting. Maybe the program wouldn’t cause her additional panic attacks after all. But as soon as Wendell ushered her into his office his enthusiasm died.
Her eyes were red and her makeup was all but worn off.
She shut the door behind her and searched his face. “Hold me, Wendell. Please.”