Faith

Chapter Two

2 Peter 3:9 (NIV) -- The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient toward you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.

I started my walk home after I wiped any trace of crying away. I took a deep breath and cleared my mind. With my eyes shut, I felt the breeze blow through my hair. Some birds chirped slightly and the smoky scent of a barbecue drifted by my nose. "It's too early in the spring for grilling."

A male voice surprised me, and I noticed for the first time that a vehicle pulled up beside me. "My momma told me to never leave a girl alone because of all these crazy people in the world. I didn't want something to happen to you."

I turned around and saw the gray-eyed boy from earlier. In the first conversation, I hadn't caught onto the velvety southern accent, but it's definitely apparent now. This boy had a blank look on his face as he stared at me, and his eyes were unreadable.

"Well my momma always told me not to get into a car with a stranger," I said. I mimicked his accent while I crossed my arms across my chest, discomfort seeking in.

Suddenly, Gray Eyes chuckled. "Touché. You are quite an interestin' girl."

I glared at him. "And you are a stalker. Normal people don't follow people to cemeteries."

Gray Eyes reached his arm towards the window, leaning out of his seat. "I'm Sam." He had the faint trace of a smile and a twinkle appeared in his eyes.

"Sam I am," I muttered, then Sam burst into laughter again. Crossly, I said, "I didn't think you could hear me."

"Well, I did. But I didn't hear your name," he replied coyly and completely dismissed my attitude.

I glared at Sam for a moment before I smiled. "You're pretty funny Sam-I-am. Maybe I'll grace you with the knowledge of my name." He stared at me until I told him. "Kaitlyn." And I reached through the window to shake his still outstretched hand.

"So do you need a ride sweetheart?"

My mouth dropped and I quickly pulled my hand away. Did he really just call me sweetheart? Who really calls a stranger sweetheart? "No, sweetheart, I'm good. I have two legs," I reply sharply.

Sam held up his two hands in surrender. "My apologies. Oh, and speaking of apologies, I actually followed you to apologize."

I scoffed. "Or you could have kept on with your life. I honestly forgot about you, especially because I have more important things to do. And all you did was annoy me when... never mind." I stopped myself from talking. This boy has an aura that makes me feel like opening up, but he doesn't need to know my life.

"What were you saying, sweetheart?" Sam smirked slightly and that stupid cute smirk just rose my irritation up.

"Do you feel the need to follow southern stereotypes and call everyone a sweetheart or darling or something? Because it's quite annoying and I am not in the mood to deal with it." I retorted.

Sam's smirk faltered. "It's just a little joke."

"Whatever," I said. "Well, it's been a pleasure Sam-I-Am." With that, I turned on my heel and kept on walking.

I got home at almost five in the evening. I slammed the door shut, like always, and I heard my dad enter the kitchen. "Kaitlyn, what did I tell you about slamming the door?" he scolded.

I rolled my eyes. "You say not to slam the door, just like every other day."

Dad rubbed his eyes and looked at me warily. "Kaitlyn, can we please not fight just for today? I want to go to a new restaurant that opened up two towns over."

My gaze softened and I looked down. "Sorry Dad. I would love to go out. What time to I need to be ready by?"

"Thirty minutes," he answered with a smile. I nodded and ran to my room to get ready.

After I changed out of my school clothes, I pulled out a dark pink top and black jeans. I found some black flats too and slid them on. I reapplied my eyeliner and mascara, then went into my bathroom to do my hair. Quick straightening and bobby pins are miracle-workers.

I ran downstairs and popped my head into the living room to see if Dad was ready. He wasn't in there, so I checked outside. Dad sat in the car with his head down and hands clasped as he prayed. I shook my head and walked outside. Sometimes, I believe he prays simply to annoy me.

I climbed into the car, Dad started it, and we drove off. I put in my headphones and turned my music up loud so I couldn't hear the Christian songs Dad favors.

We reached the next town in record time. Dad had sped the whole way there. We eventually slowed and came to a stop in front of a modern, brick building. It looked almost like a church and I became suspicious. Dad stepped out of the car and opened my door.

"It looks like a church," I said sharply. Dad looked at it and shrugged, so I let him lead me inside. He opened the door and we walked down a long hall. One sharp turn to the left and we walked into a room. I gasped, shocked.

Dad had taken me to a small confessional room where a preacher waited. The tall, willowy man stood and fixed his jacket. "Welcome, Jared Hill. This must be Kaitlyn, I assume." My dad nodded. "So Kaitlyn do you know why you are here?"

I didn't even look at the preacher and instead looked straight at my dad. "I don't know why I'm here. I rather not be here."

"Kaitlyn, you are here because of your lack of faith in our Lord. Your dad thought coming to a new, modern church would help you get back your old faith." Now I turned to glare at the preacher.

"I don't need to be here like I don't need Him in my life anymore. He wasn't there when I needed Him and my mom died because of that! Obviously He wanted her to die since he didn't help her live! He lost me and I'm not going to go to Him again."

The preacher trembled slightly at my outburst and looked taken aback. "This is worse than you mentioned, Jared," he spoke directly to my dad, like I wasn't standing in front of him. He faced me and said, "But I will help you Kaitlyn. The Lord and I are here. To start, I must say that He does not wish death on anyone. I know our Lord did not want your mother dead."

Instead of an inappropriate verbal response, I chose the physical one and I walked out. My dad came after me. "Kaitlyn Faith Hill, go apologize to the preacher right now!"

I turned around and gave Dad my deadliest glare. "No. You lied and brought me here without my consent when you know I don't want God in my life anymore!" Before he responded, I ran out and saw a bus that was stopped. I dug in my purse for change and told the driver where I wanted to go.

I saw my dad chase after the bus and I tried to push the guilty feelings away. "I'm sorry, Mom, for making Dad even more upset. That was an impulsive move, but he has made me upset too."

I sat there in silence as houses and streets passed and the sun lowered until it was almost completely down. The bus pulled to a silent stop at the edge of my town and I smiled a thanks at the driver for driving me all this way. She shut the door behind me and I started my walk home.

Once I got home, instead of knocking, I just climbed the tree that led to my bedroom window. I was careful to avoid the loose branch I had broken back in the days when I would sneak out. I shook my head at the thought of all the wild parties I had attended. All of that stopped though when police were called to one and people got caught with weed. I was not one of them but I was held for an hour before they cleared me with no drug use.

I flipped on my lamp and changed into a t-shirt and spandex, then set my alarm. I turned off the lamp and went to sleep, not thinking of anything else but escaping today.