Page 9 of Mended Hearts

I glance at her while grabbing her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. This isn’t her fault. I don’t want her to feel bad about something she can’t control. Thankfully, after we climb in, Jacob shows up. He’s more on the hefty side, so when he scoots in next to Echo, he pushes her tightly into my side. I inwardly smile, enjoying the closeness.

When we arrive at the church, I’m amazed at how packed the parking lot is with vans and buses from other churches. Do kids really hang out at church on a Friday night? This concept is foreign to me, but I’m curious to see why. I mean, I know my reasoning behind it, but it’s not Jesus. We walk in and the place seems electric. I can feel the excitement as I watch all the different kids mingle, laughing and smiling, full of absolute happiness. We make our way into the sanctuary and sit in the mid-section of the pews. It starts with a singer on stage, getting everyone hyped up as the music begins to play.

“We want everyone on their feet,” they yell. “Now jump.” And on command, everyone around me starts jumping.

“Come on.” Echo urges as she smiles, jumping up and down with the crowd. I finally let go of all my reserves and join in. I don’t know the song, but I can clap to the beat of the music. Three songs in and my legs are slightly sore, and my arms are over me clapping. I didn’t know I was going to get a second workout. They slow the music down, urging us to praise our Lord. I watch as those around me do. I’ve yet to really form a relationship with God, so I’m unsure how all of this works. So instead of standing and praising with raised hands, I sit down and bow my head. I decide this is a good time to talk to God; something I’ve never done before.

They close out the service with prayer, asking if anyone would like to make Jesus their Lord and Savior. Prompted by a tug in my heart and a feeling I can’t explain, I step out of the pew and make my way down the aisle. There are young adults waiting near the stage for anyone needing prayer. I walk toward the short, dark-skinned male closest to me, still unsure of what I’m doing or supposed to do. The man steps in closer, and leans in near my ear, asking me for my name.

“All right, Dustin. Are you ready to accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior and ask Him to come live in your heart?”

I’m unsure of what any of it means, but I tell him yes. His voice is deep but full of kindness. He keeps his hands on my arms as he begins praying, lifting me up. He then recites the sinner’s prayer, having me repeat after him. I open my eyes and smile at the gentlemen standing in front of me. His eyes are bright, and his smile is wide. He clasps my hand and then brings himself in, giving me a bro hug.

“Thanks, man,” I say as we pull apart, feeling lighter.

I make my way back to the pew where Echo is gushing at me. She pulls me in, giving me a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispers in my ear before pulling away. Surprise washes over me as she grabs my hand, holding it for whoever to see. And by whoever, I mean her youth pastor who takes notice of it. We make our way back to the van, and thankfully, the seating arrangement remains the same for the ride home. Except this time, since it’s dark, Echo and I hold hands the entire time.

Once we arrive back, Dave pulls us to the side. “Listen,” he says with one hand on his hip, the other hand rubbing over his short brown hair. “I’m in a peculiar situation.” He eyes us, mainly Echo, looking for understanding. “More like under strict orders.” He sighs.

“My dad,” Echo mumbles, looking down in defeat.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I don’t make the rules, and I also don’t want to get fired. So just make sure you watch the closeness when in my vicinity.”

“Do you have any advice?” I ask, not wanting to accept the obvious.

“Umm.” Dave blows out a breath. “Maybe a formal introduction with Pastor Price. Maybe if you were to introduceDustin to your father, it’d allow him to let some of his defenses down.” He offers.

“Yeah, right.” Echo laughs, looking my way. I slowly shrug and hold her gaze, pleading with her. “But at this point, I’m willing to try anything.”

“Also, what do you think about playing drums for the youth worship team?” Dave asks, directing his attention to me. I scrunch my brows, confused about why he’d even ask. He continues, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you drumming your fingers on everything.” He raises a brow, then adds, “And maybe it’ll help win the pops over.” His eyes dart to Echo, meeting her big eyes as if he’s just had the best idea ever.

“Yes, that would be perfect.” She turns to me, grabs my hands, and intently holds my gaze, her eyes pleading with me to give in. The gesture is unnecessary. I will never have the power to tell her no. Plus, if this helps get on her father’s good side, I’d be stupid not to do it.

“I’m in,” I say.

Echo jumps with excitement and gives me a hug. The things I’d do for this girl. I’m starting to believe I’d go to the end of the world for her.

Chapter Five

ECHO

October 2000

Introducing Dustin to my parents, mainly my father, isn’t something I ever wanted to do. The fact that my dad is the new pastor in town and small towns usually consist of gossipers, I know he’ll inevitably hear about it. And I can’t risk him hearing about it from someone besides me. If I keep it a secret, he’ll think I’m hiding something, making it look more suspicious, and give him a reason to question it—even more than he already will. I want to believe that being open and honest with him will help gain his trust. Although I have a nagging sensation it will do the opposite.

“You want to do what exactly?” My dad folds the newspaper and crosses his legs, giving me his undivided attention. I hate it. I want him to stay distracted while I bring up the boy topic. I’m not a fan of the one-on-one time with the man.

“I want to go to the dinner down the street with my friend Dustin. He also plays drums for the youth now,” I add for good measure.

“And what’s the point in you doing this?” he questions. I think he does so in hopes that I’ll just back down altogether instead of facing his judgmental ways.

“Uh, to grab a bite to eat and hang out.” I want to add a “duh,” but that won’t be beneficial whatsoever. I cringe once I realize I labeled Dustin a friend. Technically, he is just a friend, but he’s one that I like. A lot. But I can’t tell my dad that. Apparently, I have no balls when it comes to him.

“Just a friend, you say?” He raises his brows.

“Ahh.” I look past him to where my mom is standing. I don’t want to lie because I want my parents to trust me, but then my mom does the most unexpected thing ever and nods. She’s standing behind my dad, so I know exactly what she’s doing. She wants me to tell my dad yes to shut the man up. She knows him far better than me, and for some reason, she’s helping me out.

A knock on the door causes me to jump. I know it’s Dustin. Suddenly, I begin to sweat. I told the boy to wait for my cue, but just like always, he doesn’t listen. He’s stubborn and likes to do things his way—which, for the most part, usually works out perfectly.

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