Page 52 of Anything (Mayberry University #1)

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

I sit cross-legged on the chair like a kid, gripping my hands as I gather the courage to obey.

I’ve already lost nearly all of my self-preservation.

I already put my lips on his ear, rode in his front seat, touched his hand, very nearly kissed him.

My rules of protection have been evaporating one by one.

But maintaining my secret—my dignity—is my most important protection for myself.

Can I really let it go? I squeeze my eyes shut.

I can be brave because I trust you. My mind is dependent on you. I’ll do what you say.

Something whispers that maybe Levi will understand. Maybe his experiences will sway his response.

I cover my face but force my hands down. “It’s time I tell my secret too.”

Surprise and curiosity leap to his eyes.

“I haven’t talked to anyone but my mom … and one other person … about this .”

He nods once.

Okay, give me the courage. Give me the words.

“When I learned that your family’s reputation would suffer if your dad’s experiences came to light, it was clear that I’d always be a liability.”

“A liability?”

I fill in the gaps for him about my change in appearance, Aiden’s sudden interest in me, and my relationship with him.

Levi watches me carefully, resting his forearms on his knees.

I try to speak in a quiet, businesslike voice, but his look of compassion makes my voice wobbly.

When I started I just wanted to spit it out, but the act of sharing is a salve for my wounds.

His expression shifts subtly, his eyes revealing more than his still posture—care morphs to grave concern, then flashes of anger as I tell about Aiden’s disinterest in my boundaries, and then about prom night.

My nerves somehow calm with every sentence.

I wrap up my story to explain that my brain is stuck on that night, that it haunts me still in nightmares and flashbacks.

All those words hovering in the air, my nails dig into my palms as I await the fallout. I’m nauseous with dread.

“That—” He stops, his eyes flaring with raw anger. The Tic Tac box creaks under the pressure of his fist. “I could just—” His jaw locks tight, the muscles flexing as if he’s barely holding back.

My hands tremble, and I press them against my stomach.

“I wish I could have protected you. I wish I could make him pay,” he spits. He drags a hand behind his neck and shuts his eyes. Deflating, he says, “Kit, you deserve so much better.”

My mouth falls open. He’s angry for me. A heavy, shaky sigh releases, and the lock on my heart mutinously melts off. The burden I’ve been carrying is now shared. He understands my brokenness—the brokenness I don’t even deserve to have—and he doesn’t hate me for it.

When I shiver, he absentmindedly slips off his favorite leather jacket and holds it out. I drape it backward over my shoulders and pull my knees under. Almost a Levi hug. It smells just like him .

Uncharacteristically, he slumps in his chair and stares at the wall behind me. He’s silent but his eyes speak for him, morphing to horror. My favorite light in those eyes fully extinguishes.

“Levi. Please talk to me?”

When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Do I … do I remind you of him?” He won’t look at me.

“Is that why you never ride in my front seat? And the time you did—” He manages to glance over and then away again.

“Is that why you hated me before you met me? I thought you were nervous around me because … Is that why you don’t want me to … to touch you?”

I don’t have words.

“All this time.” His voice wavers. “I’ve been making this worse for you?”

Uh, God? What do I say? I don’t know what to do here.

I shrug his jacket to my legs. “Levi, look at me. You’re nothing like him. You’re kind and gentle and patient. You listen—You listen when I say no. You’re not like him.”

With effort, he holds my gaze.

“When I first saw you …” I’m not sure how to say any of this.

I want to get it right, for his sake. “There were some broad similarities. Confidence, popularity with girls, that sort of thing. That’s why I avoided you, even though I was immediately—” I shouldn’t finish that sentence.

“Uh, even though I normally would have wanted to talk to you. I don’t know if it would be different with someone else.

I haven’t so much as shaken a guy’s hand since …

since that. I don’t ride in any guys’ front seats.

Except with family. There are other … triggers.

Rain, doors slamming, yelling, that kind of thing. ”

He nods slowly. He’s been paying attention.

“But I do have more flashbacks with you.” I study my hands. “If someone brushes by me in the hall, I’m fine, but if you touch me … sometimes it’s really bad. I’ve wondered if … strong attraction was part of all of this. That’s why I considered going out with Matt.” I squirm in my seat.

On one hand, the dam of secrecy has finally been smashed to bits, and a flood of relief splashes into every crevice inside me.

On the other hand, dragging Levi into this mess is unbearable.

I don’t want to leave him with my burden.

I won’t let him take an ounce of blame for my pain. It’s my brokenness, my dysfunction.

“I hate this part of me,” I say. “I hate that I’m broken.”

That light bulb is back above his head. “You didn’t tell me because you’re ashamed?”

Ashamed. That feeling has never been named in my head. I’m ashamed? “Um. Maybe. That sounds”—my voice catches and answers my question—“right somehow. About what happened and about getting stuck.”

“But none of that is your fault.”

“I mean”—I fight the tears threatening to make this awkward for everyone—“it is though. And I deserved much worse.”

“No.” His face is stern, his voice indignant. “It’s not your fault. You deserved—How can you say that?”

“I take responsibility for my actions. I knew I shouldn’t date him. My parents had a bad feeling about him. I knew deep down. I didn’t know that would happen, but I could have prevented it. I could have done so many things differently. And my dress. I?—”

“Kit, no. No. You cannot take responsibility for”—jaw clench—“for his choices. It’s not your fault. No one could ever deserve that. No.”

I swipe frantically at the spilling tears. “It’s not fair that God spared me. So many girls deserve better and suffer far worse. It’s not fair.”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand it either. But they don’t deserve that and neither did you.”

The jacket falls to the floor and we leave it there. I hang my head, cover my face, and sob. I can’t manage to do anything else.

I finally brave a glance up, wiping my face. His expression full of care makes me think maybe it’s okay. I bend down for his jacket and squeeze it like a teddy bear, clutching the soft leather.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Levi’s face scrunches up. “ That you have to remember it all the time. I’m so sorry I’ve been showing up everywhere, asking more of you …” He trails off.

I shake my head as my chest aches. I wish I could take it back. It was better to struggle with it myself than to be the cause for the pain on his face. I thought if he understood he would leave for good, not that he would leave for my good.

“You said it was impossible. I should have just listened.”

“No, I was being so confusing. I loved spending—” The chapel door creaks.

Levi dons his imperial look for a split second before thinking better of it. He sends me a rueful smile and turns. “Come on in, man. We can head out.”

“No worries. I’ll come back later.”

And the coast is clear again. Good thing we’re not trying to have this conversation at Common Grounds.

“I wanted to spend that time with you. But … your dad worked so hard to keep his difficulties under wraps, and look at me. I’m a mess.”

He shakes his head slowly. “You are far more important to me than my family’s attempt to control the narrative. I wish you knew that by now. Besides, knowing you, hearing your story, it would be such a benefit to my father. It would be helpful to so many if you chose to share it.”

I’m speechless again. How could Levi transform my darkest secret so thoroughly?

My eyelids flutter closed. I hate this. I don’t want him to be hurt. I want whatever is best for him. Help?

Be still before me and wait patiently for me.

Okay.

I open my eyes.

“Praying?” Levi asks.

“Yes. ‘Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.’” I have no other answers.

He jerks forward. Wordlessly, he pulls his journal out, opens to the bookmark, and turns it to me. The same verse is scrawled there in his dear cursive. God had said the same words to Levi.

I hear you. Thank you.

“You had that memorized?” he asks.

“Mom had us memorize Bible verses as part of bedtime. A lot of them stuck. Sometimes God brings one to mind.”

“What a gift,” he murmurs.

I give a half-smile, like Now what?

“Now we obey.”

“I’ll have a lot of space to be still and wait next week.” I’ll make use of it to the best of my ability. “You’re going home?”

“Yes. I need to be there. And it’s past time I attempt a Thanksgiving with my own family.”

He holds a hand on his head, fingers through his hair. I want to fix the weight in his posture, the dejection drawing his face.

I can’t fix it. Will you?

I cast my anxieties on you because you care for me.

I’m always here.

“Alright.” He winces. “We talk again after break.”

I respect so much that his choice is to obey God’s prompting even though it’s not what he would have picked.

“Levi …” It hurts to say his name. “Thank you for understanding. I’m so sorry for … dragging you around. And for being”—my voice breaks again—“such a mess.”

Forearms move to his knees again. “You are a delight , a treasure .” His eyes are wet? “Whatever God has planned, he’s got this. He’s got you.”

Yes.

“Can I pray?” he asks. “Right now?”

I nod eagerly.

“We love you, Jesus. Whatever you have for us, we’re in. Whatever you don’t … we follow you still. Give Kit what she needs. And me too. Amen.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. Rising to my feet, I fold his jacket and allow myself a last longing look before he meets my gaze. Reluctantly, I hand it back. As I close the chapel door behind me, he’s hunched over in his seat, watching me go.

But the tiniest match strikes, and peace glows in my heart, a peace beyond all understanding.