Page 19

Eighteen

New Friend

Three months later…

I t was a fine evening in Harmony Hills. The town square was packed. Tristan usually avoided the crowd, but today, he was desperate for a lively atmosphere.

Being cooped up inside his house had never felt so suffocating before. While he had spent more time isolated from the world before, he had nearly lost his mind in the last two weeks that he waited for the storm to pass.

Somehow, the isolation hit differently this time. That, on top of his pain at every lightning strike.

So as soon as he learned the storm had moved onto the city side, Tristan decided to go into town. He didn’t take his car in case the weather suddenly changed and he needed to teleport back.

Tristan ignored every eye he unintentionally attracted toward him as he passed. Murmurs surrounded him, the same as always. One of them recognized him as Dr. Knight’s son. And one told her friend that she was going to try and get his attention.

Tristan spotted the sign for a café to his right, and without a second thought, entered the building. Perfect , he thought sarcastically. The café was packed and there was a waiting line to place orders. If he stood there, the girl would come in and find him.

He looked around the room, his eyes landing on a table for two by the window, occupied by just one man. He hesitated, unsure if the other seat was taken, but with everywhere else occupied, he figured he had nothing to lose by asking.

He approached the man, who was sipping from his cup and staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. Stepping up in front of him, Tristan cleared his throat. “Excuse me? Is this seat for someone else? Everywhere else is full.”

The blond-haired man, who seemed just slightly older than Tristan, looked up. His green eyes widened a little, and he blinked. His gaze lingered on Tristan, and for an instant, Tristan thought he might have intruded.

“Or… I’ll just—”

“Oh, no, no, no,” the man said quickly, clearing his expression and gesturing to the empty chair. “Please, sit down.”

“Thank you.” Tristan pulled out the chair and sat down.

The man continued to eye him curiously. “Are you alright, man?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Tristan blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Oh, yes, yes. Thank you.” He tried to sound more composed than he felt. He was not flustered, trying to escape a girl who wanted to talk to him. Right?

The man nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. He extended a hand across the table. “I’m John.”

Tristan grasped his hand. “Tristan. Nice to meet you.”

John smiled warmly. He released Tristan’s hand and went back to his coffee. “Waiting for your order?”

“Uh… yes,” Tristan lied.

“I was about to play a game of darts while I waited for someone. The board’s free, and I don’t mind a little competition. Care to join me while you wait?”

A stranger who wanted him to join in darts? Interesting, but Tristan hesitated. He wasn’t much of a darts player—actually, he’d never played at all—but it was a friendly offer and he hadn’t ordered his food yet. Better to look engaged than a fool.

“Sure,” Tristan agreed, standing up as John finished his coffee. “Have you been saving this seat for someone?”

“No, actually. My girlfriend’s sister works here.” He led the way toward the dartboard in the dimly lit corner of the café. “Her shift starts in half an hour and I thought I’d check in on her before I left.” He glanced at Tristan, a faint smile on his lips.

“Sounds like a brother on duty,” Tristan remarked.

John chuckled. “She’s been like a little sister to me since I was a kid.”

“I get that. I have younger sisters, too.”

“Oh?” John raised an eyebrow, appearing intrigued.

“Cousins, actually,” Tristan clarified, and he didn’t like that he did. He had always seen them as his blood sisters and avoided referring to them as cousins to anyone. Why did he do that now?

John gave him a genuine smile. “Sounds like a responsible big brother.”

Tristan couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile. “That I am.”

Upon reaching the board, John handed Tristan a dart, and they both took their positions. John took the first throw. When it was Tristan’s turn, he lined up his shot and threw the dart. It landed on the board, not too far from the center. He raised his eyebrows, impressed at himself.

“Not bad,” John commented with a grin. “You might be a natural.”

Tristan shrugged. “Beginner’s luck, I think.”

John strung them into a conversation, discussing the weather and sports, often making comments about their game. Tristan was surprised that he was enjoying himself even though John did most of the talking.

He had always been reserved, keeping people at arm’s length, but something about John made him relax. Like a tension he didn’t know was there leaving his shoulders.

The realization that he had never hung out with anyone outside his family hit him with great force that when he looked up at John’s laughing face, teasing him about something he did, he appreciated an outsider’s company for the first time.

A friend.

Tristan had never had one.

John hit a bull’s eye and let out a whoop of victory. Tristan shook his head, genuinely amused. “Alright, you’ve got me this time.”

“You did great.” John grabbed two drinks from the nearby table and handed one to Tristan. When did he order them? “Here’s to a good game. And to meeting new friends.”

Tristan touched his cup to John’s. “To new friends.”

He sipped his cappuccino, but John took a moment to close his eyes, with a furrow on his forehead, before he took a sip. The man smiled as he caught Tristan’s questioning gaze.

“Do you believe in Jesus?”

Tristan’s chest tightened with familiar indignation, but he pasted on a pleasant facial expression. “I’m afraid not. I mean no offense, but—”

“I know,” John said in an assuring tone. “I was simply curious.”

“You ask this question to every stranger you meet, then?” Tristan asked jestingly.

John chuckled. “Only the people I don’t find strange .”

“Guess I’m not one.”

“That you’re not,” John said. “Is there a particular reason for your unbelief or…?”

Tristan took a deep breath. “I lost my mom when I was a little boy. Whatever faith I had, died along with her.”

“I’m so sorry. Is it because you blame God for not preventing her from dying?”

“Something like that.” Tristan shrugged. He didn’t want to open up to a stranger even if John didn’t feel so strange to hang out with.

John sighed. “Sometimes, Tristan, we want one thing, but God does the opposite.” His voice was solemn. “We become mad, furious even, that He didn’t give us what we wanted because He could’ve given it to us. He is almighty; therefore, nothing is impossible for Him. But the thing is, God knows our future. He sees it and knows what would happen if we get what we want and what wouldn’t . So, He does what’s best, and trust me when I say you won’t see the good in your pain now. But one day, you will look back and see that all of it had a purpose.”

Tristan stared out the window nearest to him blankly. “So, you’re saying God allows bad things to happen in one’s life?”

“By bad, if you mean things that happen opposite to our expectations, something as drastic as losing a loved one, yes. And He doesn’t do it without keeping you in His mind, you know? He always has a way for everything, a solution—”

“A solution for a little boy who lost his mother and was forced to live the rest of his life without her? Oh, I wonder what that would be.”

John gave him a pained look. “Maybe that pain is what would lead you to find the greatest treasure of your life. And without the pain, you wouldn’t be in that certain place. It’s hard to explain, Tristan, but I hope you will realize it one day soon.”

Tristan glanced at him. “You sound so certain.”

“I’ve seen it in a friend’s life, and I believe I will see it again.” John placed a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Just… hold on a little longer, alright? I’ll be here if you need me. As a friend.”

He spoke like someone who truly understood him. Tristan felt his throat close up but cleared it. “Thank you.”

“Would you mind if I pray for you?”

“Now?” He cast a glance around. “Here?”

“No better time than the present.” John smiled. “If you’re okay with that.”

“I guess.” Tristan shrugged. He had let a pastor or two, who had visited his dad in their house in the past, pray for him. This wouldn’t be any different. Satisfying the person who wanted to pray for you wasn’t that hard.

John closed his eyes. “Heavenly Father, I thank You for my friend Tristan. I thank You for Your perfect timing that made us run into each other today.” His voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat before continuing, “Thank You, Jesus, for taking care of him all these years even when he felt like You haven’t.”

Tristan’s phone began to ring, but he silenced it.

“For loving him, for continuing to write his story, for all the pain and hardship he had to go through—so his story could have the best ending imagined. For never giving up on him. I know I don’t have to ask this because You do it already, but please keep him safe until we cross paths again. Jesus, help Tristan to see the purpose You have planned for him. Let it be soon— please …” John sighed. “In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

Tristan pressed his lips together in a thin line and nodded as John looked at him.

John smiled in response and dropped his hand. “I think you got a call?”

“Yeah.” Tristan took out his phone and saw a missed call and a text message from his cousin. He read it, smiled inwardly, and looked up at John. “It seems one of my sisters decided to pay me a surprise visit. I gotta go; the house is locked, and she’s waiting outside. It was nice meeting you, John.”

“You too, brother.”

“Is your girlfriend’s sister here yet?” Tristan asked, craning his neck to search behind the counter across the spacious room. He didn’t find a new face among them other than the ones who were already there when he arrived.

“N-no, but she should be here any minute.” John followed Tristan’s gaze before looking back at him. “Take care, brother. I hope we will meet again.”

Tristan nodded in acknowledgment, placed a tip under his cup on the table, and turned to leave. He walked toward the door, texting his sister back that he was on his way.

“Sorry, I’m late!”

Tristan paused in his tracks and turned toward the feminine voice he assumed was John’s girlfriend’s sister. All he saw was her back as she said something in her coworker’s ear. Both girls giggled.

Before he could see her turn, the door of the café opened in front of him, and a group of people filed in, forcing him to back away further. The café was more crowded than it was when he arrived. Not wanting to drag any unwanted attention toward him again, Tristan slipped through the doors before they closed in.

He had an evening to remember, though he wasn’t certain about keeping a friend who liked to preach faith.

At least, he made a friend.

Congratulations, Tristan, he told himself wryly. It’s about time.