Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [86]
Muttering a quick “Sorry,” Stephen attempted to make himself invisible as he hurried toward chapel. Hoped Michal hadn’t noticed. And berated himself for his blundering attempt.
Lost in her own thoughts, Michal hadn’t noticed Stephen, and was caught off guard by Allistair. “Oh, hi. Guess I was already … well, out of here.”
Allistair’s hand flew to his chest and he dramatically stopped in his tracks. “Not Miss Studious. She of the ‘I’ve got to study all evening. I don’t have time to go get pizza. I can’t take Saturday off to go to the lake.’ Surely not that Michal McHenry? I’m appalled.”
She laughed. “Okay, I confess: I was thinking about spring break—not classes or studying. Not the paper I have due tomorrow or the quiz in Epistles. Stuff I should be thinking about.” Michal glanced up at Allistair, smiling. “I’m going to Florida to visit my aunt. And honestly, I can’t wait to get there.”
He grinned back at her. “Gotta ask you something. Your name. Michal?”
It was the usual question, and she was used to it. But aggravation at her mother’s choice of names still coursed through her every time someone inquired. Again. “Have you seen how it’s spelled?”
“Don’t think so. Why?”
She spelled it for him. Raised her eyebrows and waited. “Well? Come on, Bible major. Certainly you recall the story of a certain biblical character named David?”
Allistair’s face lit up. “Oh. Saul’s daughter—who became David’s wife. That Michal. But why—?”
“Why name me that? Because when my mom was pregnant with me, she was convinced I was going to be a boy. And that God wanted her to name him Michael, after my dad. So she did. Sort of.”
He laughed. “Well, I think that’s pretty cool. Not everybody gets to have unusual names like we do. Allistair’s certainly not your common, everyday name either—and wouldn’t have been my first choice. So … on another topic. Where in Florida you going anyway?”
“Fort Myers.” Michal closed her eyes, the pleasure of daydreaming apparent on her face. “I intend to spend every possible moment at the beach. Doing nothing but sleeping and swimming. Maybe try out a boogie board, since everyone tells me they’re a blast. How about you?”
“Traveling with a ministry team and my quartet to North Carolina.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. I heard.”
“We’re doing concerts near Atlanta, Greenville. Columbia, too, I think? Rumor has it we’ll spend at least a day somewhere around Myrtle Beach.”
“That would be neat.” Michal felt embarrassed, realizing how self-serving her time at the beach appeared compared with Allistair’s Christian service work.
“You’re on one of the ministry teams, aren’t you?”
Michal glanced up to meet his eyes again, giving him an appreciative smile for pointing that out. “Yeah, I am. But freshmen don’t get to travel overnight.”
“Sure. I remember. I didn’t go on an overnight trip till I was a junior. Didn’t qualify until then because of my soccer games.”
“You’re an amazing goalie.” Michal blushed, realizing what a groupie she must’ve sounded like. “I mean … um, in Ethiopia, just about every kid plays soccer. We didn’t have many real soccer balls there, though. At least not where I lived. So we’d use just about anything as a substitute.”
“Really? Like what?”
“I guess the strangest was a really big taro.” She laughed as Allistair gave her a questioning look. “Oh, a taro’s like a potato. Thicker skin, kind of hairylike.” Michal laughed again. “We kicked that nasty thing around until it literally fell apart—in chunks, all over the road.”
“We? You mean you played with it too?”
“Yeah, me and my brothers. Boarding school was the only place where we had a real soccer ball.” She brightened at a sudden memory. “Once one of our supporting churches sent us a rubber ball—it was actually for playing volleyball, I suppose. But we didn’t have a net or anything for that. So instead we kicked it around, played soccer with it as long as it lasted.”
Reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind an ear, Michal shook her head, smiling at the picture in her mind. “Which wasn