Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [99]
“My sneakers do not stink. I wash them all the time.” Michal gave Beth a look of deadpanned insult. “And thanks for your support, roommate.”
“Hey, you’re all on your own. It was your choice to go out with the most popular guy on campus.”
“That’s why this will be the last time I go out with Allistair Fuller.”
Samantha had disappeared into her room and was gathering makeup. Jessica was literally yanking the maligned sneakers right off Michal’s feet. And Jenny was holding up a blouse she’d already chosen from her own closet, singing its praises, sounding like a used car salesman.
Resigned, Michal accepted that doing what they wanted was ultimately easier than fighting. And by the time she’d “passed inspection”—she had to twirl in front of them as they nodded their heads in approval—the call came from the lounge. Another freshman, nearly breathless, voice full of wonder, proclaimed, “He’s here. I mean … you know. Allistair’s here.”
Michal nervously walked down to the lounge, and as she rounded the corner, she saw Allistair turn toward her, smiling broadly. He gave her a quick perusal, one swift assessment from head to toe. “You look great.” Politely holding open the door, he gestured with the other hand. “Shall we go?”
Michal was surprised how easily they slipped into conversation; they chatted about spring break, how excited they were to get away for a while, the churches where Allistair’s team would minister, what it was like on a traveling ministry team. Despite her resolve to remain detached, Michal was interested in what he’d be preaching on, and impressed by it too. And at Allistair’s urging, she talked at length about Aunt Sarah. How she also grew up in Ethiopia, but was the only sibling not to go back to Africa.
“Why was that?” Allistair asked.
“I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t know because I’ve never asked,” Michal confessed, realizing she hadn’t shown much interest in Sarah’s life. “I guess I’ve been pretty self-centered that way. Never realized it till just now.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it that way. I was just being nosy, that’s all.”
“Oh, I know you didn’t. But it’s good you asked. Whenever I’m with Aunt Sarah, she always steers our discussions to be about me—what I’m learning, how I’m doing. You know, this time I’m going to ask her questions too.”
“She sounds like someone who’s a great listener.”
Michal smiled. “Yeah, she really is.”
“I think everyone needs someone like her in their life.”
Michal agreed, tucking a straying curl behind her ear. Jessica had insisted Michal wear it down, the sides pulled back with a large barrette that perfectly matched the color of Jessica’s blouse. But as usual, her hair wouldn’t stay in place, and there were small tendrils at both sides of her face. Framing her expressive eyes (minus eye makeup—Michal had drawn a firm line on that), highlighting them.
Allistair was quiet a moment, pensive. He had a McMaster’s baseball cap on and reached up to straighten the brim before putting his hands in his pockets. “My first year here, we had a chapel speaker who really convicted me.” He stared straight ahead, his expression conveying a seriousness she hadn’t seen in him before. “I decided right then I needed to go to the mission field.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I was convinced that’s what I was supposed to do. Knew exactly where to go too.” He glanced over at her and grinned shyly.
“And that was …?”
“Africa, of course. Isn’t that where the most spiritual missionaries go?”
Instantly defensive, Michal stopped in her tracks. She glared at him, mouth open.
Allistair reached out with both hands, conceding. “Oh, no—I’m really sorry. What I was trying to say was that’s what I thought. In my totally immature way of thinking back then.”
“So what does that say about missionaries there now?”
He pointed to an empty bench. “Look, how about if we go sit down for a minute?” Putting a hand against Michal’s back, he gently guided her toward the bench. To her consternation, Michal was intensely conscious of his hand. And how it felt. “I think I need to completely start over,