In His Eyes

By Kailey Walters

Sometimes love shows up in different ways.

The summer after high school is what Emmy hopes for: a camp counselor gig, days at the pool, and weekend brunches-which only gets better when she unexpectedly falls for Deston, a former childhood friend. But when the secret Emmy's been keeping from her best friends eve

• Language: English
• Publisher: New Degree Press
• Release date: Dec 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781636762234

Book preview

In_His_Eyes_COVER.jpg

Contents

AUTHOR'S NOTE

PART ONE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

PART TWO

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my parents, for never pushing me to be anything other than what I am.

And to my InterVarsity family: You are the inspiration behind this book.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

The first time I experienced a worship session, I didn’t know what to do with my body. It was a Thursday evening, and I stood in the middle of a dark third-floor room of the Student Activity Center at Stony Brook University, surrounded by nearly forty other people who were singing with their eyes closed. Some had their arms outstretched, palms facing the ceiling. Some were swaying in place, like thin-limbed trees blown about by the wind. At the front of the room, several worship leaders donned guitars, played the keyboard, and sang into microphones, with the lyrics to the song flashing on colorful PowerPoint slides from a projector onto the wall beside them.

I have never enjoyed standing in the center of a room. That night, with the invisible pressure of everyone else’s hand-raising and body-swaying pressing down on me like forty pairs of eyes, I felt sweat prickle all over my body. My gaze darted around the room helplessly as if only my eyes were capable of movement. Was I supposed to be lifting my hands, too, instead of twisting and knotting my fingers together? Should I close my eyes like everyone else and pretend that I had some deep spiritual connection? But if I closed my eyes, how would I read the lyrics on the screen? Was I supposed to sing?

I didn’t know the song, but I spoke the words to myself, my voice drowned out by the music and everyone else’s singing. The words tasted strange, foreign, on my tongue. Not many things were clear to me that night, but this much was: The people around me had their eyes closed and hands lifted to worship a God I didn’t yet know. And as I stood there, pretending to fit in, two questions echoed in my mind: How in the world did I get here? How can I feel what they feel?

*****

For many people, college brings to mind freedom—freedom from parents, freedom from old habits and ways of life, freedom to do whatever they want. It’s true; college is a time of exploration. While this breaking away is often very different for each person, the common underlying factor is a search for identity.

I learned many important things during my time in college, but I want to focus on three lessons.

One is that college can be very lonely if you allow it to be. When I started college, I worked incredibly hard at meeting new people. During my first few weeks, I walked around campus like the doe-eyed freshman I was, always on the lookout for my new best friend. I jumped at the chance to share meals with others, made incredibly awkward conversation with anyone who sat near me in class, in the dining hall, or in the library, and ventured to I-don’t-know-how-many different clubs to try to belong to a community. I will admit, I am very lucky to have started college with a suite full of wonderful girls whom I grew close with throughout my freshman year. I am also lucky that I met kind people in my classes and in other circumstances who were willing to engage with me, some of whom are still dear friends today. However, I am all too aware of another possibility that is, tragically, a reality for many other college students: spending much of college alone and friendless, and often not for lack of trying to be social. College can be an overwhelming and scary place, and it takes time—and lots of trust—to figure out where you truly belong.

Another thing I learned is that many college students root their identities in their accomplishments. Having graduated as salutatorian from my high school, I prepared to lug all my accolades with me to college—until I realized that, on a campus of 17,000 undergraduates, many people were coming from similar or even more high-achieving backgrounds. Spend a day on a campus like Stony Brook, or perhaps any college campus, and you’ll notice how much importance is placed on academic achievement. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with valuing success. But look more closely at the students who pull late hours working on assignments and studying for exams every night, the students who sleep in the library instead of returning to their dorms during finals week, and the students who experience crippling disappointment, anxiety, and loss of self when they don’t achieve a high enough exam score—and it becomes apparent that there is something harmful about the way we look at our accomplishments and what they mean to us.

These two discoveries led me, slowly but surely, to a much more glorious and life-giving truth. When I went to an InterVarsity Christian Fellowship meeting for the first time, I was amazed by the incredible warmth of the club members, who were complete strangers to me at the time. Their kindness, and the promise of community and friendship, kept me coming back every Thursday evening. Make no mistake, I did experience a lot of discomfort and dissonance, especially in the beginning. Although I grew up in Catholic school, I had never seen faith so real before. What I experienced at InterVarsity was so much more than stringing together rosary beads after school or mumbling prayers that I had memorized but didn’t understand. For the first time in my life, I found myself surrounded by a group of Christians who, for all their differences, believed in the same Savior. While it was awe-inspiring, I often felt as if I were on the outside looking in. I firmly believe now that God made me uncomfortable in those moments to draw me closer to Him, to open my eyes and ears to the new life He was offering me. As I’ve grown deeper in my faith over the years, I’ve learned that the wonderful community and friendships I experienced were leading me to the greatest relationship I could ever have: with God Himself.

The world is quick to dismiss the relationship between college and faith. College students, as I’ve mentioned, are concerned about achieving freedom by finding their place in the world and becoming successful—all on their own. My greatest revelation in college was that I could do neither on my own and certainly not because I was weak-willed or incompetent. Instead, I slowly learned that the only way to achieve true freedom is, ironically, through surrender and submission rather than independence and control. In college, my freedom began with surrendering my preconceived notions about Christianity. What followed was an invitation to let God gently and lovingly come into my life, an opportunity to let Him do what only He can do for me, and the beginning of a lifelong journey that has shown me the unfathomable power of being loved unconditionally. God tells me that I am precious and perfect in His eyes, which frees me to be who I am without doubting my worth. Today, I continue to surrender my life to Jesus by working toward trusting Him fully, by testifying of His goodness, and by praising Him in everything I do.

Whenever I listen to that first worship song from that InterVarsity meeting in my freshman year, I fill with joy and complete awe at how much I’ve grown since that night. I know now that God’s love has never failed, and it will never run out on me.

This is just one snippet of my story; if I were to tell you about all the ways God has been working in my life, I could probably write another book—and maybe someday I will. But the story that follows here is the story of my character, Emmy. Her fictional experience is hers alone, and through it, I hope to convey that she, just like any person in the real world, is loved and known by the truest source of life and love.

PART ONE

CHAPTER 1

Late morning sunlight slanted through the half-curtained window, dappling Emmy’s sleeping figure in the narrow twin bed. Scattered haphazardly around her were throw pillows—lumpy blue squares with tassels, a fuzzy orange cylinder—the bedsheets in a crumpled heap on the wood floor. On the nightstand, her phone vibrated insistently. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz.

Emmy fumbled for her phone, knocking over a small mirror. Five more minutes, she groaned into her pillow. The buzzing persisted for ten seconds, then stopped. Emmy drifted off again.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.

Emmy grabbed her phone. Her voice slurred with sleep. Hello?

Good morning, sunshine, a voice announced. Emmy held the phone away from her ear. Are you ready to get this show on the road?

Show? Emmy groggily pushed up onto one elbow and checked the time. 11:42. What show?

She could practically see Mara rolling her eyes. Good God, we graduate, and it’s like you’ve morphed into a completely different person. Chop chop, girl. We haven’t got all day.

But— Emmy gingerly sat up, rubbing her eyes with one fist, placing her feet on the floor —I thought we did have all day.

You’re missing the point, Mara said. Now get dressed. I’m picking you up in twenty. Beep.

Emmy stared in bemusement at her phone screen, sighed, and pushed up from the bed.

*****

Morning. Well, afternoon, Emmy said as she strolled into the kitchen, making a beeline for the cereal cabinet. In front of the large bay window, her mom sat at a weathered wooden kitchen table, its blue paint chipping and peeling. A laptop, a croissant, and a mug of coffee sat in front of her. Sunlight poured forth in great shafts onto the kitchen floor, dust motes swirling in the light.

You’re up late, Mom said, momentarily lifting her eyes from the laptop screen. Rough night?

Ha ha. Emmy withdrew a box of Special K from the cabinet and opened the fridge for the milk. If you call trying not to trip in heels while walking across the stage ‘rough,’ then yeah.

The school did advise against wearing heels, Mom pointed out.

It’s for the pictures afterward, Mom, Emmy said, as if it should be obvious. Beauty comes with a price.

Of course, Mom replied, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of coffee. What are you doing today?

I’m spending the day with Mara and some friends. Emmy drowned her cereal in milk and took a spoonful. First day of freedom and all.

Okay. Just don’t do anything stupid.

"Mom. Who do you think I am?"

Her mom grinned, taking another sip of coffee. Hey, you never know. I was once your age.

And I bet you were the worst, Emmy teased. What was it, two suspensions and an almost-expulsion?

Right, Mom said with a wry smile. Those are the kinds of things I would tell my daughter to set an example.

Emmy’s phone buzzed on the kitchen table. 5 mins away.

Whoops, Mara will be here soon, Emmy said, shoveling more cereal into her mouth. She drained the bowl, put it in the sink, and started to run out of the kitchen.

Emmy!

Emmy popped her head back in. Yes?

Her mom regarded her with an expression equal parts amused, concerned, and reproachful. I know you won’t do anything stupid. But it’s my job to warn you anyway.

Emmy chuckled. Thanks. I appreciate that. Can I go now?

Her mom looked at her for several moments. Then she nodded. Have fun.

*****

"Oooh, what a hottie," Mara teased as Emmy slid into the front seat of Mara’s white Corolla. Julian won’t be able to resist you in that.

Rolling her eyes, Emmy self-consciously tugged down the bottom of her black-and-white striped crop top. Mara reached over and slapped Emmy’s hand out of the way.

What are you doing that for? Crop tops are meant to show things off. Let your belly button breathe!

I don’t know about this outfit, Emmy confessed. She thought back to when she’d first tried on the shirt in the store, twisting her body this way and that in front of the full-length dressing room mirror, her skin lit a ghastly green from the lights overhead. She had liked the way it hugged her curves, drawing slightly more attention than usual to the soft humps of her breasts. But now, in the muggy heat of the un-air-conditioned car and her stomach poofing out in a pale white roll above the waistband of her jean shorts, she just felt like she was suffocating.

They pulled away from the curb and rolled down the street, Mara checking directions while steering one-handed. Her fingers flicked distractedly over her phone screen, eyes darting up and down and back to the road again.

Emmy pried the phone out of Mara’s hand and scooted over to the far edge of her seat. "I’m your navigator now. I swear, one of these days you’re going to get into an accident."

And I swear one of these days you’re going to JINX me! Mara exclaimed, braking sharply at a stop sign to let a bicyclist go past. The biker, clad in neon-green spandex, put up the middle finger as he zoomed by.

God, he’s hot, Mara mumbled.

Emmy fiddled with the air conditioner, hoping in vain for cool air to blast through the vents. When are you getting your AC fixed?

"Ugh, never. If you look at my bank account, you’ll see why."

You have a job, Emmy pointed out.

Yes, but— Mara sighed. Karma. My broken AC is all thanks to karma. From when I accidentally ran over that squirrel.

Emmy laughed. Do you really believe in that stuff? Jinxing and karma and all that?

Yes! I swear it’s real, Mara declared seriously. Remember when I fell in a puddle after letting Joey Kenson cheat off my math test in sixth grade? Or last year when I didn’t turn in the one-hundred-dollar bill I found on the street, and Chase broke up with me the same day?

Emmy laughed again. Those sound like completely unrelated coincidences to me.

It’s karma, I’m telling you! Mara insisted, stopping short again, this time to let a red-faced little kid on a tricycle scuttle past, his frazzled mother hurrying after him. Just wait until something like that happens to you. Then you’ll believe me.

Emmy rolled her eyes. She was always rolling her eyes around Mara. I’ve probably had tons of karmic incidences in my life. But that doesn’t mean karma is real.

Mara shook her head with all the supposed wisdom of someone who had been through a lot. One day, you’ll see what I mean.

They drove on in silence for a few moments, wind whistling through the car’s half-opened windows as they cruised down idyllic neighborhood streets. Suddenly, a squirrel scampered in front of them.

Ahhh! Mara squealed, swerving as the tiny squirrel scurried across the street and vanished into some bushes.

Karmaaa! Emmy bellowed, and the two of them burst into laughter.

*****

Katy Markham’s backyard was vibrating with energy when they arrived. People in bathing suits and summer attire, some holding drinks and balancing plates of food on their laps, clustered around the large, in-ground, kidney-shaped pool. Music blared from a huge set of speakers in a corner of the backyard next to the shed.

What’s up! Katy exclaimed, her blond curls bouncing as she roped the two of them into a hug once they walked through the gate. So glad you guys are here! Too bad Margaret and Camila couldn’t make it.

Emmy, Mara, Margaret, and Camila had all been best friends since elementary school. Today, Margaret was playing in a summer league soccer game while Camila was babysitting her neighbor’s four-year-old son.

Glad to be here! Mara said brightly. Can I use your bathroom?

While Katy gave Mara directions, Emmy wandered off into the party, deciding it was no different from