“D’you want me to stick that in the microwave for you? Gotta be colder than the cow that died for it by now,” Loretta said.

“Nah, thanks…Hey”—James motioned with his head to the corner booth—“the girl back there wearing the beret, who is she?”

Loretta glanced over. “That’s Amanda Spencer. She was Drew Abbott’s girlfriend, or whatever they call it these days.” She gave an empathetic shrug, and then adjusted the Santa hat on her head. “She hasn’t always been this way. She kinda flew off the rails. A lot of them do.” Dangling Santa Claus earrings swayed with the shake of her head. “You know, there’s nothing really here for them, no way out…” she broke off and let out a heavy sigh. “And then what Drew did…”

James twisted in the booth to take a better look at the girl he’d first seen on the bleachers. What made a young girl fly off the rails? What caused a young boy to kill himself? It seemed a contradiction that in a town where there was nothing for teens to do, they’d find reasons to fly off the rails. In his day, they’d painted the town’s water tower in the school colors, worn masks and driven an unmarked tractor through the gym. That had certainly caused a ruckus, but no one was hurt. Of course, tragedy caused reactions like suicide. The lure of excitement also caused such reactions, but in the middle of small town living, what other lure could there be? Teens rebelling against their parents’ rules, committing suicide, out of boredom? There had to be more to it than that.

Or was James just too old to catch a clue?

He turned back to Loretta and then glanced at his plate. She was right; the food was cold. “Yeah,” he said and handed her the plate. “Maybe you should. Thank you.”

As she went to warm his meal, he turned his attention once again to the table in the corner. This time, Amanda Spencer was looking at him. He wondered if the contempt reflected in her face was directed towards him or something else. In her own way, was she trying to reach out, using that arrogant façade to let him know she desperately needed to talk to someone and hoping she’d not have to take the first step? He’d counseled many a teen, but they were young Christians who didn’t have to deal with a boyfriend’s suicide, or worry about losing their popularity because of it. How many of her friends secretly thought she was the cause of Drew’s despair? How many thought maybe she was a mean girl, or pregnant, or did something else to make him take his own life?

He decided that when he talked to Ian, he’d try to subtly ask about Amanda. Maybe he could help. Or not. Without God, maybe he couldn’t help anyone anymore. His calling was gone. Perhaps his life was meant to go in a completely different direction. The ball is back in Your court, God.