Lost in Las Vegas (20 page)

“And did you?”

Taylor nodded. “Oh, yeah . . . I did. I was all of fifteen, and it was my first date ever. I didn’t really like Brent, but I wanted to make Ilsa happy.”

“And?”

“And he raped me.”

Tears started pouring down DJ’s cheeks again. And this time she threw her arms around Taylor and just sobbed. In fact, they both sobbed. “I’m so sorry,” said DJ. “That’s so horrible.” Eventually they both stopped crying, wiped their noses, and just sat there. “Did you go to the police? Did you press charges?”

Taylor kind of laughed, but with no humor. “I was fifteen. My mom was on tour. My dad was checked out. My best friend had set me up. All I wanted to do was to hide . . . or die.”

“Oh, Taylor.”

“I found out later that Brent had tried the very same thing on Ilsa the previous summer. Somehow she got away. But she never told me — never gave me a word of warning. Just acted like Brent was Mr. Cool, and I was so lucky.”

“What a witch!”

“But it gets worse.”

“How?” demanded DJ. “How can it possibly get worse?”

“Brent went around telling everyone that we’d had sex, acting like I’d wanted it — like I’d asked for it. Suddenly I had a reputation — one that I didn’t want. And, guess what?”

“What?”

“Ilsa no longer wanted to be my friend. She treated me like dirt.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah . . . wow.” Taylor blew her nose again. “I need a drink.”

DJ took in a deep breath. “I get that you
think
you need a drink, but I don’t think that’s going to help you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not a real answer.”

“Feels like an answer to me.”

“No.” DJ shook her head. “It’s just a numbing device.”

“Numbing is good.”

“No, it’s not good.”

Taylor frowned.

“Think about how you felt this morning, Taylor, when you were hugging the toilet. Do you like feeling that way?”

“No.”

“We need a better way to deal with stuff.”

“You mean God?”

“Yeah, I do.” Suddenly DJ remembered the guy reading his Bible at the pool. Terrence! “Hey, how about if I phone a friend.”

“Phone a friend? Is this like that hokey game show?”

“No, it’s a guy I met at the pool this morning.”

Taylor’s eyes lit up. “A guy? Is he hot?”

DJ nodded as she reached for her cell. “Totally.”

“Sure, go for it.”

As DJ dialed, Taylor headed for the bedroom, probably to fix her face. “Hey, this is DJ,” she began, “remember at the pool?”

“You bet. What’s up?”

“Well, I know it’s Christmas, but I was just having an amazing heart-to-heart with my friend. And suddenly we were talking about God and, the truth is, I feel kind of brain-drained and in over my head.”

“Want to meet for coffee?”

“Sure.”

So it was agreed that the three would meet at Starbucks in twenty minutes. And when DJ told Taylor, she seemed okay with it.

“There he is,” said DJ as they approached Starbucks. Terrence was standing by the entrance.

“Wow, he is hot,” said Taylor.

“Let me warn you though,” said DJ. “He’s a Christian.”

“Maybe I can convert him.”

“To what?” DJ glanced at Taylor with alarm.

“Just kidding,” said Taylor.

Introductions were made, and they soon had their coffees and were seated at a quiet table.

“Tell me about yourself, Terrence,” said Taylor.

He flashed what looked like a million-dollar smile. “Well, I’m in my second year at a Bible college in LA.”

“Bible college?” Taylor frowned. “Wow, you really are serious. Are you going to be a preacher or something?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m open. I’m even considering some kind of missions work. Maybe in Africa.”

“Seriously?” Taylor’s eyes grew wide. “A missionary.”

“Call it what you like,” said Terrence. “I just see it as people helping people. I’ve been over there with my church a couple of times already, and if anyone needs help nowadays, it’s our brothers and sisters in some of the war-torn countries in Africa.”

“That’s cool.” Taylor nodded and took a sip of her caramel mocha. “Helping people is cool.”

“Very cool,” added DJ. “So, Terrence, were you raised in a Christian home? Is that why your faith is so strong?”

He laughed. “Not even close.” Then he told them about his family, his parents’ broken marriage, his rebellious teen years, and how God finally got hold of him when he was seventeen. “It’s like I couldn’t keep running and hiding.”

“You don’t look like the type of guy who would run and hide,” observed Taylor.

“Maybe not so that you would notice. But I hid behind things like sports and popularity and hot chicks and cool cars and stuff like that. It was like this big mask I was wearing — a way to keep people at a safe distance.”

DJ turned to Taylor. “Hmmm . . . that sounds familiar.” Just then, DJ’s cell rang. She checked to see who it was and said, “I better take this.” So she moved away from the table and answered. “Hey, Case, what’s up?”

“Besides living in a battle zone?”

“Your parents still fighting?”

“Well, they’re pretending not to. You know, for the younger sibs. But the looks they give each other . . . the little jabs. Not pretty.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So how’s it going with Taylor?”

DJ wasn’t sure how much to say. More than anything she wanted to respect Taylor’s confidence right now. She didn’t want to do anything that made her feel betrayed. “She’s okay.”

“Meaning she’s right next to you and you don’t want to sound catty?”

“No, actually she’s talking to this cute guy.”

“Probably getting ready to go clubbing?”

“No. He’s a nice Christian guy.”

“Whoa, that sounds all wrong.”

“Or all right.”

“Okay. I was just curious. Now I’m even more curious.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll hear all about it eventually.” DJ watched as Taylor and Terrence continued to talk, and she could tell by Taylor’s expression that she was really listening — and maybe she was actually getting it.

“I better go,” said Casey. “Don’t have too much fun without me, okay?”

“Fun is not how I would describe my day.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Merry Christmas!”

“You too.”

But as soon as Casey hung up, DJ called Rhiannon. She knew it was probably getting late back east, but she also knew Rhiannon needed to hear this. Plus it gave DJ a good excuse to let Taylor and Terrence speak freely. “Rhiannon,” she said quickly, “you’re not going to believe this!” Then she poured out part of the story — not so much about Taylor’s past, but more about how she was talking to Terrence now.

“See,” said Rhiannon happily. “God is at work!”

“Keep praying!”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

“How’s your mom?”

“A little down. But okay.”

“Well, I’ll keep praying for her.”

“Thanks, DJ. And I’ll be praying really hard for Taylor tonight. It sounds like God is up to something.”

“I’ll keep you posted.”

As DJ hung up, she hoped Rhiannon was right. It did seem like God was doing some kind of miracle in Taylor. Yet, at the same time, it seemed so totally impossible. Then again, wasn’t he supposed to be the God of the impossible?

19

“YOU’RE GOING WHERE?”
demanded DJ after she rejoined Terrence and Taylor at Starbucks. Taylor had just made a declaration that nearly knocked DJ off her chair.

“LA,” said Taylor coolly. “As in Los Angeles. You know that rather large city in California? My family has a house down there. I think you used to live not too far — ”

“Yeah, yeah.” DJ held up her hands to stop her, then turned and frowned at Terrence. “What is going on here? Can you please shed some light on this or translate for me?”

He made an uncomfortable expression, then sort of smiled. “I was just telling Taylor about this place that a friend of mine runs . . . a place where people with problems can go to get well.”

Suddenly, and for no explainable reason, DJ was imagining a cult. She’d grown up in the Bay Area and was well aware of some of the craziness that went on in certain areas of their state, including Southern California. Also, she questioned what she really knew about this Terrence fellow, except that he was good-looking and had been reading his Bible in public. What if he was out recruiting beautiful young women for some crazy cult where everyone was forced to wear purple?

“Don’t look so worried,” said Taylor.

“But I don’t get it.” DJ peered at Taylor. “What brought this on so suddenly?”

“Terrence and I were talking . . . and I’m trying to get real about my life. I’d think that would make you happy, DJ.”

“But where are you going exactly? And when? And why? And — ”

“Too many questions,” said Taylor.

“I want some answers.”

“Okay. I’d like to go ASAP.”

“ASAP? As in when ASAP?”

“Tomorrow?” Taylor glanced at Terrence with brows raised hopefully.

He shrugged. “I’ll see what we can do.”

“Tomorrow?” shrieked DJ. “Are you nuts?”

“Well, according to you, I am,” said Taylor. “I mean you’ve mentioned it a time or two as I recall.”

“But I so do not get this.” DJ looked from Taylor to Terrence then back to Taylor again. “Seriously, Taylor. What has brought this on?”

Taylor looked evenly back at DJ, but now DJ noticed that Taylor’s hands were shaking a little. Was she nervous? Was she under some kind of spell? What?

“I admitted to Terrence that I have a serious drinking problem.”

DJ nodded slowly. “A serious drinking problem . . .”

“Meaning I may be addicted.”

“I thought you just drank occasionally,” said DJ. “Kind of a binge drinker.”

Taylor looked uncomfortably at Terrence, and he seemed to understand, so he kind of took over. “Look, DJ,” he began gently. “I told Taylor about how I was pretty much an alcoholic before I gave my life to God.”

“I thought you were a teenager,” said DJ.

“Teens can be alcoholics,” he said calmly.

DJ nodded. “Well, yeah, I guess I know that.”

“What you don’t know is how much I’ve been drinking,” said Taylor. “Or how often.”

“How much? How often?”

“A lot. And daily. Morning, noon, night.”

DJ blinked. “How is that possible? I’m your roommate. Wouldn’t I know if you were drinking that much?”

“Most of the time I am quite adept at hiding it.”

“Except when you go on a binge — like a party?”

“Exactly.”

“Oh.” DJ was trying to wrap her head around this.

“Terrence told me about a rehab place, and it hit me . . . I
need
to go there.”

“Just like that?”

“What?” demanded Taylor. “Do you think I should wait?”

“No, no. Of course, not. I think the sooner the better.” DJ glanced at Terrence. “But, no offence, Terrence, what do we know about this place?”

“I gave Taylor the name of the website. It’s the place I went when I needed help. Their focus is on young adults . . . mostly teens. I think the cutoff is twenty-two.”

“But is it possible to get in immediately?” asked DJ.

“I’m not positive, but I spoke to Marlin — that’s my friend — shortly before Christmas, and he mentioned that things were going slow there now. That’s typical this time of year. Then around New Year’s it gets busy, and the waiting list starts filling up.”

“Oh.”

“So, I think . . . why not beat the rush?” said Taylor. “You know me — I always like to be ahead of the crowd — trendsetter, cutting edge.”

DJ rolled her eyes.

“I thought you’d be glad.” Taylor looked slightly hurt now, and DJ knew she’d better get herself together over this. What if this was legit? What if this was God’s way of intervening in Taylor’s life?

“I am glad,” DJ said slowly. “Just kind of shocked.”

“If you want, I can call Marlin,” offered Terrence. “Just to make sure that there’s still space available.”

“Sure,” said Taylor eagerly. So Terrence stepped away from the table and made his call.

“This is just so sudden.” DJ looked into Taylor’s eyes. “Are you certain you’re ready for this?”

“Remember what I looked like this morning?”

DJ nodded.

“And yet I was dying to get a drink just hours later.”

DJ nodded again.

“Does that strike you as a bit odd?”

DJ pressed her lips together, replaying the things that Taylor had told her up in the suite. As strange as this all was, it also made sense. “How long have you been drinking like this?”