"Crappy," I said, "Today has got to be one of the crappiest days of my life." As always, Derreck's day of sitting around the house hadn't produced one thing, not even food. Derreck didn't work, he didn't go to school or do anything but party. His dad rented us the apartment until Derreck could get on his feet. I'm sure his dad knew now that that had been a huge mistake.
With a sigh I began my everyday routine of pulling instant noodles out of the cabinet and cooking them for me and Derreck.
"Dude, you should have been there last night," he said sitting down, "It was wild." I knew he was referring to the party he went to. His dad gave him money for food and necessities and he spent it on booze. Up until today I worked nights at the editing shop and weekends at a movie rental place while he was free to party his life away on the gravy train his dad conducted. Of course I went to clubs and did the same things but I felt that my actions were justified by me going to school and working, which now I know isn't right. Derreck's carelessness aggravated me past the point of holding it in.
"What's your problem?" Derreck retorted.
"You!" I replied, looking for a scapegoat, "You don't do anything. Why don't you get a job you bum?" I didn't know how I was going to get by without my other job and my dad's free money and that put me over the edge with Derreck. He didn't have realistic worries or cares.
"Oh, like you're Mr. Perfect," he said angrily, "Back off or I'll have my dad kick you out of here in a heartbeat." At that he stormed out. I started to sit down but ran to the door when I heard my car start. No sooner had I flung open the door than he was gone.
I didn't understand it. Back in high school I was smart, I was in the band and I even got a grant to go to the technical school I went to. I had everything going for me. I guess I just fell in with the wrong people and my life was going nowhere.
I sat down and cried. I just couldn't handle it all. Everything, my whole world, was falling apart around me and I had nothing to lean on.
"It's not fair!" I screamed, "Where is my happiness, where is my joy? I deserve to be happy!" I don't know who I was screaming to but someone must have heard me because just then the phone rang. I stopped my tears and picked it up.
"Hello," I said with a little bit of shakiness in my voice.
"Hey," answered the familiar voice, "its Zach. I was just wondering if you're gonna come to church with me." Would it hurt? Something in my heart strummed like a bass guitar and I knew what to do. As much as I was proud, I was broken.
�Yeah, I�ll come,� I said, �but I don�t have a ride.�
�I�ll be there at 6:30,� he replied.
�See you then,� I said. I hung up the phone with a feeling of great relief. I sat down and started crying again, but this time I wasn�t crying because of the weight of everything that was going on in my life. I was crying because for the first time in a long time, I felt like somebody cared. And not just Zach or even his youth pastor, no, someone with a little more control. All I knew was that my heart was in need of repair, and maybe, just maybe, God was the one who could fix it.