Leap of Faith - Cassidy Shay (children's ebooks free online txt) 📗

I look out the car window and sigh. "I guess I better go in and tell the news about... well, everything." I lean forward and rest my head on the dash board. 

"You haven't told them yet? About any of it?"

I shake my head. "It's not really something that I want to talk about over the phone. 'Hey guys, my boyfriend dumped me and I can hear again. Surprise!' No way." I sigh. "Besides, I wanted some peace time before I got sucked back into my mom's storm. If I tell her I can hear, it'll be like August all over again. The doctors, the pastors." I shake my head. "And, I'm sure, the reporters. I just want to give myself a little time before I have to deal with all of that."

He nods, pulls me in for another hug. "Okay. Just give me a call if you need anything." 

I look at my house again, take another deep breath. "See you later, Mikey." 

 

Three days later, I've barely moved from my bed. I get up to go to the bathroom, and once or twice a day to get a snack. I don't feel like eating. I don't feel like showering or doing anything. 

It seems ridiculous. this is just another teenage break up. It was bound to happen eventually, right?

But this isn't just an ordinary break up. He made me hear again. For months, his voice was literally the only thing I could hear. Doesn't that mean something? How can he think that that doesn't mean we're meant to be together?

Every once in a while I hear my phone vibrate against the dresser, but I don't check to see who texted me. My mom comes to check on me several times a day, and I just tell her that I don't feel good. "Maybe I ate some bad food or something," I tell her. 

Finally, on Wednesday afternoon, Mom comes in and sits on my bed. "Amia, we need to talk. What's wrong?" I consider lying. I could tell her that Mikey and I had sex, and I'm regretting it. She'd be pissed, but that's better than the truth. I only consider that for about half a second, before I realize how ridiculous a lie like that would be, considering the truth.

No. I'll have to tell her eventually. 

"Mikey broke up with me." My voice cracks at the end, and I start crying again. I thought I was all out of tears. She pulls me in close to her, and I sob against her chest. "He broke up with me. And then..." I take a big, shaky breath. "Then I was able to hear. Everything. I could hear everything."

Mikey

 

For the next several days, I don't hear from Amia at all. I think about her a lot, send her a couple texts. I know we're not a couple anymore, but I really am not ready to let go of our friendship. But I know she needs her time, her space, so I try not to overdo it. She'll respond to me when she's ready. 

At the radio station, I go about life as normal. I pretend like nothing has changed. I pray that none of the callers talk about her. I pray that one of the callers will be her. 

Finally, Thursday night, I get a call from her on my cell phone. I'm sitting on the couch watching TV, and I jump up when I see her name on my screen. 

"Amia. Hi." I'm standing in the middle of my living room, and my mom gives me a weird look. I go into my bedroom, shut my door. I don't know what this conversation will hold, and I don't want an audience. 

"Hi, Mikey." Her voice, so familiar, so soft, breaks my heart. "I talked to my mom yesterday. I told her everything that happened. This morning, we went to see the doctor again. Just like last time, he couldn't find any reason why I should be able to hear. My ear drums are still just as damaged as they were when I was six. I shouldn't be able to hear a single thing. But I can hear everything."

Despite the confusion that she must be feeling, I can hear the smile in her voice as she says that last sentence. She can hear everything. It's a feeling that I can never even come close to knowing. I smile myself, because of how great that is for her. She can hear. 

"We asked them to keep it down, not to tell anyone about any of this. I don't want it to get out, and have to deal with all the reporters and everything again. But I wanted to let you know that it is out there, and there's a chance that you'll wake up in the morning to reporters on your lawn. God, I hope not. I didn't mention anything about you at all, so hopefully if word gets out they'll leave you alone and just torment me."

"So what's the next step? Are you going to stay at the school, or transfer somewhere?"

"Well, Mom and I talked about that today. I'm going to stay at school. I don't want somewhere completely new. I know some of the students there, and I know the teachers. I know that going to the old school will mean I don't get a fresh start. But we talked about it. School doesn't start for another two and a half months, right? So by the time I get there, when people find out I can hear everything, it'll just be old news. It won't be news. It'll be something that's been going on for several months. And since those kids were already used to going to school with the freak who can suddenly hear the radio after being completely deaf, they shouldn't have trouble adjusting to the freak who can hear everything after being completely deaf. With a new batch of kids, the minute they found out about my story, they'd be all over me, and wouldn't leave me alone about it. So we decided that that's the best thing to do."

I nod. "Sounds like you guys have thought it all out. It probably feels good to at least have a plan. And school should be easier now, since you can hear everything. Right?"

"Yeah, it'll be a lot easier."

It's silent for a minute. "So... how have you been? Other than the appointment?"

She sighs, and I instantly regret asking that question. I should have said something else. Anything else. "Well, not so great. I've basically been laying in my bed the entire time. This morning was my first shower since... well, since early Saturday morning, I guess." She pauses. "Wow. That's disgusting. I am one disgusting human being. No wonder you broke up with me." She laughs a little, so that I know she's just joking. 

"I've basically just been waiting in bed, not responding to anything or anyone. I turn on the radio at 3:30, and then turn it off once you're done. You'd think I would be out doing all the things and hearing all the sounds. But it's so hard to peel myself out of bed even to go to the bathroom."

"I'm sorry," I say softly. I hate knowing that I've caused her this pain. 

"I just..." She stops. "Mikey, you made me hear. You came into my life and in less than a year I regained all of my hearing. It all started with you. This miracle, this, whatever you want to call it. It all started with you. For so long, your voice was all that I heard. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Doesn't that seem like a sign? You're the one always talking about how God still cares, still interacts with us. Doesn't it seem like he's telling us that we need to be together?"

I sigh. "Amia, I can't tell you how much it hurts me to do this."

"Then don't do it!" Her voice is raised, and I feel my face getting hot. 

"Amia, it's not like that. I don't want to do it. But I have to do what I think is right."

"And this is right? Causing us both all this heart break? This is what you think God wants for us? Why would He want that?"

"Amia, stop!" I'm not yelling, but I say it with enough force that she shuts up. "I'm not going to discuss this with you. I can't just sit here and ignore what my heart is telling me. I need to follow this, see if it leads anywhere. Stop making this about you. This isn't about you." 

Instead of replying, she hangs up the phone. I sigh, frustrated at myself for doing that. Why did I have to be so harsh?

My mom knocks on my door, comes in. "Is everything okay?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, just..." I sigh. "No, Mom, everything's not okay. I feel like my life is falling apart. My parents are getting a divorce and my girlfriend is mad at me." I shake my head. "No, she's not my girlfriend. I made sure of that. I'm the one who broke up with her, remember? But I didn't want to. I just felt like I had to." By now, I'm talking more to myself than to my mom. "I just don't know anything."

She comes over and wraps me into a hug. "Honey, I'm sorry. I wish I could fix everything for you. I'm so sorry for all the pain that I've caused you. So incredibly sorry."

I shake my head. "I know." I hug her back. "I just don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix things."

She nods her head, and then squeezes me tighter. “I know, honey. And in life there are some things that you just won’t be able to fix. I think that you made the right decision, and you guys will both have to come to accept that.”

I slowly pull away from her. “Yeah, but you hate Amia. You always have. So of course you’d think that breaking up with her is the right thing to do.”

She shakes her head, and I can see the sadness in her eyes. It’s something I’ve come to recognize much too easily. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I didn’t know when the best time was, and I know that you’ve been angry at your dad and I. But I want to apologize for how I’ve acted towards Amia. I really haven’t been welcoming, and I was much too quick to judge. Obviously her parents’ problems were not her fault, and they don’t automatically make her a delinquent. I’m sorry for treating her like she was. It was not the Christian thing to do, and I hope that both of you will be able to forgive me.”

I look at her, surprised. I had no idea she felt that way now. I just sort of avoided talking about Amia the last several months because I knew she didn’t like her. “I can forgive you, Mom,” I say. “You were trying to look out for me. That still doesn’t excuse it, but I appreciate the apology.”

She smiles at me. “I see the good that she’s done for you, and I can tell that you’ve done good for her as