Carlson Melody - Stealing Bradford

“Are you saying you didn’t invite Bradford? Or that you didn’t include Harry and Conner to create a little smoke screen?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“You honestly expect me to believe it?”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a rip whether you believe me or not.” Taylor started getting ready for bed. “I’ve had more than enough of you for one night, DJ. If this is any indicator of what rooming with you is going to be like, I might just beg Rhiannon to come back.”

“Like she even would.”

“She probably would.” Taylor glared at DJ. “Because even though Rhiannon is totally naïve, at least she’s nice. Unlike some people who go around falsely accusing others and acting like they’re so superior.”

“Taylor,” demanded DJ, “who else would’ve invited Bradford?”

“I thought maybe you did.” Taylor turned her back now, removed her shirt and her bra, and slipped on a silky pink nightshirt.

“Yeah, right.”

“Maybe Rhiannon did?” Taylor still had her back to DJ as she put her clothes away.

“Get real.”

“Then it had to be Eliza, because it wasn’t me.”

“You swear you didn’t invite Bradford?”

Taylor turned around and narrowed her eyes at DJ now. “If I want to swear, I’ll swear until the cows come home. But I’m not going to let you push me around, DJ. If you want to blame me, fine. I really don’t give a rip.” Then Taylor stomped off into the bathroom and slammed the door.

DJ knew she should just let it go, but she couldn’t stand the idea of Taylor messing with people and then lying and expecting to get away with it. It just wasn’t fair. There seemed one easy way to settle this. She went to Eliza’s room and tapped on the door. To her surprise, it was already dark.

“Sorry,” she said as she poked her head in.

Eliza turned on the bedside lamp and sat up. “It sounds like World War III out there. What is going on anyway?”

“I need to know something,” DJ whispered. “Rhiannon and I switched rooms. And Taylor and I are already having a great big fight. She totally denies inviting Bradford here tonight. I know that I didn’t. And Rhiannon sure didn’t. And neither did Casey. I figured if I talked to you guys, I could nail her and—”

“Taylor didn’t invite Bradford,” said Eliza.

“She didn’t?”

“No…I did.”

DJ frowned. “Why?”

“Oh, I had this half-baked idea of trying to get Rhiannon and Bradford back together. I talked to him after drama and told him how brokenhearted she was, and he actually seemed to care. I invited him here just so he could at least be nice to her, maybe cheer her up. And then she runs off and disappears.”

“And he cozies up with Taylor.”

“Yeah, it kind of backfired on me.”

“Are you guys about done?” demanded Kriti in a cranky voice. “Some of us would like to get some sleep around here.”

“Good night,” said DJ, quietly closing the door behind her.

She stood in the hallway for a few minutes trying to wrap her head around this little dilemma. Wasn’t this just perfect? Her first night rooming with Taylor and she’d falsely accused her. Did this mean she had to apologize now? That just seemed so wrong.

TAYLOR WAS STILL IN THE BATHROOM,so DJ quickly got ready for bed and considered pretending to be asleep. Instead, she prayed. It was the first time she’d actually prayed today, and she felt guilty for that. Still, she knew she needed some help just now. She remembered how Rhiannon had promised to pray for her tonight. And if DJ was going to apologize to Taylor, she’d need some divine help.

When Taylor emerged from the bathroom, DJ felt ready. “Taylor, I need to tell you something…”

“Wow, I can hardly wait,” said Taylor as she peeled the comforter back from her bed and punched a down pillow.

“I was wrong.”

Taylor turned and stared at DJ. “What?”

“I was wrong to accuse you of inviting Bradford tonight. I thought you’d devised some kind of evil scheme to sabotage Rhiannon. And I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Taylor kind of laughed. “So who invited him anyway?”

“Eliza.”

“Well, remind me to thank that girl in the morning.”

“Yeah…right.”

“And I should thank you too.”

“Why?” she muttered, almost afraid to hear the answer now.

“Because the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of Bradford and me as a couple. We actually have a lot in common.”

“Like what?”

“We both have famous mothers, and we’ve been exposed to art and culture and music.”

DJ refrained from rolling her eyes or yawning. After all, she was supposed to be apologizing. It might cancel it all out if she made fun of Taylor now.

“Besides, after all the grief you’ve given me today, I figure I must’ve already paid my dues, DJ. So I might as well just go for the whole enchilada. Don’t you think?”

DJ had absolutely no response to this. And so without saying a word, she went into the bathroom. Although it was getting late, she took much longer than usual to get ready for bed. She even flossed. Anything to avoid going back out there where Taylor was probably planning her next strategy for attaining Bradford. Not that she needed to work too hard at it. Poor Rhiannon. With friends like DJ and Eliza—who’d tried to help but seriously messed up—that girl didn’t need enemies.

When DJ finally slipped out of the bathroom, it was dark and quiet in the room. She tiptoed across the room and crawled into bed. Then, closing her eyes tightly, she prayed for the second time that day. This time, she told God she was sorry. To be honest, she wasn’t completely sure what she was sorry about. She just knew that she was sorry. And she hoped that tomorrow, she’d get a fresh start. Maybe not with Taylor, but hopefully with God.

It took a few seconds for DJ to get her bearings the next morning. Something was different. What was it? This room was blue…not yellow, and her bed was in the wrong spot. Suddenly, she remembered she’d switched rooms, which meant she had a new roommate—a roommate who was already up and literally singing in the shower. DJ wasn’t surprised that Taylor had a fairly decent voice. But she was totally shocked that she seemed to be in a pretty good mood today.

DJ stretched in bed and sat up. Last night, when she and Taylor were arguing, she’d noticed that Rhiannon had placed her Bible—what used to be DJ’s mom’s Bible—on the bedside table. This morning she picked it up and opened it to where Rhiannon must’ve stuck in a bookmark. DJ guessed that the colorful bookmark, with a pretty beaded ribbon tied to it, had been made by Rhiannon. Then midway down the page was a sticky note with an arrow drawn on it. She read the verse the arrow seemed to be pointing to and then she read the following one. “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you.” (Matthew 5:43–44).

But she didn’t understand the meaning of these sentences. In fact, they not only sounded totally alien, like from another planet, but they sounded totally impossible as well. To start with, the verses said to not only love your friends, but love your enemies too . Now, she could almost get that. But it didn’t stop there. It also said to speak kind words to someone who swears and cusses at you. And to do good to someone who hates your guts. And finally to pray for people who use and abuse you. What was up with that? Who really lived like that? DJ even doubted that angelic Rhiannon could meet this standard consistently. And yet, Rhiannon had obviously marked those sentences. Why?