Bright Purple: Color Me Confused with Bonus Content Read Online Free PDF Page A

homosexuality is a sin.
    I keep on praying like this until I hear a knock at my door, which makes me jump, and I almost expect Jess to walk in. What would I do then?
    “Hey, Ramie,” calls my mom. “I’m going to the fitness club with Brenda now. Do you want to come?”
    “No thanks,” I call back.
    “We might grab a bite to eat afterward,” she says.
    I laugh. “Well, as long as you’re not going for pizza or cheeseburgers,” I warn her. “That might void your workout.”
    “Yeah, yeah. See you later.”
    I feel a little guilty for not going, since I was the one to talk Mom into joining the fitness club in the first place. To encourage her, I joined too. We got a great two-for-one deal, and during summer I used to go with her at least three times a week. But then her friend Brenda stepped in and joined the club, and since I get more than enough exercise with my sports during the school year, I have stepped out. My mom has had a weight problem since I can remember. She’s always going on some kind of diet, but then she cheats and ends up being even heavier than before. But the fitness club seems to be working. And it’s nice to see her shedding a few pounds. I know it makes her happier too. I’m glad to see she’s sticking with it.
    Even so, the house feels really empty after Mom leaves, and it occurs to me that I don’t usually spend this much time here on my own. I suppose some people might think I was moping, or maybe just avoiding something—or
someone
. Usually Jess and I hang out together after church on Sundays. Sometimes I go to her house or sometimes we go out and try to find something to do. But suddenly I feel kind of alone. Kind of lonely.
    Our townhouse has three levels. The first level has the garage and the master bedroom, my mom’s domain. The second level has a kitchen and family room that’s fairly spacious, with lots of windows that overlook a nice view of the rolling hills. The third level is all mine. It has a smaller bedroom and bath. But because it’s on the third level and my mom’s not exactly in great shape yet, she hardly ever comes up here. Consequently, it can get pretty messy. I blame this on my busy extracurricular schedule.
    I mean, we just barely finished volleyball season, which happens to be my favorite sport. The state tournament was like, two weeks ago. I was disappointed that we only took third, but then some of our stronger players graduated last year. Anyway, I had all of four days to recover from volleyball and suddenly it’s basketball season. The truth is, I didn’t really want to play basketball. But Jess talked me into it. At the time I told myself that it would be a good way to stay in shape for spring soccer, my second favorite sport, and I can hold my own on the basketball court besides. But now I’m starting to wonder.
    So I blame my packed schedule for the condition of the third floor, and if Mom ever came up here, I’m sure I could create a convincing defense. But since I have nothing better to do today, and I’m tired of thinking about
stuff
, I decide to roll up my sleeves and clean up my space. As I work, I tell myself that maybe God is watching me. Maybe he’ll be pleased with my obedience (because Mom really does expect me to keep this part of the house clean), and he’ll honor me by answering my prayers in regard to Jess. Anyway, it seems a good theory as I crank up my CD player and turn this cleaning routine into an aerobic workout.
    Finally, it’s almost five o’clock. I’ve just hauled the last basket of clean laundry back upstairs and am putting the still warm-from-the-dryer sheets on my bed when I hear my cell phone ringing from inside my purse. But I don’t want to answer it, since Jess is about the only one who ever calls me on my cell phone. Well, besides my mom, that is. And if it is Jess, which I’m sure is the case, I don’t want to talk. Just the same, I grab the phone and check the caller ID, but it’s a number I don’t