“Unfortunately, things like this happen a lot. Not that it makes it any easier to take. The good news is that your ordeal with the Marshalls will soon be over. Be thankful for that.”

  “I am. But when I think of how horrible I've felt these past few weeks—it just really irks me!”

  “Don't let it get to you, Maya. They say the best revenge is living well. So do something fun, and enjoy your day off.”

  “Okay. I will.” I thanked him again.

  “Oh yeah,” he said before I left. “We're getting good feedback on your column. It seems to have struck a chord with some of our readers.”

  “Cool.”

  So as I drove back home, trying to think of something fun to do, I tried to focus on the positives. The lawsuit would soon be history. My column was doing well. Really, life was good. I called Caitlin and told her the news. She was so relieved. Then I called Marissa, and like me, she was incensed that Brooke was such a liar. “Nice Christian girl,” she said bitterly.

  “Not every Christian is like that,” I pointed out. “And maybe she's not really a Christian.”

  “Yeah. She's probably been faking that too.”

  “Well, she didn't fake that dive.”

  Marissa laughed. “I wish I could've been there to see her face.”

  “I'll send you the photo,” I promised. And I did.

  Finally I called Dominic. He couldn't believe it. Then he suggested we celebrate by going out, which we did. A jazz band was playing in the park, and we went and picked up Greek food and sat in the park and listened. It should've been a great evening, but I couldn't fully enjoy it. I was still stewing over Brooke.

  And even now, it's nearly eleven, and I should probably go to bed, but instead I'm writing in my diary. I still feel angry at Brooke. Instead of going away, my anger seems to be growing. Really, how could she claim to be a Christian and do something so low? I don't get it.

  July 12

  Dominic took me to youth group tonight. Almost everyone has heard the truth about Brooke by now. And while part of me feels vindicated, another part feels vindictive. I don't want to admit it to anyone, but I am still angry. And I wasn't a bit surprised that neither she nor Amanda came tonight. The cowards!

  “It's too bad Brooke and Amanda didn't come to youth group,” Caitlin told me privately.

  “Why's that?” Okay, as soon as I said this, I knew it sounded all wrong. Especially considering that Josh's talk tonight was about forgiveness. I'm still chewing on it, but mostly I don't want to think about it.

  “I just think that now more than ever Brooke needs good fellowship. She needs to experience forgiveness and see what being a part of the body of Christ is really about. She needs to feel God's love in action.”

  Unfortunately, I do not feel terribly loving toward Brooke right now. Or Amanda. And I wanted to ask Caitlin whether Brooke should have to come and ask me for that forgiveness first. I mean, was I supposed to just give her the free-and-clear and act like she didn't really hurt me? But it would probably sound petty…and not very Christlike. One of the things Josh said tonight was that we're supposed to forgive the way Jesus did—completely and whether the other person deserves it or not. But how is that done?

  I think Brooke should get down on her knees and come crawling to me, saying how sorry she is and begging me to forgive her. And even then, I might have to think about it awhile. Maybe a few weeks…or about the same amount of time that she strung me along with her phony-baloney lawsuit. Because I feel pretty sure that Brooke would've continued her little drama queen act right up to the point when my dad handed her dad a big fat check. And that really burns me. How can I forgive that kind of selfishness? How can I act like it didn't hurt?

  Just the same, I'm trying not to obsess over Brooke. I keep reminding myself of what my uncle said: the best revenge is to live well. So I'm trying. And tonight after youth group, Dominic and I took a little moonlight stroll through the park. I wished that Brooke could see me with him, just laughing and enjoying ourselves like normal teens.

  The walk seemed like a fun idea. But then we sat on a bench in an isolated section, and before I knew it, we were kissing. Then we were really making out. And okay, it felt really good—tingly and exciting and wonderful. Part of me just wanted to keep kissing Dominic forever. But another part was saying, “Hey, slow it down. Enough is enough.”

  But did I actually say those words aloud? Of course not. And that has me worried now. Why did I let it just go on and on? Why did Dominic? The worst part is that when we finally pulled away from each other, we both got really quiet. It's like we both knew something was wrong. As we went to the car, he held my hand, but we didn't talk. And as he drove me home, we made small talk and goofy jokes, but it was like we weren't ourselves anymore. Like we'd left something behind in the park. And it really, really bugs me.

  Now I'm thinking, What if Caitlin is right? What if Dominic and I get carried away? What if we end up like Beanie and her boyfriend? I so don't want to go there. I need to talk to Caitlin again. Did I listen carefully enough the first time? Maybe being normal isn't so fun and easy after all.

  Maya's Green Tip for the Day

  “Green is the new black.” And lots of Hollywood people are sporting the latest, greatest environmentally conscious designs. But not everyone can afford to buy earth-friendly clothes. And that's when I say hit the thrift stores and secondhand shops. Still, when you need something new and you have the choice, why not buy clothing made from organically grown fibers and other renewable resources? Because the more popular these green lines get, the more reasonable the prices will become, and then everyone will jump on the bandwagon. So be a trendsetter and dress green.

  July 15

  My attorney stopped by the boutique this afternoon. “I've got news for you,” he told me. Because we had customers just then, Jackie suggested we go to the back room to talk.

  “Did Mr. Marshall settle?” I asked hopefully. Mr. Bernard had sent a letter to Brooke's dad late last week, but Mr. Marshall had been out of town for a few days.

  He laughed. “Settle?”

  I frowned. “What, then?” Okay, I'm not exactly a legal expert.

  “To settle would mean that we pay them to keep the case from going to court. Under these new circumstances, a settlement would be ridiculous. I simply informed Mr. Marshall that we were considering a countersuit for—”

  “But I don't want to sue anyone. I just want all this to be over and done—”

  “Yes, I realize that, Maya.” He smiled patiently. “But you're probably aware that lawyers play games sometimes. I simply wanted to make it clear that the ball is in our court now. And to ensure Mr. Marshall and his daughter understand we are willing to play hardball if necessary.”

  I sort of laughed. “You're really into sports metaphors.”

  He grinned. “I'm sure Jackie's told you that I'm a bit of a sports fan—or fanatic as she calls it.”

  “So…what happened?”

  “Well, yesterday I received a letter from Mr. Marshall denying the validity of the photos. This didn't surprise me.”

  “Why?”

  “He's an attorney. It was an expected reaction. So your uncle and I met him for coffee this morning.”

  “Really?” I couldn't imagine Uncle Allen and Mr. Bernard having coffee with Mr. Marshall. Okay, I don't even know Mr. Marshall, but I imagine him as this mean, evil lowlife.

  “It was your uncle's idea. At first I wasn't too sure.”

  “So how did that go?”

  “We sat down like civilized gentlemen and showed him copies of the photos and asked him to explain them to us.”

  “Did he?”

  “He actually looked fairly shocked. He studied the copies closely, examined the dates, and made some notes. Finally he just shook his head, and I knew we had him. Just to be certain, I assured him that the photos would stand up in a court of law.”

  “And?”

  “He was rather upset.”

  “So he didn't know that Brooke was faking it?” Now this just made no sense to me. How was that possible?

  “Apparently not. Or else he's a very good actor.”

  “But what about the doctors, the braces, and all that?”

  “Yes. Exactly what we asked Mr. Marshall.”

  “And?”

  “He admitted that Brooke had gotten in trouble with her mother the same afternoon that she fell off the scaffolding.”

  “In trouble? For falling?”

  “No. It seems that Brooke had lied to her mom about using a credit card a couple of weeks ago, and Mrs. Marshall had received the bill that same day. She was not happy.”

  “Oh?” I sensed where this was going now.

  “So Brooke played on her mom's sympathy by allowing the accident to take center stage and distract her from the credit-card bill.”

  “It was a pretty big fall,” I admitted.

  “True. And it's possible that Brooke was injured, but not to the degree that she played it up.”

  “But wouldn't x-rays show that?”

  “Spinal injuries are complicated. Every spine is different. And often the doctor can only treat the symptoms.” He sighed. “Brooke started complaining of pain and went to lie down. Later on she said that her legs were numb and that she couldn't get out of bed. As you can imagine, her mother was alarmed.”

  I nodded.

  “So she called for paramedics, and Brooke was transported to the hospital, where her drama act took on a life of its own.”

  “And the credit-card bill was forgotten.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Then Brooke was trapped in her lie,” I said.

  “Exactly.”

  “So she just kept it going.”

  “That's what her father is thinking.”

  “That is so mean.”

  “And selfish.”

  Even so, I have to admit I felt a certain amount of relief that it was only Brooke playing this nasty game. Well, Amanda too. But at least her parents weren't in on the scam. It had been pretty disturbing to think Mr. and Mrs. Marshall were that messed up.

  “Brooke's dad is probably having a long talk with Brooke right now.”

  “And the lawsuit?”

  “There will be no lawsuit.”

  “Not on our part either?”

  “Not unless you want to—”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I just want it to end. I mean, I realize you've put time and energy into it, and I know my dad will pay you for whatever you've—”

  Mr. Bernard smiled. “Don't worry, Maya. It's not as if I wanted to take Brooke to court. But I do hope she learns a lesson. And I hope her parents don't let her off easily.”

  I nodded. “Me too.”

  “I did tell Mr. Marshall that Brooke owed you an apology, and he promised to see that it happens.”

  I frowned. “A forced apology?”

  “Hopefully, she'll be genuinely sorry.”

  “Hopefully…”

  Still, I'm not so sure. She's probably mad that she's been found out and furious at me for catching her on camera. How did she think she could continue her little charade without being discovered? And what a pain it must've been to wear that silly brace and use a walker! A high price to pay for Mommy's pity.

  But even more than that, how can Brooke come before God and act like what she did was okay? Didn't she feel like a liar and a hypocrite? I mean, I realize Christians aren't perfect. But what about that still, small voice we're supposed to listen to? Why couldn't Brooke hear it herself? It's just too weird.

  July 17

  My dad called this morning. He usually checks in with me about once a week, depending on his schedule. But I'd already called him on Tuesday, leaving a message about the lawsuit. Naturally, he was relieved. But he was also curious about the details, so I explained why Brooke faked the whole thing. And like me, he was astounded.

  “Man, that's a pretty hard act to keep up,” he said. “And I can't imagine how hot and cumbersome it would be to wear a body brace in July.”

  I had to laugh. “Maybe that's why she decided to go swimming.”

  “In a way, being stuck in her medical getup might've been a form of punishment in itself.”

  “I guess. Although I think she enjoyed the attention it got her.” Everyone at youth group had gathered around her, helping her, showing sympathy. And although wearing the brace must have been miserable, I hope her parents dole out a little more punishment.

  I still can't believe what she put us all through. Yesterday I added up all the people who were affected by her little scam, and there were more than twenty: my family, people at church, my boss and her husband, the park and recreation people, even Brooke's family—and probably Amanda and her family too. That's just crazy. If I wasn't so selfish about wanting to live a normal life, I might actually consider participating in a class-action suit against Brooke Marshall. Okay, probably not. I remember what Caitlin said about Christians not taking other Christians to court. But…is Brooke really a Christian? I don't think so.

  Anyway, the main reason my dad called (besides expressing relief over the lawsuit) was to tell me he's taking a few days off toward the end of July.

  “I'd like to come visit you, if that's okay,” he told me.

  “Yeah, sure…” I knew I didn't sound too excited, and I think he heard the uncertainty in my voice.

  “Unless it's not a convenient time for you, Maya. I wouldn't want to be an intrusion or anything—”

  “No no,” I said quickly. “Really, Dad, it'll be great to see you.”

  “You're sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Naturally, I'll stay in a hotel. I don't want to put Allen out.”

  “Yeah. That might be a good idea. This house isn't that big, and I've already taken over their guest room.”

  “Anyway, I thought you might get a couple of days off from your job, and we could spend some time together. Maybe do something fun. How does that sound?”

  “Awesome, Dad.”

  “And to be honest, I'll probably just need some downtime too. I'm pretty exhausted, and I still have the Scandinavia tour to do. I'm booked ten nights during the next two weeks.”

  “Wow, that sounds pretty tough,” I said. “Make sure you take good care of yourself, Dad.”

  “Thanks, baby. I appreciate it.”

  Although I was pretty shocked that my celebrity dad is coming here to Small Town USA—probably making a splashy entrance into my otherwise normal life—I am trying to be okay with it. He's not coming here to be in the limelight. He just wants to see his daughter, and that's nice. And he really sounded tired. He'll need to take it easy. Nick Stark never goes anywhere without being recognized, and that can be a pain. So my plan is to keep everything very low-key.

  I told Kim and Uncle Allen about his impending visit, and they both seemed eager to meet him. But I made it clear that we didn't want anyone to make a fuss. “He's looking for some downtime since his concert schedule has been pretty grueling. He'll want to keep a low profile.”

  “No worries there,” Uncle Allen said. “I can understand his desire to fly under the radar.”

  “Totally,” Kim agreed. “But maybe we can barbecue here at the house one evening.”

  “That's a good idea,” I said. “And I want him to see my—I mean, Aunt Patricia's garden.”

  My uncle smiled. “It's your garden too, Maya. And Patricia is probably smiling down from heaven to see how fantastic it looks now.”

  Kim nodded. “This is the best it's looked in years.”

  “And maybe we could invite a few people,” I said, suddenly eager for a social event. “Like Jackie and Robert Bernard—they've been so supportive of me.”

  “I'm sure your dad would like to meet some of your friends,” my uncle said, “so he can see what your life is like.”

  “You're right,” I said. “I'll make a short list. And I don't want you guys to lift a finger for this little soiree. I'll handle everything.”

  “I'm happy to help,” Kim said.

  “And I'm pretty handy on the barbecue,” Uncle Allen added.

  “Okay.” I nodded. “But I'll be responsible for getting everything together, and I might hire a caterer for some of it.”

  “This is sounding very cool,” Kim said. “I can't wait.”

  So really, I'm going to be okay with having my dad here—and it'll only be for a few days. Besides, I'm looking forward to seeing him again. I've made out a guestlist that includes the Bernards and Dominic. I might ask Marissa and her dad since he's such a fan. And maybe Caitlin and Josh. But I'll try to keep the number under twenty.

  July 19

  I met with Caitlin again this morning, and she asked me about Brooke Marshall. “Have you spoken to her yet?”

  I shrugged. “No, why should I?”

  She frowned slightly. “I guess I just assumed that you'd want to.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, this is a small town, Maya. And even though you don't see her much during summer break, you will see her at school in the fall. And you might see her at church, if she isn't too embarrassed to show up.”

  “I didn't see her there on Sunday.”

  “Exactly. Josh and I were concerned, so we went to visit her this week.”

  “You went to her house?” Why would they want to go see Brooke Marshall? I actually felt sort of betrayed, like they had suddenly switched sides and were now against me.

  “Josh said that if Brooke wasn't going to come to us, we would go to her.”

  “So…how did it go?”

  “Okay.” Caitlin smiled. “We called her mother to make sure Brooke would be home. Mrs. Marshall actually seemed glad that we wanted to come visit. She assured us that Brooke would most definitely be home—in fact she will be home for the rest of the summer since that's how long she's grounded for.”

  I nodded with a smidgen of satisfaction. “I'm glad she has some consequences.”

  “She has a lot of consequences.” Caitlin took a sip of her mocha. “Besides being grounded and responsible for all the household chores—since both her parents work outside the home—she is also one sorry girl.”