Chapter 7

Alexis

I head back to the bus early after the show, leaving them to do meet-and-greets and clean up without me.

We've been on tour a couple weeks now, but hearing some of their music hasn't gotten any easier. I mean, Joel's speech and "Priceless" still leave me completely ashamed of how I feel on the inside... how I treat myself... and all of my innocence being gone.

I know people say it isn't my fault, that it's not like that, and that God redeems everything anyway, but... it just doesn't feel like that. I mean, what if it is my fault? Maybe I was dressed in a way that provoked them. Maybe it was punishment for everything else that I've ever done. And maybe if I hadn't have been such a loser, they would never have done it to me.

And my heart seems to be left completely shredded by all of them anyway, like each of them tore a piece out and took it with them, never for me to see again.

And "Priceless" isn't all. I mean, there's Moriah's songs like "Haven't Even Kissed" and "I'll Wait for You", which just bring up all of that again.

And then there's Colton's songs like "Scars", "Never Gone", and, especially, "Rise". I'll never be able to look him in the eye when he's singing those.

And Mike's "You Are More", "Healing Begins", and "No Man Is an Island", among others.

He's always so sweet, so funny and peppy. Yet he can get so serious too. He's asked me multiple times a week if I'm okay. He's just too perceptive.

And there's Anthem Lights. I've been hearing most of their music for the first time on this tour.

And I've been hiding tears for multiple ones of them. "Boomerang", especially. I broke down crying when I first heard it, and had to run to the bathroom and cut to make myself stop. They just have such a way with words.

I shove the thoughts aside as I push through the door of the bus and close it behind me, letting out a long sigh.

Not that it applies to me anyway. I mean, I just can't let them know how badly I'm still struggling. They'll hate me for it. This isn't how they've been teaching me to be.

I climb up the ladder to my bunk, carefully adjusting the curtain over my window so that I can see out through a crack to make sure no one's coming, but so that they won't be able to see in.

And, slowly, I reach into one of my cabinets, my hand slides inside a small, cloth bag, and closes over my razor. And, just like that, it's sliding across my arm.

When I first started again, I just skimmed the surface, like I did years ago. But now, I'm cutting as deep as I ever have, fascinated by the sight of my own blood. Because it is they pain, yes. But it's not only that. For some reason, watching my blood, spilling at my own hand, just soothes me. It's sick. It's horrible and unchristian. But it's also true. That's why things like ice cubes and rubber bands never worked when I tried them. Because the pain isn't as deep, and there's no blood.

I pull it slowly, making every bit of the pain last as long as it can, as tears flash to my eyes and I grit my teeth against it. The blood, in contrast, leaps out, sliding eagerly down my arm as more flows. Frantically, I use my free hand to reach back inside the bag and grab a white cloth, sliding it beneath my arm just in time. At least, it used to be white. Now, there's hardly any part of it not stained in dark blood.

I thought that one cut might do it, but it doesn't. The bleeding line on my arm only makes me want more. The pain inside overwhelms me, and I do it again.

When I'm done, I wrap the razor in the cloth and shove them back in the little bag, and carefully climb down to the floor. The blood has covered a good part of my forearm, and I have to be careful to make sure it doesn't drip onto the carpet.

And I slip into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and letting cold water wash over the cuts and the area around them. I watch the red water swirl down the drain, and I can't hold the tears back any longer. I'm crying uncontrollably in a matter of seconds.

What's wrong with me? Why can't I just stop? I'm supposed to be a Christian! I'm not supposed to live like this anymore!

Maybe you shouldn't live at all. You can't seem to do it right.

I let my head drop into my hands, leaving the water running as I cry.

Please no. This can't be happening. Why can't I just get better? Christians aren't supposed to be depressed. Christians with perfect lives certainly aren't.

So why am I still so messed up?

Alan

"Are you sure everyone's is ready?" Spencer asks Joel.

He nods certainly. "Positive, Mate. I did Moriah's bus, Luke did Colton's, and Ben did Mike and the gang's. Everything's set."

"And everyone is connected to their speaker?" Spencer presses.

I sigh, glancing down at my phone in one hand, my Bluetooth-enabled mp3 player in the other. Check, and check.

"Yeah, Spencer, we've got them," Caleb groans. "This is only about the millionth time you've asked.

"I just wanted to make sure," Spencer sighs. "I want this to work."

"It will," Caleb retorts, though he can't hide his smile. "Just take a chill pill, man,"

I shake my head at the two of them, glancing around the cramped quarters of our bus. Joel, Luke, and their band, as well as all of our guys, each with two or three devices in front of them. It took as many to cover all the spots Spencer wanted to.

"And all the alarms are still set?" Spencer pushes on.

"Yes, Spencer," Caleb groans. "My gosh, Dude, you'd think we were pulling off a top-secret spy mission or something, not pulling a lame prank."

Spencer mutters something indistinguishable back, and we fall into silence, all dully watching our clocks. Five fifty-eight. Two more minutes.

"Are they really all different?" Timmy breaks the moment of silence. "Cause that's gonna be really annoying."

"Yes, they are, and yes, it is," Spencer replies, grinning. "That's kinda the whole point."

"Whose idea was this anyway?" Chad asks, yawning. "And why couldn't it have happened an hour later?"

"It was Joel's and mine, and that's also the whole point," Spencer sighs. "Just go with the plan, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Chad sighs. "But I still think this is a bit obsessive."

We fall back to quiet, waiting.

Until every device lights up in alarms, and Bluetooth speakers at full blast from multiple places in every bus come to life, each carrying a different "Veggie Tales" song. The theme song, a million of Larry's, and a bunch more from the stories, coming from under the pillows of each person in the other bands.

A second after the music starts – we cut the songs to the middle so that they wouldn't be quiet to begin with – and high-pitched screams echo from Moriah and Colton's busses. That would be the girls.

Spencer is laughing already, and bounds out the door to meet them as they stream from the bus doors. I follow him more slowly with Chad, Caleb, and Joey, but for KING & COUNTRY stays behind. Probably Joel trying to stay innocent for as long as possible.

Moriah's gang is first, their hands over their ears as they all try to stumble through the bus door at once. And next is Lexi, bursting ahead of the guys from Colton's bus, her hands in the same position.

Tenth Avenue North is laughing as they walk out, and Colton is too, behind the rest of his band. Obviously, they've already figured out what happened. As has Moriah, but she's far from laughing.

I try to hide my smile as she storms over to Spencer, glowering.

"So help me, Spencer..." She starts, but he cuts her off, raising his hands in defense. "Hey, it wasn't just me."

I can barely hear them over the music.

Moriah opens her mouth to respond, but stops, obviously realizing who's still missing from our little party out here.

"He didn't," she says quietly.

Spencer just grins. "He did."

Her jaw clenches. "Where is he?"

Caleb waves her to our bus with a small flourish, and she whirls in that direction.

"Joel David Smallbone..." She begins at the top of her lungs, and disappears inside.

I turn back to the group, my eyes finding Lexi.

And I realize for the first time that her arms are bare. Even though I know she used to cut, the sight of them, covered in fading scars, hurts. I just can't believe she would do that to herself.

And something on her left wrist catches my eye. Something red.

Carefully, I look closer, trying to stay unnoticed.

And I feel my heart drop. Because, carved on her wrist, are two bright red cuts. Fresh cuts. Not the faded ivory stripes that cover her arms. My eyes travel down, and I find more... not quite as fresh, but still definitely from the last few days and weeks.

But... why?

And, how? There's no way if Colton knew they would be that fresh. He watches her too closely.

As if somehow sensing what I'm thinking, Lexi suddenly starts, looking at her wrist. I say anxiety flow over her face as her eyes circle the group. Quickly, I look away, watching her out of the corner of my eye. Seemingly satisfied that no one saw, she tucks her arms into her chest.

"Would you please just make it stop?" One of Moriah's girls asks desperately.

I pull my two devices from my pockets and dismiss the alarms, and the others gradually do the same until the lot I is silent once more.

"My gosh, what on earth was that?" Lexi gasps after a long moment of silence.

Colton looks at her, raising an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"No," she replies, her tone making it obvious that she has no idea why she should.

He smiles slightly. "You've never seen 'Veggie Tales', have you?"

"'Veggie Tales'?" she asks suspiciously, like she thinks he's trying to pull something on her. "Are you serious?"

"You never have seen it," he says, shaking his head slowly. "Girl, that's rough."

"Yeah, gee," Caleb chimes in, "What kind of a childhood doesn't have Bob and Larry in it?"

"Yeah, cause my life without that obnoxious music must have been so deprived," she retorts.

"Awe, you like it when you're little," Colton assures her. "And, Lex, you are not gonna go your entire minor life without watching that. We're doing it, tonight, after the show, since we don't have to move out until tomorrow."

"Like, a marathon?" Spencer asks, sounding way too delighted. "Yeah, that'll be awesome!"

"So awesome," Alexis groans, but we all just laugh.

But as we turn away to get ready for our days, the picture of Lexi's wrists burns in my memory. Why is she still doing that? The thought of it breaks my heart. Why wouldn't she go to Colton for help? She knows he'll always love her, doesn't she?

I sigh slightly. I guess she doesn't.

But I can't let her keep doing that to herself. I'll give her tonight, but tomorrow, I'm gonna have to talk to her about it, and then we'll have to tell Colton.

I don't want to do it, because I know how scared and shamed she's gonna be, but I already care about her way too much to let her keep hurting herself like that. I just hope this actually makes it better, instead of worse like I have the feeling it will. 

A/N: I'm back, guys! I know it's been like forever, but finals suck, even when you're home schooled. Plus, from Thursday through yesterday, I was working literally all day on a youth group yard sale, and the funds from that make it so that I can go to summer events like conferences and concerts (including a Colton Dixon one, and a for KING & COUNTRY one), so I think I sort-of have an excuse? Maybe not. But the point is, here's one more chapter, at least, and I promise I will update as soon as I can. :)