"For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart." – Hebrews 4:12

For Alana, walking into school Monday morning was almost like walking down the red carpet. As soon as she was done celebrating with the surf team, the rest of the student body swarmed around her like paparazzi. She had barely taken a step into the breezeway before she was bombarded by a group of girls who congratulated her on getting in the newspaper. "You're so talented," one of them gushed.

During another incident, this time directly in front of her locker, a couple guys said they had watched her video and were stunned by how well she could surf. "You deserved to win that competition," they added. "You're the best girl I've seen in the water."

All the attention was mortifying to Alana, who hated being in the spotlight. She weakly headed to first period with her head down, scrolling rapidly through her phone. If she couldn't slip by unseen, then at least she could send a message that she didn't want to be bothered.

But when fifty-three notifications popped up, Alana stopped on a dime. Fifty-three? How was that even possible? She scrolled halfheartedly through all the comments, tweets, and posts, not realizing that she had a whole fan club right at her fingertips. To her, it was a little creepy that so many people knew who she was and what she had done. People who hadn't even watched the competition were congratulating her on the win. Those who had seen Trevor's films expressed their interest in watching Alana surf more. "Post another video!" they cried. "Keep winning competitions!"

The feedback was overwhelming. Alana stumbled into her psychology class with her fingers numbly clutching her phone. When Mrs. Vargas announced Alana's presence to the whole class, it only deepened her embarrassment. She just wanted to take her seat and be treated like a normal student, not hailed as the surfer girl movie star who made the front page.

Fortunately, once class started, things dwindled down and the day resumed its familiarity. Alana could finally breathe a sigh of relief. The onslaught of attention was over, at least for now.

While first and second period gave Alana some much-needed elbow room, walking from class to class in between periods was a whole different story. She couldn't remember the last time so many people had known her name. And when did guys start paying attention to her? The smiles and words of encouragement that came from all directions were disorienting.

Alana escaped to her third period English class and made a beeline for her seat. A few students congratulated her on placing first and being in the newspaper, so she was forced to smile in acknowledgment. As soon as Maya walked in the door, Alana had never been happier to see her best friend's face.

"Hey, celebrity," Maya said, plopping down in the desk next to Alana's.

"Oh no, not you too."

"I'm just kidding." Maya reached back and tied her brown hair into a messy bun. "It can't be that bad, can it?"

Alana frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Okay, okay. Everyone's all excited because no student has ever accomplished as much as you have before," Maya said. "It's a small school, and out of nowhere comes this surfer chick who gets in a movie, lands the front page of the newspaper, and seals a sponsorship deal all in one stroke."

Alana just sighed. "It's getting to be annoying."

"What? The attention?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, I can see that. But you should enjoy the attention while you can. Before long all of this talk will die down."

"I hope so."

A few more students filed through the door, and moments later the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. Alana and Maya glanced up and smiled at Koa, the last straggler to enter the room. He took the last empty seat next to Alana. Upon making eye contact, he forced a smile and said, "Hey, Miss Popularity. So nice of you to stoop to our level and join English class."

Alana groaned. "I don't want to talk about it."

"She's just tired of all the attention," Maya clarified.

Koa nodded. "I can understand that. Maybe if Trevor did a separate video of Jake and I, like a longboarding feature or something, then the whole school would be talking about us instead of you."

"I wish that was the case," Alana said. They both turned to gauge Maya's reaction, but she had clammed up at the slightest mention of Jake.

Koa quickly opened his mouth to correct his blunder, but the teacher had stepped to the front of the room to take roll, and the class was forced to quiet down. That didn't stop Alana from sneaking glances at her friend, however. She knew something was up between Maya and Jake, and she wished Maya would talk.

The sound of backpacks unzipping, papers rustling, and pens clicking soon resounded throughout the room when the teacher moved on to grading their homework. Alana was tempted to write a note and pass it to Maya, but that seemed too shallow. For some reason—maybe in an attempt to get her mind off her sudden celebrity status—Alana was consumed with the desire to get to the bottom of her friend's problem.

She finally got the chance after third period. As soon as Koa zipped off to his next class, she pulled Maya aside to a quiet area of the quad, cornered between two palm trees.

"What's this about?" Maya asked curiously. "Trying to sneak away from your fan club?"

"No," Alana said, though she bit back a smile. "I know we're pressed for time, but I think this is something worth being late to fourth period for."

Maya furrowed her brow. "Are you sure...?"

"This is serious," Alana said solemnly.

"If you insist."

"Look," she began slowly, hitching her backpack higher up her shoulders, "I can't handle this awkwardness about Jake anymore."

As soon as the name slipped past her lips, Maya's composure became rigid, her face stoic.

"Don't shut down on me," Alana warned. "We've talked at school, hung out a few times after classes, and surfed together pretty much all weekend, yet you've never once told me what happened between you two. It's been two weeks, Maya. You think I wouldn't notice anything different? Or the rest of the gang, for that matter? We've been polite. We haven't pried into details. But it's finally getting to be too much. I can't stand you and Jake not talking to each other. And now..." She faltered for a second. "And now you're almost back to your normal, bubbly self. Without Jake. Are you seriously letting this blow over without trying to make amends first?"

The whole time Alana was talking, Maya stared at her with cold, unfeeling eyes. But then her demeanor gradually changed. She looked confused—guilty, even. "I'm sorry," she finally managed to say. "I knew it wouldn't take you guys long to figure it out. Couples fight, big deal. I never realized it would last this long."

"Have you even approached him about it?"

Maya shook her head.

"Girl! Hello, there's your problem." Alana almost laughed with disbelief. "I'm no romance counselor, but the first step to getting your relationship back on track is to communicate."

Maya paled. "But that's just it," she said. "We had a fight over communication—our lack of it, actually."

Alana frowned. "Oh."

"Yeah. I don't know where to go from here."

"Were you having a lot of disagreements before that?"

"No. We hardly ever disagreed. It was more like all of our problems suddenly came forward at the same time, and it boiled over into a fight."

Alana pursed her lips. "I don't understand why you guys haven't talked through your problems. Why are you hesitating?"

"We tried to talk through them at my house, but it just led to more and more complications. We were both keeping secrets and holding things back. And we never once talked about our future together—colleges and post-high school life, and things like that. It was a disaster."

"It sounds like a normal fight to me," Alana mused. "That's not a disaster."

Maya gave her an exasperated look.

"Okay, I'm going to put this bluntly," Alana warned. "If you aren't willing to end the silent treatment, then I can't help you."

"But I do want to end it," Maya protested.

"Then what's holding you back?"

She groaned. "I don't know! It's complicated."

Alana smiled and put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "It sounds like you and Jake are just being stubborn, and neither of you want to apologize first." Maya opened her mouth to protest, but Alana interrupted her. "Look, I know your personality—you're independent and self-motivated. Jake is a goofball, but he's independent, too. Neither of you is willing to surrender to the other."

Maya sighed loudly.

"Hey, you know I'm right," Alana added, her smile widening. "This is only going to get worse if you don't give in."

"I don't want to give in," she muttered.

"Then that's your decision."

Maya groaned and covered her face in her hands. "Okay, okay. I get what you're saying."

Alana withdrew her hand and folded her arms across her chest. "I think we better get going to fourth period. I don't want to be late."

Maya nodded, and the two began jogging towards their classes. They separated at the other end of the quad, and Alana called over her shoulder, "Don't forget what I said!"

"I won't!" she confirmed.

They promised they would meet at lunch, and then they disappeared from each other's view.

A few slivers of sunlight slanted through Cole's bedroom window, illuminating his rumpled bed sheets and school books strewn across his desk. His Bible lay open on the empty space of mattress in front of him, and he sat Indian-style before it, his eyes drinking in every word on the page. His alarm suddenly went off, so he broke his concentration for a moment to reach over and silence his phone. He'd been awake for nearly twenty minutes already, and despite the early hour, he felt no exhaustion. The open book in front of him held all his interest.

After finishing another page, he turned the thin leaf over and started on a new one. His eyes alighted on the first verse at the top left-hand corner: "For it is not an enemy who taunts me—then I could bear it; it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me—then I could hide from him. But it is you, a man, my equal, my companion, my familiar friend. We used to take sweet counsel together; within God's house we walked in the throng."

Cole's breath, which had been relaxed and even throughout his study, suddenly hitched and caught in his throat. He'd been reading through the Psalms for about a month, and every time he started on a new chapter, there would be one or two verses that stuck out at him. But each time he read something that touched him deeply, he had to stop and think. How was it that so many verses could be so applicable to his own life?

He let his eyes drift across the page, scanning the sentences to refresh his memory. It is you...my equal...my familiar friend. He remembered, with much pain and sorrow, how he used to uphold his relationship with Taylor above the gang. And where had that led him? Taylor was a terrible influence and turned her back on him as soon as he had walked away. He quietly thanked the Lord for the temporary truce between them—there had been no more run-ins with old friends since the fistfight with Logan.

Of course, Taylor had never been one to go to church, so Cole couldn't relate to the part about "walking in the throng" in God's house. But when he continued reading down to verse 20, he found another pertinent section: "My companion stretched out his hand against his friends; he violated his covenant. His speech was smooth as butter, yet war was in his heart; his words were softer than oil, yet they were drawn swords."

If only the Scriptures referred to "her" instead of "him," Cole thought wryly. He glanced over at his phone, noted the time, and decided he would finish the chapter before getting ready for school.

"Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved."

Cole gratefully closed his eyes and prayed a prayer of thanksgiving. He couldn't explain it, but the feeling rushing through him was one of peace and security. He was in the hands of the living God.

For so long he had battled in his mind what to do about Taylor, and now it was finally clear to him. Since there was a bit of a stalemate between them, Cole had the perfect opportunity to reach out and show kindness towards her. He had developed more self-control over the past months as a believer than he could have ever done by himself. God had worked a major transformation in his life, and he could work it in Taylor's, too. Cole realized he might be the person through which God wanted to reach her.

All of Cole's doubts and insecurities about approaching her were struck down. He didn't feel ready—not at all. Not by himself. But God's Word had affirmed that this was the right thing to do, and the peace that surrounded his heart confirmed it. Now all he had to do was wait for the right moment.

As he stepped off his bed and stretched like a cat, Cole let out an ear-splitting yawn. He dug around in his dresser for some clothes. It was funny, he thought, how it was so easy to judge someone else's relationship—namely Maya and Jake's—and yet not realize his own relationship with Taylor was in dire need of correction.

Cole suddenly understood the meaning of having a plank in one's eye.