Nolan may not have regretted bringing a pillow when he went to sleep, but he certainly regretted it when he woke up.

As he, Erin, and Willow shuffled from the sanctuary, to the event room, he shifted his neck from side to side, and, when that did little to ease the tension, he rubbed at the knots. That didn't do much to help him either.

Willow shoved open the door with her entire body. "I'm too lazy to use my arms," she mumbled.

The atmosphere had sobered since the night before. Only a couple handfuls of teens remained scattered around the room, chatting softly or playing games. He found Nora at the serving table, ordering a line of cereal boxes. She turned as they approached. "Hey!" she said. "The sleepyheads are awake, I see."

"Define awake," Willow said with a yawn. "Food. I need food."

Nolan's eyebrows creased. Were Nora's cheeks flushed?

"Help yourself," Ryan said, appearing with a fruit platter in hand. "We're just about finished setting up now."

The table was filled with an assortment of breakfasts: pancakes, cereal, bagels, muffins, toast, eggs, omelets, bacon, sausage, fruit... He glanced at the cereals, noting the options, before studying Nora from the corner of his eye. Her cheeks were definitely flushed.

Willow and Erin made a dash for the table, and, as though summoned, the rest of the room swarmed around them.

"Remember to leave some for everyone who's still sleeping!" Ryan called over the chatter.

"You snooze, you lose!" Andy yelled. He'd made it to the table and nabbed a paper plate. Ryan chuckled.

Nolan reached out as Nora started toward the cluster, wrapping his fingers gently around her wrist. She turned, eyebrows creased.

"You've been crying," he said.

Her eyes widened. "I'm okay," she said.

He searched her face. "What happened?"

The clatter of serving spoons and the cacophony of piling conversations pierced the air. She bit her lip and glanced toward their friends. "I had a nightmare," she said. "It was about my mom, so it affected me more, you know? But I'm okay. Promise."

He raked her face again. Was she? He couldn't tell, but he nodded and let go of her wrist.

They joined the rest of their friends and found a table. As they chatted, he kept an eye on Nora, sure there was something she wasn't saying. Thankfully, as the meal continued, the tension seemed to leave her.

After breakfast, Ryan announced it was time for the morning sermon and ushered them all into the sanctuary. Nolan settled between Nora and Andy and wondered what to expect. Ryan's sermons had proven to be relatively short, half the length of Nathan's typical thirty minutes. But, after that, everything was up in the air. Did the sleepover just end? Or did they hang out some more until they felt like leaving?

"Yo," Willow said, elbowing Nathan. "What's the sermon going to be about?"

"And spoil the surprise? I'd never."

"You are a useless inside connection."

"You're so hurtful. I should send you back to England."

Nora yanked a laughing Willow into her arms. "You take her to England, you're gonna have to pay for two plane tickets."

"First class," Willow added.

"I can swing it."

"Alright, you heathens," Ryan said, stepping onto the stage. He held the microphone lazily in his hand. "Calm yourselves."

Slowly, the room quieted. Nathan wriggled his eyebrows, and Willow elbowed him again.

"So, this morning we're going to talk about a popular topic in our church community," he said. "Anyone want to gander a guess?"

"Jesus' death!"

"Nope. Anyone else?"

"Faith!"

"Nope."

"Love!"

"Related, but no."

By the time three more guesses were shouted, Ryan looked bored. Beside him, Nora grinned. Nolan wondered what they would actually be talking about. Besides the obvious—which had already been stated, some more than once—he didn't really have much of an idea.

"Okay, you guys suck at guessing games," Ryan said, and the crowd laughed. "Forgiveness, guys. We're talking about forgiveness."

A chorus of "Ohhhh!" traveled through the sanctuary. Nolan straightened.

"Who here has ever been hurt by someone?"

Almost everyone's hands shot into the air, his included. Nora's arm brushed his as she slowly raised her hand into the air.

"Okay. Lower your hands."

Hands returned to people's sides.

"Now, who here has ever hurt someone else?"

Hesitant now, the hands returned to the air. Nolan forced his upward. Chris.

Shock flitted through him as Nora raised her hand as high as it would go. Though it would have been odd for her to have never hurt someone in her entire lifetime, he just couldn't picture it.

"Honesty, I like it." Ryan paced across the stage, making eye contact with each pew. "So, my dad is one of the best people I have ever known. I've been aware of this fact for the majority of my life."

Nora leaned forward.

"Now, my dad is an affectionate guy. A lot of you know that firsthand." Nods of agreement. Nolan couldn't, as he'd never met the guy, but Nora and the others nodded, too.

"He always wants a hug goodbye, and he wants you to know he loves you," Ryan continued. "It's great. But, when I was in high school, I went through this phase where I found it excruciatingly embarrassing. I was afraid that the cool kids of the school—you know, the guy version of the Six Chicks—would see me hugging my dad goodbye, and I'd be forever marked as a Daddy's Boy. As though that's the worst thing in the world, right?"

A few laughs scattered the room. A pang shot through Nolan. He should have hugged his dad goodbye.

"One morning, my dad dropped me off for school, and I noticed one of the cool kids standing right by my dad's car. I said a quick goodbye and hopped out. I hadn't taken two steps when my dad got out of the car and called me back. 'Ryan!' I can still hear him saying. 'Where's my hug goodbye?'

"My dad rounded the car to get his hug. I could see the cool kid snickering at me, could feel the rest of the kids staring. And so, when my dad started wrapping his arms around me, I shoved him away."

Silence.

"I can still see the stricken look on his face. It was as though I'd shot him."

Nolan tensed. His mom's eyes.

"And, for the longest time, whenever I thought of that moment, I was filled with shame. I was angry with myself for being cruel to the man who loves me more than really anything else."

Nora shifted, and he found her toying with her cross necklace, her eyes distant, troubled. His eyebrows creased.

"Now, we always preach about forgiving those who hurt us," Ryan said, tugging his phone out of his pocket. "And we should." Reading from his electronic Bible, he continued, "As Colossians 3:13 tells us, 'Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.' We need to approach one another with kindness in our hearts, right? That means when someone hurts us, we need to let our anger go. Not hold onto it, letting it fester like an infection. We have to let it go, and choose to love instead. Because that's what He did."

He pointed to the cross.

"Let me give you guys an example, because we all love examples." Cue the soft laughter. "Maybe your friend says something that upsets you. You get angry, you argue. You both say some hurtful things. But then you and your friend forgive each other. You move on. And as the negative emotions you held toward your friend go away, you feel a weight lift from your chest. It's freeing, right?

"Now, it isn't always so easy. I get that. And maybe it takes a little time—or maybe a lot. But you try, right?"

He paused, letting everyone take in his words. Nolan frowned. "A relationship with God is just like a relationship with anyone you love." But how was he supposed to forgive, when the weight on his shoulders was the lives of his parents? If he forgave, what did that mean? That he was okay with God letting his parents die?

"But, there's another side to forgiveness. You're not just supposed to forgive those who hurt you. You're also supposed to forgive yourself."

Nora shifted again. Her eyes had moved to the ceiling.

"'Love your neighbor as yourself,'" Ryan quoted. "'As yourself.' Now, let's look into this for a second. I know, you're probably thinking, 'Ryan, we quote this all the time. We get it—it's the Golden Rule. Can we move on?' Give me a chance here."

Nolan's lips twitched.

"Okay. Let's concentrate on the word love. Now, as all of you fans of A Walk to Remember probably know, the Bible has a handy dandy definition of love." He paused, scrolling. "Corinthians 13:4-5. 'Love is patient, love is kind,'" he read. "'It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.'" He looked up. "'It keeps no record of wrongs.' You guys know what that is?"

"Forgiveness!" Emma shouted.

"Why, yes, Emma!" Ryan gave her a heavy-handed thumbs up. Nolan snorted, and Nora laughed.

"Forgiveness," he said. "Love is, among other things, forgiveness. Now, let's go back to the quote about loving our neighbors. According to our definition, to love them is to forgive them, right?" Some nods, mostly silence. "Right. Okay, so, it's like math. I know, we give math a lot of crap, but seriously. If loving our neighbors is equal to loving ourselves, and forgiveness is a key part of that love, then shouldn't we, in turn, be required to forgive ourselves?"

Nolan blinked.

"Holy shit," Andy breathed.

"Swear jar," Willow whispered.

"Let's go back to that example," he said. "You and your friend both said some pretty hurtful things. Even after the argument is over, and you've forgiven your friend, you can't get the mean things you said out of your mind.

"This guilt, shame, and anger we hold toward ourselves is the equivalent to the guilt, shame, and anger we place on others," Ryan continued. "Same emotions, same negative weight on our shoulders. And it's human to feel these things. We all go through it. We get mad at others. We do stupid things, and we get mad at ourselves. But, somehow, we forget that forgiving ourselves is just as important as forgiving others."

His words hit Nolan harder than he would have expected. All this time, he was so busy being angry at God and the world, he'd forgotten just how angry he was at himself. For not looking up from his camera. For not saying I love you. For cutting everyone out of his life without saying goodbye.

"It took a long time for me to forgive myself for that day in front of my school," Ryan said. "And, sometimes, the guilt still rears its ugly head. But I know my dad accepted my apology, that he understands I was a teenager feeling the pressure of my peers. God accepted my apology. I know they still love me. And I know that the Ryan who shoved his dad away was a kid who had a lot to learn. Who didn't understand how hurtful the action would be until he did it. And, because of that action, I'm a lot more thoughtful and considerate today. And so, eventually, I let the guilt, the anger, go."

A kid who had a lot to learn.

A lot more thoughtful and considerate.

"Some of you are holding onto things in your life," Ryan continued. "More likely, we all are. Maybe you're feeling hurt by someone right now, or maybe you're feeling guilty. But, no matter what has its grip on you, you need to let it go. Free yourself from the anger, the guilt, the shame. God forgave you. He continues to forgive you every day. He loves you. And He wants you to do the same for yourself."