I spit out a mouth of Diet Coke and spray the table, sending us both into fits of giggles.
While Mom clears the dishes, I pull out my phone — while I still have the courage.
“Mom,” I shout toward the kitchen. “Is it all right if I go over and talk to him?”
“I thought that was the whole point.” Mom laughs.
Noah answers on the first ring. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I feel like Queen Esther afraid to tell the king how she’s going to be exiled by his right-hand man, Haman.
Dear God, I need You. Please give me the strength You gave Esther. I know this isn’t nearly as important. I’m not saving the Jewish nation, but I do want to save myself.
That’s plenty important, I feel God respond.
“Linds? You there?” Noah’s thick voice probes.
I know I need to do this. I feel God’s strength pulse through my veins. “Yeah, sorry about that, anyway, I was wondering if I could come over? I need to see you.”
“I need to see you, too. I haven’t been able to kiss those sweet lips of yours in forever.”
“Hmmm.” I feel his warm lips on mine. Not now, girl, I tell myself. “Kissing’s nice, but I kind of want to talk, too.”
“Talking’s okay.” I can hear Noah’s smile. “Sure, come on over. We’re just finishing up dinner.”
“Us, too. Give me a few minutes to help Mom clean up, and I’ll walk over.”
“Why don’t I start walking too, so I can meet you partway and keep you safe in that wild neighborhood of ours?”
“Thanks. See you in about ten minutes?”
“Can’t wait. Plus I can kiss you on the street before we even get back to my house. That way I get my kissing in.”
“Devilish, aren’t you?” I laugh.
“Somewhat.” He snickers.
I snap my phone closed and wander back into the kitchen. I plop the rest of the green beans in a plastic tub and seal the lid. “He’s home, Mom. So, I guess I’m goin’ over.”
Mom places her hand on my shoulder. “Lindsey, honey, you’re doing the right thing.” She takes the green beans from me and pops them in the fridge. “I’ll be in the family room preparing for some of my sessions for tomorrow if you want to chat when you get home.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I hug her. She hugs back. Mom’s always been a good hugger. I wash out our glasses and bound upstairs. I forgot I was so disgusting. At a minimum I need a one-minute shower to wash off the grime.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I see his silhouette before I hear his footsteps. Even though he’s just a shadow, my mind fills in all the details from the rough edges on his fingernails to the way his left eyebrow is slightly higher than his right.
“I was beginning to worry about you.” Noah’s voice breaks the silence of suburban twilight.
“Sorry. I forgot I was completely disgusting and had to rinse off.”
“You didn’t have to primp for me.” We’re close enough now that he reaches out and grabs my hand. Under the streetlight he pulls me close and kisses me, like in the movies. I memorize the moment, knowing it might be our last embrace. I taste his mintyness and measure the pressure of his hands squeezing mine.
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi.” I bite my lower lip.
We start walking in the direction of his house, our hands still interlocked.
“So, what’s up?” Noah asks.
“A lot, actually.” I suck my lips in, smear my lip gloss evenly, and stop. “Remember that day in the cafeteria when I started babbling about chastity rings and all that?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I was so blown away, so completely overwhelmed when you told me you wanted to marry me. I mean, I love you so much, Noah, and I never knew I could feel this way about anybody, but I got so carried away that I never finished.”
His deep green eyes search my face for a clue to where this is going. “I love you too. That’s the whole point, Linds.”
“Right, well, that’s part of the point.” The words tumble from my mouth. I have to keep going so I don’t lose my train of thought like last time. “The other part is, well, I love God, too, and He doesn’t want us to be sleeping together . . . not yet. Not until we’re married.”
Noah smiles. “We talked about this, Linds. I’m going to marry you. It’s not like I’m with you for the sex. I’m with you because I love you.”
I smile and look down, because if what he says is true, then everything is going to be okay. Dear God, I want this all to be true, but I know it’s in Your hands now.
So keep going.
A car drives past. I can’t breathe. I fear the driver can hear our conversation, can know what I’ve done. Its headlights illuminate Noah’s face like the flash of a camera. He is so gorgeous, but I can’t get swept away again. So, I take God’s advice. I keep going.
I sigh. “See, if it’s truly not about the sex, then we don’t need it, right? God doesn’t want us to be that intense yet. I think it’s like when I was little and my parents wouldn’t let me watch PG movies until I was eleven, and I couldn’t understand because I felt like all my friends and everyone else in the world was watching them.” I cock my head. I don’t know if any of this is making sense to Noah, but it’s all becoming so clear to me. With each word it becomes clearer and clearer.
“But then, when I saw that movie Narnia, I bawled when all those evil creatures tied up Aslan, you know, the lion, and killed him. I had nightmares about those witches and ogres for weeks. Then, I got it. I could barely handle that PG movie at eleven, let alone when I was younger. I think sex is like that.” I nod at my own explanation. “I know that it seems like everyone else is doing it. And I couldn’t understand why it’s not okay for us, since I know we have so much more, but it’s just not. Not now.” I shuffle my shoe on the ground. “What is it the Bible says in First Corinthians 13? ‘Now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face’?4 We’re not mature enough yet.” I shift feet.
Noah coughs.
Aaaargh! What is he thinking? He hasn’t said anything. I don’t want Noah to think I’m saying he’s immature. “I mean you’re amazingly mature and smart and sensitive, but even though our bodies might be ready for sex — it felt great and everything — I don’t think God made our emotions ready for sex until we’re married.” I take a deep gulp of air and look into Noah’s beautiful eyes, finally certain of where I stand — even if I don’t have a clue where Noah and I stand. “At least I know my emotions aren’t ready.”
“I love you, Lindsey.” It’s dark, and I can’t read the expression on his face. He pulls me to his strong form and holds me.
“I love you too, but I love God even more.” There, I’ve said it. I’ve said it all.
I don’t know what will happen next. I want Noah to still be my boyfriend but in a sexually pure kind of way. He might not be able to have that kind of relationship. Or, he might not want one. Or, he might just be done, be saying good-bye. But, no matter what the outcome, I feel better than I have in weeks — better than when Noah told me he loved me on Valentine’s, better than when he said he wanted to marry me. All that time I was still carrying around the guilt and uncertainty about what we had done. Now, my heart is clean again. At least it’s pure. And I trust with all my soul that God will be here to hold me tomorrow, even if Noah can’t.
__________________________
4. Verse 12, NKJV.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I believe in God. I believe in true love. I believe in fairies. I believe if I bang hard enough on the back of my wardrobe I’ll get to Narnia someday. I believe eating chocolate is good for you. I believe part of my soul lives in France, part at the beach, and the other part here in Oxford, Ohio, because when I go to those places I feel at home, as if I’ve always belonged. I believe heaven will feel much the same. I believe God created me to be the wife of my husband, the mother of my four children, and to write the stories He wanted to tell. Visit Laura L. Smith’
s website at www .lauralsmith.net.
Laura L. Smith
Chapter One
Melissa posed as perfectly as a marble statue. Her head was bent at a forty-five degree angle, her fingers were spread equidistantly, rigid, and exactly in line with her thighs. The music pulsed in her veins. She inhaled and silently counted along with Todd.
“Five, six, seven, eight.” Even though he was only five foot five, Todd had a booming voice that commanded the attention of every girl in the room. The rhythm of the music vibrated from the speakers on the church’s glossy gymnasium floor.
Like a marionette brought to life by invisible strings, Melissa jerked her hands up, forming a V with her arms, snapped her head upright, and flashed a radiant smile.
“And turn, six, seven, eight. Lift and lift and slide and slide,” Todd continued like a metronome. The pulsating beat pulled Melissa’s body back and forth.
Abruptly, Todd’s solid muscular body relaxed. The coach turned his back to the group of girls and padded across the wooden floor to turn off the CD. Since dance team was somewhere low on the priority list of varsity sports at Spring Hill High, they were allotted zero gymnasium time for practices. The school’s gym was designated for the football players, the basketball players, the track team, and the softball team, but not the dance team. Luckily, the church Melissa’s family attended allowed the girls to practice in their gym.
“Okay, any questions? No? Good. Then let’s continue.” Todd’s dark skin shone with perspiration as he flawlessly demonstrated the next sequence. Tiny yellow beads woven into the ends of his cornrows bounced lightly against his strong bare shoulders, bulging from his gray tank top. His compact body moved effortlessly across the floor while his chocolate eyes kept constant contact with the team.
Melissa replayed his every move in her head, trying to make his motions and words translate into her body’s executing the dance correctly.
Feet pounded the floor. Arms stretched to the ceiling. Hips swayed.
Melissa turned to the left.
Everyone else turned to the right.
Melissa missed bumping into Jill by a fraction of an inch. Jill was a junior who could kick higher than the rest of the team and had an attitude to match. Jill’s flawless pale skin and sleek black hair were reminiscent of Snow White, but Jill certainly didn’t act like a fairy-tale princess. Jill shot Melissa a glare from her bright green eyes that could have come from an evil stepmother.
Flames of shame pinched Melissa’s nose and ears. She caught her breath and stumbled to get back in step. How many of the others had seen her mess up? The other girls looked so pretty, so thin, so together. Melissa felt large and conspicuous, like an elephant stomping across the gym. Feel the music, she told herself.
“Okay. That’s all for today,” Todd said between gulps of bottled water. “Not bad, but we have a lot to learn, ladies. We perform in two days.” Todd wiped drops of water from his manicured mustache.
“Oh, and, girls, no cake between now and Friday. You want to look spectacular in your uniforms.” He winked.
Sweat slid down Melissa’s forehead and stung her eyes. She tried to shrink inside her T-shirt. She darted for her dance bag, grabbed it, and walked as fast as she could until she was safe behind the girls’ room door. Protected by the wooden barrier, she pulled on her sweatshirt and yoga pants and exhaled.
Finally her cumbersome body, the one that had turned the wrong way, the one Todd was clearly making the cake comment about, was covered. Tears threatened to escape from her eyes. Melissa waved her hand in front of her face in an attempt to fan her embarrassment and anger away. She peered into the full-length mirror and groaned at her reflection.
Melissa slid into a stall and shut the door. She’d read in magazines about girls who threw up to lose weight. Melissa had thought about doing it before but never had the guts. How exactly should she do it? How would she position her body?
Melissa knelt in front of the white toilet. Thankfully, her yoga pants provided a thin barrier between her knees and the germs and sludge on the once-white tiled floor. The stench of urine almost made her gag. She wouldn’t need to do much. Looking down at her hand, Melissa stuck out her index and middle fingers, ready to plunge them down her throat. Those two fingers could empty her of this feeling.
Squeak! The bathroom door swung open.
“Mel, is that you?” Lindsey asked.
“Uh-huh.” Melissa’s face was blasted with heat like when she opened the oven door. She tried to stand and turn as silently as possible, then swung open the door.
“Do you think there’s any way I’ll get this routine down by Friday night?” Lindsey rolled her eyes and smiled. The girls had met only about three months ago when they both made the Spring Hill High dance team. They had gone to different grade schools but had bonded immediately. They were inseparable at practice.
Lindsey was Melissa’s physical opposite: five one and so tiny she could still buy her clothes from the kids’ department. Her blonde curls framed her pretty face and her pale blue eyes, which sparkled when she spoke. She looked like one of Melissa’s dolls she had dressed and fed when she was younger.
Melissa was five nine. She usually wore her straight dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail revealing her round face, forest green eyes, and the freckles that spotted her nose. Friends told her she was slender, but she described herself as “medium-sized.”
“You’ll get it, Linds. You’re basically awesome.”
“Hardly. I’m lucky to have even made this team.” Lindsey pushed open the restroom door with her back.
“Right,” Melissa began. “I was the one who almost fell flat on my face. Todd moves so fast.”
Just then, Jill sauntered through the door as if Lindsey were opening it for her.
“Nice turns.” She nodded toward Melissa.
“Nice makeup,” Lindsey whispered when they were out of earshot in the hallway, commenting on Jill’s overdone face. Lindsey looked around to make sure no one was listening, then gave Melissa a silent high five and whispered, “I don’t care what Jill thinks. We rock.”
Melissa tried to imitate Lindsey’s confidence, but she was still humiliated by her misstep, and her hands shook from almost being caught in the bathroom. Rock was not a word to describe her, unless, of course, it was the round, heavy kind.
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