Purity
Page 17
My mom was taken from me. But then, six years later, I ended up with a father I didn’t have before.
3 hours after
Despite the fact that we are no longer actually participating in the Princess Ball, Dad insists on staying to help clean up. We watch the rest of the ball from the closed-circuit television, eating snacks stolen from the church kitchen. The waltz is the best part—the sparkly white dresses of almost a hundred girls poof out as they whirl around in their fathers’ arms. Dad and I imagine them doing “Thriller” instead and laugh together, though I am kind of mad I spent two days learning to waltz only to miss the damn thing. By the time we get home, it’s just after midnight.
Lucinda is parked at the end of our driveway. I look to the door and see Jonas leaning against it, a tired expression on his face.
For the first time, my heart gets that fluttery feeling you read about in books, and I smile a little.
When Jonas realizes it’s our car pulling up, he rises. His eyes meet mine through the windshield, a long, silent conversation. He twirls a single yellow rose between his fingers.
“Jonas!” Dad says, waving as we step out of the car. “Good to see you again.” He walks forward and grabs Jonas’s hand in a firm shake.
“You, too, Mr. Crewe.” Jonas’s eyes dart from Dad back to me. Dad turns to look at me, and I give a small smile. It gets the message across.
“Well, then, I’m gonna go inside…. I think Deadliest Catch is on again. Marathon, you know,” Dad says, jamming his key in the front door, then hurrying through it. I hear the TV turn on and the volume goes way up, louder than normal.
“Hey,” Jonas says in a fake casual voice. “I… this is dumb, but you didn’t call me after the thing with Jeffery, and then I heard from Ruby you’d gone through with it, and I just… are you okay?”
I smile. “I’m fine. Really.”
“So… okay… was it… how was…”
“It was nothing, really,” I say. “I thought about Mom, actually. And, well… you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah…” I inhale. Silence filters around us.
“I also kind of came to apologize for the stuff I said,” Jonas says. “I don’t know what I was talking about. I just was irritated and stuff, the whole LOVIN thing….”
“You didn’t mean any of it?” I ask, leaning against the front door.
Jonas looks at the rose in his hand. “I didn’t mean to yell,” he says. “And I should have told you about Anna—”
“I didn’t mean to have sex with Jeffery,” I interrupt. “I mean, I did, but…”
Jonas nods, looking relieved. I relax, so does he. “So,” he continues after a deep breath, “you look like a lovely virgin princess. How were the vows?”
“Didn’t go through with them. Actually, I delivered a kick-ass speech and walked out.”
“How’d your dad take that?”
“Well,” I say, smiling.
We stand in silence for a moment, a nervousness I’ve never experienced before around Jonas. There’s so much I want to say, and so much I’m afraid to say.
“So… is that flower for me, in honor of my recent ball attendance?” I nod toward the rose in his hand.
“Um… no, actually,” he says, and a grin spreads across his face.
“Oh?”
Jonas meets my eyes, face a little sheepish. “It’s for your mom. You know, so you can officially cross it off your list.”
I pause, nod slowly. “Hang on just a second.” Before Jonas can answer, I dash inside the house and up to my bedroom. The list is there, in my jewelry box. I could keep it. I could do it alone—I’ve done it alone. But why would I want to?
Jonas gives me a curious look when I step back out onto the porch. I hold the list out gingerly. Jonas looks down, smiles a little, takes it from my fingers, and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. He puts the list back in the billfold, in the same spot it’s always been, then looks back up at me.
I want to say something—I mean to say something, but I can’t find the words. I don’t need them, though. Jonas extends a hand, and I fold my fingers into his. We walk to the car, my dress rustling along through the grass, and for a tiny, glimmering, beautiful moment, I forget about purity, I forget about promises, and I forget about faith.
All I can think about is love.
Acknowledgments
I got the idea for Purity while driving down a rural Georgia road. At the time, I thought it’d be a light, fluffy, funny story about a girl losing her virginity. Then came the first draft, and the story that seemed simple became a much more introspective, philosophical tale than I’d anticipated, and required more soul-searching than anything else I’ve written. I couldn’t have possibly made it through without the help of a large handful of supporters. Enormous thanks is owed to:
Sarah Ockler, Lauren Barnholdt, Heidi Kling, and Saundra Mitchell for reading early drafts of Purity and telling me to dig deeper, go farther, and be fearless. Carrie Ryan, Maggie Stiefvater, and the Debs community for lending an ear whenever I got stuck.
Kristen Stanaland and LuAnn Stanaland for inspiring the relationship between Shelby and her mother. R.J. Anderson for candid discussions about religion and spirituality without judgment or agenda. Jim McCarthy for loving this story as much as I did and for talking me off cliffs in moments of blind freak-out panic.
My mom and Grandma Jackson for inspiring the french fries scene (and half of this book); Papa for teaching me how to let go; Grandma and Granddaddy Pearce for making me believe in true and lasting love; my sister for being as weird as I am (and being okay with it).
And, of course, my dad for fixing everything that’s ever been broken, from my refrigerator to my confidence.
Contents
Welcome
Dedication
5 years, 352 days before
35 days before
34 days before
33 days before
32 days before
28 days before
24 days before
23 days before
22 days before
20 days before
15 days before
14 days before
13 days before
12 days before
9 days before
7 days before
4 days before
1 day before
The day of
The ball
3 hours after
Acknowledgments
Copyright
Copyright
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. To the extent any real names of individuals, locations, or organizations are included in the book, they are used fictitiously and not intended to be taken otherwise.
Copyright © 2012 by Jackson Pearce
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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ISBN 978-0-316-20198-8