Even during our slightly awkward stages—when we’d both been gangly and she had braces and I had acne—I had a huge crush on her.
Who wouldn’t when she was smart, fun, kind, driven, and gorgeous.
Other girls could be great, but they weren’t Scarlett. It was her as far as I was concerned.
It had always been her. And if we could just overcome the obstacles keeping us apart, it couldalwaysbe her.
So if it came down to it…if I had to choose between staying true to myself and living the way I thought was right for me versus sacrificing my freedom and some of my integrity in order to have the possibility of spending the rest of my life with her, could I do it?
Could I go back to being a good sheep? Could I remain silent and forget what I knew?
Could I do the mental gymnastics needed to get myself back into belief in The Fold… if it meant being with her?
I didn’t know.
But it was something I needed to figure out before it was too late.
Either way I would be a little tortured. And wouldn’t it be better to pretend to believe in a a church I didn’t trust but still have the girl I loved by my side?
Surely that was a better choice than living a lifetime without her…
We drove out of the tunnel, and Scarlett turned to face forward like she’d been before we’d entered the tunnel.
We arrived at the rappelling area a few minutes later. As Scarlett climbed off my lap and out of the side-by-side, she said, “That was interesting.”
And all I could do was swallow hard and say, “Yes it was.”
32
SCARLETT
Xander:Your dad told me that you’re coming home next weekend. I’ll also be in town. It would be cool to see you.
Does Xander, like, talk to my dad every day?I wondered as I read over Xander’s text that came through during my Adult Roles class on Tuesday afternoon.
We were giving oral reports this week and Nash was currently standing at the podium, telling us all about the purpose of dating. I didn’t have to present until next class period, so I got to just sit back and relax today.
“You and Xander still text a lot then?” Hunter asked in a low voice beside me, his gaze darting toward my phone which I was holding in between us to keep it from our teacher’s view.
“Only when he texts me first.” I sighed. “Which usually happens when he hears from my dad that I’ll be coming home or need a tour guide.”
“Sounds like he’s into younger girls,” Hunter said with a wink.
“Or he just has really great taste.” I smirked, happy that instead of turning this into a jealous thing, Hunter was able to joke about it with me.
“Only the best for the billionaires of the world, I guess,” Hunter said.
“You know it.”
He looked like he wanted to say more. Maybe something about how he had similar taste since we’d obviously had our own chemistry—yesterday’s rappelling adventure was proof of it. But he stopped himself and turned his attention back to Nash instead.
But I really didn’t want Hunter to worry that there was something going on, so I texted Xander right back with:I’ll be in town so I’m sure we’ll see each other at church again.
Sure, he was probably implying we hang out on Saturday or something, but even though I’d enjoyed the tour he’d given me at Yale last weekend, I just wasn’t interested in making this into more than it was.
I mean, it was flattering that someone like Xander was interested enough to keep texting me. But I was still in high school and not quite ready for the kind of commitment that I sensed Xander was looking for—especially when I was back to wondering if I could find a way to make things work with Hunter…
“Thank you, Mr. Hastings,” Mrs. Johnson’s voice interrupted my thoughts after Nash finished his report. “That was very insightful.” She looked down at the paper with her list of students doing reports today. Then looking toward my table, she said, “Mr. Blackwell, you’re up next.”
