Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
HUEY LEWIS & THE NEWS, “I WANT A NEW DRUG”
“My bed’s going to smell like you. Now, I’m never going to wash my sheets.”
I snapped my eyes open. My mouth was dry, and my thoughts were sluggish.
Matt stood a few feet away from his bed, arms crossed, lower lip trapped between his teeth. I sat up and yawned. My vision was back to normal, and the numbing buzz had disappeared.
“My dad gave me three minutes to check on you.” He looked at his silver watch with a black leather band. “I now have two minutes before he comes looking for me.”
“Where is everyone?” I asked, running my hands through my hair.
“In the backyard. Your parents said they’ll be leaving soon. What happened during dinner? You were acting weird.”
“If I tell you, can you promise to keep it a secret?”
“Of course.” Matt rubbed the back of his neck.
“After you went outside with our dads, Isaac poured the rest of your Coke into a glass and added alcohol from a flask.”
Matt shrugged. “So what? That can’t surprise you. He’s not exactly a rule-follower. And he’s twenty-four. My parents know he drinks and smokes, but they don’t say anything because they think he earned it after six years in the Army.”
“You didn’t let me finish. Eve wanted a drink, so he started to hand his to her. And I panicked and grabbed the glass, telling Eve it was mine. And then I gulped the whole thing down.”
Matt raised a single brow as if he doubted me.
“By dinner, I was buzzed and numb and couldn’t stop giggling.” I scrunched my nose.
“Your parents will totally forbid you from ever coming over here if they find out.”
“No duh.”
“How do you feel now?” he asked.
“My stomach isn’t great.” I pressed a flat hand to it. “I didn’t eat very much.”
“Come on.” He held out his hand. “Let’s get a snack.”
He pulled me to my feet and slid his hands around my waist. “Did you talk your dad into letting you go to prom this year?”
“Pfft. What do you think?”
“I think we should convince him to let you go. Maybe your mom could volunteer to chaperone?”
“And subject herself to sinful music? ”
“Even my mom thinks it’s unfair to keep you from experiencing a school dance,” Matt said.
I twisted my lips. “Hmm, maybe your mom should say something to my mom.”
Matt grinned. “Maybe.” He dipped his head and kissed me.
“Hey, kids.”
We jumped apart, turning toward Isaac like soldiers coming to attention. His broad shoulders and unmatched confidence engulfed the whole doorway.
“Matty, stop trying to pick the lock to Sarah’s chastity belt. Her parents are ready to go home.”
“Shut up.” Matt pushed him, but Isaac didn’t move until he was ready to step aside. He had too much size on his little brother. “I wasn’t picking the lock to her chastity belt. Come on, Sarah,” he said, jogging down the stairs without me.
“Are you sobered up?” Isaac gave me a slow once-over.
I adjusted my sweater. “Why do you think I have a chastity belt?”
“Where to begin …” He scratched his chin. “You’re wearing a cardigan. You’re Matty’s girlfriend. My parents think God sent you just for him. So, I don’t want to think of you as a dumb blonde, but you’re making it hard on me by asking that question.”
I planted my fists on my hips. “We’re all sinners. What makes you think I’m so innocent?”
I was innocent in action but impure in thought. Some of my favorite song lyrics were about sex, not God. Every day, I thought about sex. Whenever Matt kissed me, I imagined what it would feel like if he did more than just kiss me. Half of my friends had already had sex, and the other half had at least been felt up .
Not me.
Matt talked big, but that’s where it ended. I don’t know if it was Pastor Jacobson, his dad threatening Isaac’s life after he impregnated a minor, or just his morality, but Matt always talked me out of anything more than French kissing. And honestly, we barely made it into France. We were more like a rock in the Swiss Alps that rolled just over the border into the French Alps.
“Sunday Morning, no matter how high you tip your chin and puff out your tiny chest, your boots are still too big for your feet, not the other way around. So you’d better button up your cardigan and skitter out of here before I call your sad attempt at a bluff.”
I took two steps closer to Satan. “You know nothing about me.”
He gazed down at me, and his face was alight with amusement. “Have you cheated on my brother?”
I squinted. “Of course not.”
“Then your hymen is still intact. Now, run along.” He turned to the side and made a shooing motion with his hand.
A wave of heat surged up my neck and pulsed in my cheeks. I was equal parts angry and embarrassed. But I wasn’t angry at Isaac. I was angry at Matt for being too good.
Too cautious.
Too worried.
Too obedient.
We were eighteen: barely eighteen, but legal adults. In five weeks, we would have our diplomas.
Maybe that’s why he wanted me to convince my dad to let us go to prom. He was ready to take the next step.
“Just because I haven’t had an abortion doesn’t mean Matt and I haven’t done it. ”
Guys who didn’t wear ties to Easter Sunday Service and ate Cadbury Creme Eggs during prayer should not have been on my list of people to impress. Yet, there I stood, lying to Satan because heaven forbid I let him think the preacher’s oldest daughter was a virgin.
“ Done it ?” He wasted no time mocking me.
“Sarah, what are you doing? Are you coming?” Matt called up the stairs.
Isaac’s grin nearly cracked his face in half. “That’s a problem,” he whispered. “Your boyfriend doesn’t know if you’re coming.”
I swallowed hard.
Don’t react.
“If you did it ,” Isaac scratched his chin before leaning closer to me, “you didn’t do it right.”
I turned sideways to slide past him without making physical contact.
“Sorry,” I said to Matt as I lifted the skirt of my dress on my way down the stairs. “Isaac was asking me about Jesus and if I truly believe He loves sinners like your brother.”
Matt chuckled. “Did he really?”
At that point, what was one more lie?
“Uh-huh.” I lifted onto my toes and gave him a quick kiss. “Bye,” I said before skipping past him, slipping my feet into my white flats, and heading outside.
“Sarah, how’s your head?” Violet asked as she, my mom, and my sisters plucked the croquet hoops from the grass while my dad and Mr. Cory assembled the mallets and balls in the wooden storage stand.
“A lot better. Thanks,” I said, using my hand to block the sun from my eyes.
“Honey, Violet has a job opportunity for you.” Mom rested her arm over my shoulders as we walked toward the car.
“I thought you were fine with letting me pick my job since I’m an adult,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Just hear her out. I think you might like it better than working at Dixie’s.”
I shot Violet a fake smile when she approached me as my sisters piled into the back seat.
“Mary Lou Eddleton needs a hip replacement, so we don’t have anyone to manage the farm stand. How would you feel about doing it? We’d pay you more than you’ll make at Dixie’s.” Violet clasped her hands in front of her, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.
“Can you really pass up such a great offer?” Dad asked, opening the front passenger door for my mom.
The porch screen door creaked as Isaac and Matt stepped outside. Matt had changed out of his suit into cut-off sweatpants, a Devil’s Head baseball T-shirt, and a matching hat.
“Matthew, should Sarah manage the farm stand this summer?” my mom called in his direction.
Matt said, “Yes,” while Isaac said, “No.”
But nobody asked for Isaac’s opinion.
And I had no intention of saying yes until Isaac shared his unpopular opinion. He didn’t want me around the ranch all summer.
The “farm stand” sounded simplistic, but it was a fully enclosed shed just off the road at the end of the Corys’ long lane. It had windows, a bathroom in the corner, a register, a deep freezer with meat and raw dairy products, and shelves of farm goods: eggs, jams, honey, beeswax candles, and baked goods Violet made fresh every morning .
“It would be easier to make this decision if I weren’t so distracted by my disappointment over missing my senior prom.” I dropped my chin and folded my hands, twiddling my thumbs.
“Sarah,” Dad said with a stern tone.
“Honey, let’s talk about this at home,” Mom suggested.
Was it okay for her to use Matt to guilt me into saying yes, but not okay for me to use my form of persuasion?
“Gabby and Eve are in the car, so we’re all adults. Let’s talk about it now.” My buzz was gone, but there seemed to be some residual bravery dictating my words. “If you all raised us so well, then where is your trust in us, in yourselves, and in God that we can handle a school dance? Newsflash: we drive cars with radios. Don’t you think we’ve heard all the sinful songs? And the dance will be chaperoned. No one’s going to get pregnant on the dance floor. And I’m sure I still have a curfew despite being eighteen.” I stopped short of rolling my eyes, but I wanted to.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Our gazes shifted to the porch steps where Isaac sat, slowly clapping.
“Bravo. I think Sarah should go to law school instead of Matty. That was a brilliant case she made.”
“Shut up.” Matt smacked Isaac on the back of the head, and Isaac snickered.
“What if Mom volunteers to chaperone?” I added.
Mom squinted at me, but I kept a pleasant, unaffected smile.
“Janet,” my dad said her name in a rare moment of deferring a decision to her .
“I’ll volunteer too,” Violet added.
I bit back my grin, and so did Matt.
“Okay,” Mom murmured with a nervous smile.
“Okay,” I said. “Since that’s decided, I think I’ll accept the job at the farm stand.”
Everyone seemed happy with the state of affairs—except Satan.