Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
MADONNA, “LIKE A VIRGIN”
“Totally awesome!” Heather squealed as soon as I told her about prom.
I held the phone to my ear while doing sit-ups on my bedroom floor. “We have to go shopping next weekend for a dress. I bet there’s nothing left since everyone else has picked the good ones. And don’t you have weights? I need to do some butterflies to make my chest bigger.”
Heather laughed. “Why do you need a bigger chest?”
“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone, and I mean anyone. Not even Joanna.”
“I swear. Now, tell me.”
I stopped exercising and untangled the phone cord from around my waist. “Earlier, when we were eating Easter dinner at Matt’s house—oh my gosh, Heather, so much happened. I don’t know where to start. First, Isaac still smokes.”
“Well, duh. He’s twenty-four, and he was in the Army. Of course, he still smokes.”
I deflated at my naivety. “Also, he poured some sort of booze from a flask into his glass of Coke, and he offered it to Eve, so I freaked out and took it from him, guzzling it down all at once.”
“Oh my gosh, are you totally being serious?”
“Yes.” I proceeded to tell her everything, and when I finished, the line was silent. “Heather?”
“Isaac thinks you and Matt have had sex?”
I twirled the phone cord like a jump rope, every nerve in my body rapidly firing. “I don’t know if he believed me, but yeah, he might.”
“What did Matt say when you told him?”
I cringed. “I haven’t told him yet.”
“Sarah! What if Isaac says something to Matt? You’ll look like a liar to both of them. You have to tell Matt.”
“I can’t tell Matt; he’ll be mad that I was lying to his brother.”
“Why did you lie to Isaac?”
I sighed, falling onto my back again. “Because Isaac is older and more experienced. And I’m eighteen, but I have the least experience of everyone. And it’s embarrassing.”
“Your dad’s the preacher at the only church in Devil’s Head. You know that even if you weren’t a virgin, everyone would assume you were.”
“What’s it like?” I wrapped the cord around my finger.
“What’s what like?”
“You know.”
Heather laughed. “I’ve told you this so many times. It was fine. Weird. But good. I feel like Travis came quickly, but what do I know?”
“Was it wet?” I asked with an unavoidable grin.
“The condom?”
“Was it wet before the condom?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to touch it.”
I giggled.
“Why are you asking me about this again?”
“Because I need real-life details in case Isaac brings it up again this summer.”
“This summer?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Yeah. I agreed to manage the Corys’ farm stand, and Isaac is working on the ranch, so I’m sure I’ll see him a lot.”
That should not have made me feel so giddy, but it did because Isaac had a guitar in his room, and he’d been in a band. The only thing I felt truly passionate about was music. I wanted to play a guitar and sing songs—I wanted to sing my songs. I had pages of lyrics in a notebook. And when I really let myself dream big, I imagined crowds of adoring fans singing those lyrics back to me.
“Sarah,” Heather said my name slowly. “You’re going steady with Matt. Everyone knows you’ll get married. Why are you planning sex talks with his brother? And why would he ask you if Matt’s thingy was wet?” She laughed.
The line clicked.
“Sarah, I need to call Erin,” Eve said, having picked up one of the other receivers in the house.
“Give me a minute,” I said.
“Fine,” Eve replied.
I waited for another click.
“Eve, I know you’re still on the line. Hang up. ”
Click.
Heather laughed. “She’s probably still listening. I bet she just muted the phone. Eve? Are you listening? Sarah wants to know how wet a guy’s thingy is during sex.”
“Stop!” I giggled. “We don’t have any phones with mute buttons. She’s not on the line. I heard the click. And I never said I wanted to marry Matt. We’re eighteen. It’s a little early to make the assumption.”
“Tell that to your parents and his.”
I groaned. “I know. Mr. Cory has been really generous to our family.”
“ Because he thinks you’re his future daughter-in-law.”
“That’s the problem. We can’t break up because my family is too indebted to his.” I sighed. “Our families are practically married. If we break up, it will affect everyone. But I’m not ready to get married. What if we’ve been together for the wrong reasons? We have forty-two people in our graduating class. What if we’re together for lack of a better choice or because our families have known each other forever and decided it’s in their best interest?”
“You could do a lot worse than Matt.”
I rubbed my forehead. “I’m aware. But it’s not about him. You know I want to go to Nashville. He’s going to be in Michigan. What if it’s just not our time?”
“Just wait until the end of summer. If you’re going to break up, do it when you’re not working for his family.”
I scraped my teeth along my bottom lip several times. “Break up sounds bad. I just want to go our separate ways. No big deal. Is that too much to ask?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Matt. Do you not love him anymore?”
“No. I mean … I love him. We love each other. But he lo ves baseball, and I love music. It doesn’t feel like our love is what matters most to either one of us right now.”
“What if the feeling is not mutual? Matt has loved you forever.”
“He doesn’t share my passion. I need someone who loves me enough to want to see me following my dreams, who supports me.”
“Like you sit in the bleachers and watch him play baseball even though you’re not a baseball fan.”
“Which he doesn’t know and ever will know,” I said with emphasis.
“My lips are sealed.”
“And don't tell Joanna or anyone that I'm having these thoughts about Matt, or else my parents will catch wind of it and ground me until I promise to marry him so we can breed little ranch helpers and missionaries.”
“That’s a little extreme.” Heather laughed.
“It’s not.”
“Well, I have to finish my trig homework while you dream of both Cory boys.”
“I am not dreaming of Isaac,” I said.
“Sarah, we’ve always dreamed about Isaac.”
I didn’t lie to Heather. Matt loved baseball the way I loved the lyrics to Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”
At eighteen, all we had was an abundance of aspiration. The only difference was everyone supported Matt’s passion as a brave and admirable pursuit of happiness through his God-given talent .
No one cared that, if given the chance, I could make hearts bleed as much as Bonnie Tyler.
“Go Matt!” I yelled, flying to my feet when he hit a double his first time up to bat.
As I sat on the bleachers with Heather and Joanna, Violet and Isaac made their way toward me.
“We’re late,” Violet said, sliding on her sunglasses. “I thought I was going to get Wesley to come, but no such luck.”
She hugged me before taking a seat behind us. “Oh, Isaac, there’s bird poop.” She pointed to the bench next to her.
“We’ll scoot down,” Heather offered while she and Joanna made me scooch to the left.
Isaac adjusted his cowboy hat and sat next to me. “Sunday Morning,” he murmured.
“It’s Sarah.”
“I know,” he smirked, gazing out at the baseball field.
His jean-clad leg pressed to mine, and I tried to scoot a little closer to Heather, but there wasn’t wiggle room.
“Do you like baseball?” he asked.
Heather snorted, and I elbowed her.
“Duh, what do you think? I’m here, aren't I?”
“That’s not an answer.” He chuckled, and it felt like a condescending response. “I don’t really care for it. I prefer football. Track. Basketball. Not baseball. It’s pretty boring.”
I glanced back at Violet to see if she was hearing him, but she was focused on Matt making it to home plate with the next batter.
“Then why are you here?” I asked.
“Same reason you are: to support Matty.”
“Oh my gosh, you call him Matty?” Heather asked, leaning forward to see Isaac .
“Isaac has a problem with real names,” I said.
“That’s not true. I only have special names for special people,” he said, playfully nudging my leg, which made Heather pinch my arm.
When I looked in her direction, she and Joanna were gawking at me and Isaac. I shot them a wide-eyed SOS signal before facing forward.
“Well, I’m calling you Isaac,” I said.
“Because I’m not that special?”
“You’re something ,” I murmured before lowering my voice to ensure Violet didn’t hear me. “But special, is not it.”
Isaac adjusted his body in a way that made his leg and arm press to mine.
“I’m going to the concession stand,” I announced, quickly standing. “You coming?” I asked my friends.
“No, we’d better stay and save seats,” Joanna said as Heather filled my space to sit close to Isaac.
She grinned at me.
“Since you’re going,” Isaac dug into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, “mind getting me a Mountain Dew, Sweetarts, and popcorn?”
I stared at his money and then at him.
He smiled. It was a little lopsided, and it brought out a tiny dimple on his right cheek. “Thanks. You’re the best.” Sometimes he had a slight Southern accent, like he brought it out when he needed to sound convincing.
Heather and Joanna covered their mouths and snorted.
When I didn’t take the money, Isaac pulled a five from his pocket and added it to the ten. “I’ll get yours too.” He grabbed my hand and shoved the bills into it.
“Isaac, what do you say?” Violet said .
I was dumbfounded. Isaac’s mommy had to prompt her twenty-four-year-old son to use his manners.
He wet his lips, giving me a look that felt a little inappropriate. “Please.”
I huffed before worming my way down the bleachers to the concession stand. It was a lot to carry, but I stuffed his roll of Sweetarts into one pocket and my peanut M I kissed him. And when I opened my mouth, begging for him to stick his tongue in it, he pulled away.
“I’ll call you after dinner,” he said after clearing his throat.
“Fine.” I returned a tight smile while he climbed into his car.
“Sarah!”
I turned toward Heather’s shrill voice as she and Joanna shuffled their way toward me in the gravel parking lot, kicking up dust with their dirty Keds just as Matt pulled out of his spot .
Joanna smacked her gum, gathering her black permed hair in one hand while her other checked her voluminous mall bangs, which were held in place with so much hairspray that they could’ve survived a tornado.
“Did you tell Matt you were flirting with his brother?” Joanna eyed me.
“Shut up. I was not. Isaac is such a jerk.”
“But a hot jerk,” Heather said.
Yes. Isaac was very hot. Scorching hot. Burn-in-Hell level of hot.
“Oh, did you ask your parents about camping over the Fourth?” Heather asked.
“Mine said yes,” Joanna said, absentmindedly twirling her hair around her finger.
I nodded. “They said as long as it’s just girls and no guys.”
“How would they know?” Heather waggled her eyebrows even though we weren’t inviting guys.
“Who would you invite?” Joanna asked. “Matt or Isaac?”
Heather snorted, covering her mouth.
“Neither.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s just us girls.”