Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
SIMPLE MINDS, “DON’T YOU FORGET ABOUT ME”
He wouldn’t stop staring at me.
I’d come to love and hate Sunday morning service in equal parts because Isaac came with his family, but he sat in the back row and stared at me the whole time with an indiscernible expression that involved a wolfish grin.
“It’s hot,” I whispered to Heather while pulling at the neck of my choir robe.
“It’s not. Your dad always has the AC set at fifty,” she mumbled under her breath.
It was Satan. He brought the flames of Hell with him. And he loved watching me sweat and squirm through the whole service.
Matt never told me if they talked about the failed attempt at sex. And I didn’t ask. It was history.
But every Sunday, Isaac taunted me .
When summer officially arrived, I had high hopes of making lots of money working at the farm stand so I could afford a trip to Nashville that didn’t involve visiting Vanderbilt, where I hadn’t gotten accepted. My parents thought a year or two at a community college and volunteering would increase my chances if I reapplied for the following year.
I wasn’t a straight-A student like Matt. My interest in music and writing songs distracted me from academics, so I had silver honors cords around my neck at graduation instead of gold like Matt and many of my friends.
“Congratulations!” Violet hugged me as everyone congregated in front of the school after the ceremony, a sea of graduates adorned in blue with white tassels.
“Thanks.” I unzipped my gown when she released me. Then I glanced up, getting a whiff of cigarette smoke.
Isaac stood across the street, puffing away in jeans and a KISS T-shirt. When he saw me looking at him, he flicked the cigarette butt and stepped on it with his boot before crossing the street. “Way to go, Sunday Morning,” he said.
I searched for Matt, but he was nowhere in sight. My sisters were talking to some of their friends, and our parents were mingling with other graduates and parents. There was no one to save me from Satan.
“What’s up with the loser cords?” He nodded toward me.
“Excuse me?” I wrinkled my nose.
“Silver cords. That’s disappointing.”
My jaw dropped. Was he implying that silver cords meant I was stupid? There were some students who didn’t qualify for any cords.
“At least I have cords. I bet you barely got a gown and a hat with a tassel. ”
He pulled on my cords, removing them with a quick jerk. Then he used them to stretch over his head like Matt did with a baseball bat before his games.
“I was valedictorian like Matty.”
“Pfft.” I rolled my eyes.
Isaac grinned, and I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or gloating. “It’s true. Hey, Mom?”
Violet turned toward us, narrowing her eyes at my cords stretched above Isaac’s head as he twisted right and then left.
“Was I valedictorian of my class?”
“Give Sarah her cords back before you do something to them. Yes, you were valedictorian. Why?”
Had I wired it shut, I could not have prevented my jaw from dropping. The shock was too much.
Violet returned her attention to my friend Kennedy and her parents while Isaac’s grin swelled to obnoxious proportions.
“I heard you didn’t get into Vanderbilt. Maybe I could tutor you so you can retake your SATs and get a better score.” Isaac lassoed my cords, catching my neck in the hole.
My eyes almost popped out of my head.
“What flavor of cake are you having at your party?” he asked.
I removed the cords, so I didn’t look like a captured cow. “Chocolate and vanilla.”
“Marble? Or separate?”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I’m deciding which parties I’m going to hit based on the cake flavors being served.”
“Who said you’re invited to my party?”
His smirk returned. “Your parents invited my whole family. Are you having barbecued beef or those little turkey sandwiches on rolls with mayo and mustard? God, I love those. What about the mints? Are you serving the cream cheese kind? My mom and aunt made hundreds of them for Matty’s party.”
“He hates when you call him Matty. And I’m not a fan of Sunday Morning.”
Isaac’s eyebrows slid up his forehead. “I won’t tell your dad that.”
“You’re an idiot.”
He chuckled. “But I’m an idiot who loves little turkey sandwiches and cream cheese mints. So just give me the menu,” he looked at his hefty military-grade watch, “so I can plan accordingly.”
I pivoted, searching for Matt or anyone who I could talk to who wasn’t Isaac Cory.
“Sarah! You didn’t tell me Matt’s going to play baseball at Michigan,” Kristy snagged my arm. “He has a full ride? That’s so cool. I’m going there too.”
I fought for a non-catty smile. Kristy had a crush on Matt. She had ever since her family moved to Devil’s Head our sophomore year. Despite knowing I was his girlfriend, she always talked about him in front of me like we were girls crushing on a movie star.
But we weren’t.
He was my boyfriend, and Kristy was the psycho stalker.
“Sorry. I figured everyone knew,” I said.
“Are you going to Michigan?”
I shook my head, and Kristy couldn’t hide her excitement. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on him for you. Do you think you’ll stay together?”
“There you are,” Matt said, hugging me from behind and burying his face into my neck .
Kristy deflated while I smirked, so she walked away.
“My mom said we’ll go to your house for a while as long as we’re home by four for my open house,” he said.
I turned in his arms. “Kristy’s going to Michigan. She said she’d keep an eye on you for me.” I batted my eyelashes.
Matt rolled his eyes. “Please tell me you’re not jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. You can do whatever you want with Kristy.”
He took a step back. “Don’t do this. Nothing is set in stone.”
“Stop. We know where this is headed.” I shot him a toothy grin.
“I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want to do anything with anyone else. We have all summer. You act like I’m leaving tomorrow.”
I grabbed his gold cords, pulled him back to me, and smiled. “Yes. We have the summer.”
“Where we can do things ?” He bit his lower lip.
Sex.
I lifted onto my toes to kiss him, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught my dad staring at us, so I pressed my lips to his cheek instead of his mouth for a quick peck.
Was it okay that we were using each other for sex? I knew God’s answer, but mine was a little more flexible.
Matt’s family attended my open house for an hour before they had to get home for his. I planned on going there after mine ended at five.
Thirty minutes after they left, I ran inside to use the bathroom, only to find Isaac with his head in the fridge .
“The party is outside. And your family left. What are you still doing here?”
He turned, holding a jar of sliced dill pickles. “Beef burgers are a little disappointing, but I can deal with it as long as there are pickles.” He set the jar on the counter next to his paper plate piled high with food. “I’m sure it was an oversight on your mom’s part. No biggie.” Isaac opened the jar and fished a slice out with his plastic fork.
“Didn’t you ride with your parents?” I asked.
“Yes, but I wasn’t done eating, so your mom said I can ride with you when you go to Matty’s open house,” he mumbled after shoving nearly half the sandwich into his mouth. “I carried a few heavy coolers to the back of the garage for her. I think she’s starting to like me.”
Before I could respond, my mom slid open the patio door.
“Did you really say Isaac could ride with me to their house?” I blurted.
“Well, yes. Why?” She tore off a trash bag from the roll under the sink.
“I figured I was riding with you guys.”
Mom unfolded the bag and snapped it open. “I assumed you’d stay later than we will.”
“Oh.” That’s it. I had no better response. Of course, I would stay longer and therefore drive. But I couldn’t think in Isaac’s proximity because he made me nervous and other things I hadn’t yet defined.
Mom headed back out to the garage.
“You look pretty,” Isaac said. “That dress makes the blue in your eyes pop. You have great eyes. Does Matty tell you that? They’re really stunning. ”
I hated my body for blushing because Isaac wasn’t serious. He said it in a mocking tone like he said Matty .
My pleated blue peasant dress that covered my knees and shoulders and had a thin vinyl belt wasn’t sexy, and neither were my knee-high brown boots, but Isaac didn’t say I looked sexy. He said I looked pretty.
Suddenly, I hated the word pretty.
Pretty meant sweet.
Sweet meant innocent.
Innocent meant a virgin.
Don’t get me started on him calling my eyes stunning. No, “Matty” never said my eyes were stunning.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I mumbled, running up the stairs before the heat made my head pop like the valve on my mom’s pressure cooker.
How was I going to be alone with him in my car?