19. Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
I head back to Brooklyn the Saturday after Thanksgiving so that I can attend church on Sunday. Brooks isn’t here, not that I’m watching for him. Simply a casual observation.
When the service ends, Joy finds me. “Teegan! Did you have a good Thanksgiving? Who did you celebrate with?” she asks.
“I did! Just my parents in KC, but we had a good day. How about you?” I return the question.
“We did have a great time. We traveled to see Caleb’s family a few hours away, and it was good to see everyone,” Joy answers. “Hey, would you be free for lunch today? I know I see you every week at small group, but we haven’t been able to talk one-on-one in a while.”
“I’d love to! I don’t have anything going on. Caleb won’t mind?”
“Oh no, he’ll be fine,” she says. “He’ll be content to sit and watch football in the silence all day. He enjoys people time, but he’s an introvert at his core. So some alone time after seeing extended family will be good for him.”
Joy rides with me to Sandy’s, a sandwich shop in Center Square that’s a local favorite. We order food and find a table in the corner. She asks me lots of questions about campus, which I’m well-prepared to answer after sharing so many of the same stories with my parents. But then she asks a question that I’m not prepared to hear.
“So, have any of the guys from our small group caught your eye in a more-than-friends way?” There’s a twinkle in her eyes as she asks.
I swallow my bite of sandwich before chewing fully, and it goes down with a fight. Gulping water, I cough and clap my chest .
“Sorry, didn’t mean to choke you,” she apologizes. But the twinkle in her eye has only grown at my flustered response. “I mean, you don’t have to answer. I think that all of you are so amazing, and I love love, so I can’t help but hope that some matches might be made. I apologize if I overstepped our friendship in asking.”
“Ummm, ahhh, no, you’re totally fine, Joy.” I stumble over the words. “I mean, you are a friend I trust and would want to talk about these kinds of things with.”
My eyes shift around the restaurant as my knee starts bouncing under the table.
“I just wasn’t expecting that question. You caught me off guard, that’s all,” I say, trying to buy more time to decide how to answer.
Joy takes a big bite of her buffalo chicken wrap, giving me ample opportunity to continue talking.
I take another drink of water, desperate to cool down the flush heating my face. “So, yeah, I guess there’s a connection,” I say with false levity in my voice. “Or there might be one. Still to be determined.”
She silently regards me with encouraging eyes. I blow out a long exhale. “Brooks and I are . . . well, we’ve talked, and there’s the possibility of something, maybe.”
“I knew it!” Joy exclaims, raising her fists and shimmying her shoulders with delight. “You two seem so perfect for each other, and I thought I sensed something in how he looks at you.”
The heat returns to my cheeks at her comment. How much do I explain? Leave it at that, or fill her in on the bigger picture?
I bite my lip before deciding to dive in. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” I begin hesitantly. “Um, Brooks and I, well, we have more history between us than just small group this semester.”
“Right, you knew each other in high school,” Joy states. I give her a meaningful look. Her eyes widen as the light bulb flips on. “Ohhh, you dated in high school.”
Nodding, I blow out a breath. “As Brooks shared already, he wasn’t a Christian in high school. And he ended our relationship very . . . poorly.”
Joy’s face softens with empathy. “I’m sorry to hear that, Teegan. ”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. And he’s obviously changed a lot since then. We both have,” I reason. “But it did mess me up for a long time when our relationship ended. It was . . . well, the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced. So I’m trying to figure out if I’m willing to risk a repeat.”
“I take it Brooks has already indicated his interest in pursuing a relationship again? At least, the amount of planning and coordinating he did for your birthday certainly leads me to that assumption,” Joy says.
I nod. “He’s giving me the time to decide what I want. But he’s leaving no stone unturned in the meantime.”
Joy smiles. “As he should be. You’re an incredible woman, Teegan. He’d better be pulling out all the stops to win you over.” Her smile softens. “But also—it’s okay if you decide to say no. Don’t mistake me saying you’d be a great match with me pressuring you into it.”
I look down at the table. “I’ve really enjoyed our small group, though. It’s filled this hole in my life that I didn’t realize was there. I’d hate to mess up the vibe of our group by turning him down. Or by saying yes and then having things end badly.” I cover my face with my hands. “I think we’ve passed the point of no return, though. No matter what happens, there’s a risk of things exploding.”
“Teegan, there’s always a risk of things exploding,” Joy says, and I peek out from behind my fingers. “Each day holds the threat of something terrible changing life as we know it forever. But every day also holds the potential for beauty you didn't see coming. You never know what kind of day it’s going to be. Sure, you can calculate risk, but you can never fully avoid pain.”
I mull over her words. “I’m not quite sure how to calculate this risk. Math was never my strongest subject. My mental calculator is the kind that looks like a bar of chocolate you buy from the school book fair, not the graphing type,” I joke.
Joy laughs. “I think you’ll do just fine figuring things out. Let me reiterate: I’m not telling you that Brooks is a risk you should take. That’s up to you to decide. I’m only reminding you that there’s risk everywhere. Live bravely, even when you feel afraid.”
Joy’s advice echoes in my thoughts throughout the week. It’s always in the back of my mind—during my Bible studies, while I’m visiting the sororities, even while I’m dancing my stress away at gym class. I decide I should text Joy and thank her again for all of her thoughts and encouragement.
Before I click my phone off, I open my latest text from Brooks. It’s a photo of the sunset over the Flint Hills at the prairie reserve on the outskirts of Brooklyn. The vibrant pinks of the sky swirl with lavender clouds over the rolling plains.
brOOKS
Made me think of you. It’s almost as beautiful
At small group on Wednesday, we’re discussing the fourteenth chapter of John. We spend a lot of time talking about what troubles our hearts and what it looks like to rely on the peace that Jesus gives. A peace that’s unlike what the rest of the world has to offer.
I’m quieter than usual throughout the discussion. But I can’t exactly delve deep into what’s troubling my thoughts and disrupting my peace right now. Not when he’s across the circle from me.
Sleep comes in short bursts throughout the night as my mind tosses and turns over Brooks. At this point, it’s useless to deny that my heart wants to be with him again. My Brooks. And yet, not the same Brooks. The updated version of Brooks that feels like it belongs with the updated version of me. As though every updated version will forever fit together, regardless of how we grow and develop with age.
Can I risk the possibility of a virus corrupting everything between us? Irreparably damaging my core processor? Since when do I think in computer software metaphors? I’ve been hanging around Will too much.
Because sleep was fitful, it doesn’t take much to wake me early Thursday morning. The sound of an ice scraper outside my window pulls me to full consciousness in record time .
Somehow, that sound scrapes away any lingering hesitations. I race to throw a sweatshirt over my pajama top and slide my feet into slippers. Opening the front door, I see that it’s actively sleeting.
And still, Brooks is scraping what ice he can off my windshield. Gina’s car is already cleaned off, aside from the fresh pellets still falling. He’s bundled up in a winter coat and gloves, but he still must be freezing.
Not even bothering to change into real shoes, I carefully make my way to Brooks, noticing that he sprinkled ice melt on the sidewalk.
“Teegan, what are you doing? It’s freezing out here! Get back inside!” Brooks tells me when he sees me approach.
“I want this.”
Brooks stares at me, hints of disbelief and hope wrestling in his eyes. “I really need you to clarify that statement,” he says, a desperate huskiness lacing his tone.
My body trembles from a combination of fear, adrenaline, and frozen rain, but I plunge ahead through the discomfort. “You. Us. Everything. I want this,” I state. “At least, I want to try. To see if there’s a second chance for us.”
The ice scraper clatters to the ground as Brooks exhales a shaky breath. He steps forward, closing the space between us. Pulling off his gloves, he cups my face in his hands. Pellets of ice continue falling around us, but the heat in his gaze sparks a fire in my core.
“This isn’t just a second chance to me, Sneaks.” His voice is tender, little more than a murmur. “This is the only chance I ever want. Before you say yes to this, you should know that I’m not just trying. It’s not going to be a half-hearted ‘it works or it doesn’t’ shot to me. We’re talking next-level full-court press, Teeg. Is that still what you want?”
I can’t look away from his eyes, from the intensity and pleading and fervor housed in those pale blue pools. Willing myself not to blink, I slowly reach my hands up to cover his.
“Yes.” It’s a whisper and a scream.
A smile twitches at the center of Brooks’ lips, slowly spreading to take over his entire face. His eyes briefly drop to my lips before returning to hold my gaze .
“I’m going to work really hard to not get ahead of myself with you, Sneaks. But know that in my mind, I kissed you senseless just now,” he says with a smirk.
I drop my head back, breaking eye contact, if only to stop myself from kissing him senseless. He’s right—it would be far too easy to get ahead of ourselves. Far. Too. Easy.
“Can I take you on an official date this Saturday?” Brooks asks, and I nod a yes. “I’ll think of nothing else till then.”
“Your poor students,” I tease.
“They’ll be fine. They can read the textbook. It’s riveting,” he teases back. “Now go inside before you freeze and get sick again.”
“That wasn’t the end of the world, you know. I had a pretty good caretaker,” I tell him with a smirk of my own, reaching up to tap my finger against the cleft in his chin.
He groans. “You are not helping the self-restraint, Sneaks. Get outta here!” He shoos me toward the house, picking up the ice scraper to finish the job.
Once inside, I close the front door and lean against it. The ice clinging to my hair starts melting instantly. I need a hot shower and dry clothes stat, but I take a moment to close my eyes and smile in the silence.
All traces of fear are replaced by the joy that wells up in my heart and spills out from my eyes.
This is the only chance I ever want.