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Author’s
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12
Years Makes a Difference FREE
Romantic Fiction Online provided
by PneumaSender |
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Friends
Again Chapter 6 For a
moment, Christa and Patrick could both have said that they'd believed that he
was seriously thinking of her as THE ONE. It shocked him for a minute, and it
scared her. Literally shaking off the thought, Christa said firmly, "I
am not the one for you, though, so get that settled in your mind, please."
With this, she rushed away to her room inside the house. Patrick
stayed on the bench and prayed. "Lord, you know that's not what I was
planning to say. I didn't mean to frighten her." He realized, though,
that Christa did indeed have all the qualities he admired in a girl, and he
would be pleased to marry her--or someone just like her. But
right now, he reminded himself, she was 14, and he didn't want to even think
about her in that way. He felt embarrassed about what he’d said, and about
how it might have looked to her. He needed to go inside and clarify some
things to her. Heading
up to her room, he found the door locked. Patrick knocked and asked,
"May I enter?" Christa unlocked the latch and the room appeared
through a sliver—not the most cordial invitation, but one which would have to
suffice. "Hey,” he asked, “can I try this again?" Christa had been
crying, and her face was red. She was still trembling. He wished he could
embrace her and apologize for the confusion his words had caused her, but
that would only make things worse. “Let’s
begin again,” he said, trying to catch her attention. Then, he stooped over
and sat down on a chair near her vanity table. "I don't talk much about
the years surrounding my Dad's death, and all the pain it brought with it.
But it's time you heard a story from then." Looking up, he said,
"Well, here goes...” His
face began to change, and such a radiance filled his eyes that Christa
suddenly understood more than what he said with his mouth. It was as if two
stories were being told--the factual one, and the one hidden in his
heart--until now. "Years
ago, I fell in love. The girl I dated—Delia--was clever, beautiful, and
amazing. Trust me, she was no wallflower." Her look turned a little
curious and she asked Patrick, "Did you kiss her?" He didn't miss
the hint of a dare in her voice. "Yes,
after three weeks of dating, I kissed her, and I kissed her often."
Christa couldn't help but smile at his comment. "Okay. So you want me to
wait three weeks," she said, clearly trying to pin down a rule that
would appease him. "Let
me finish..." he warned softly. She sighed, but quieted, and he could
see that she really listened. "When I was already head over heels, sure
she was the one for me, she came to me and told me she was pregnant."
Christa's head shot up to meet his gaze. "It
wasn't--no, no. Don't you dare think that. I never touched her—literally. My
lips touched hers and my hands stayed away from her body. The baby wasn't
mine—it was her ex-boyfriend's." Patrick's
smile faded and his face looked tense, as if he was once again hearing the
news. "She told me that they had believed that they were in love and
they got carried away. They went too far, just once. A day or two after that,
they broke up over a disagreement. “Within
weeks, each found a new love, but then they discovered that they were
expecting a baby together. "Delia had started a new life with me, a life
of chastity and a pure relationship, but everything was changed by that one act.
“They
left town together right after she told me about it." "Oh,"
she said, and he saw compassion and tenderness in her gaze. Patrick said,
"I wish I could explain it better--why I'm so adamant about this kissing
issue, but..." Wiping her face with the edge of her t-shirt, she said,
"Don't bother. I understood you. I just chose to take it the wrong way.
I was mad." Christa's
maturity was unique to a 14 year old, and he was once more struck with her
depth of character. "I wanted to be cool, and for that, I used Eric.”
She shrugged, embarrassed, “I don't even like him. He's shallow and he's
stupid. He can't even multiply.” Patrick laughed at this, enjoying her
unconscious display of intellectual pride. She
continued, “But still, he is cute and I wanted to like him... I was
hoping to see if I felt anything when we kissed." Raising an eyebrow,
Patrick's eyes conveyed the unspoken question. "Nope, nothing, and we
didn’t even really kiss. I pecked him on the cheek. I couldn’t make myself go
near his mouth after knowing how many other girls’ spit must have been
smeared on those lips." Patrick
hooted with laughter for a moment, then sobered. She looked at him and said,
"What you said struck me, because that's just what I had been thinking, What
if the man God has for me thinks this is disgusting—Eric’s spit on my lips? But
I ignored the thought, trying to convince myself that this ordinary little
thing must right." Patrick smiled. "It's
not a little thing to God," he said needlessly. Sighing, she said,
"It's a sin for me to kiss a guy.” Laughing, she added, “It must be,
because I felt awful--even kissing his cheek!" Patrick giggled, then
added softly, "Promise me something?” Christa
had been scared by the speech he made in the garden. She thought of Patrick
as much older—and she didn’t want him thinking of her as a possible wife.
Still, just now, he looked like her old friend, Patrick. She nodded. He
spoke. “When
you think of getting close to anybody, would you remember what I said to you
today, and would you remind yourself of what I might think in that instance?
Remember, the man God has for you will love you and cherish you. He will care
about keeping you pure, and he will want you to protect that purity,
too." With
emotion in her voice, she said quietly, "Yes." Still, she added,
"but only because I want the man that I marry to be proud of me--not
because I think it’s you." He smiled, looking down at her bedspread,
ready to nod at anything that would involve her promising to think twice
before kissing anyone. |
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