The Long, Winding Road

7. Pt.1

Sunday, November 6th
10:30 AM

Today seems different.

It's not the "kicking and screaming" kind of Sunday that it usually is every week. It's been a breezy morning, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't even a little worried, because days like this rarely ever happen.

Nora and I have even been on good terms, so far. That is confirmation of some major voodoo stuff going on. By now we would usually be at each others throats, but she is a different person on Sundays, or when literally anyone else is around.

And as for me, only one thing is keeping me in a good mood.

I yank down the dress that slid its way up my knee, and reposition myself on the pew. I can't find a comfortable spot, and I get a bit antsy. I stretch out my back, and pray, but not really, that time would just move along already.

I watch as Minister Baker talks about righteousness and blah, blah, blah. I'm not really listening, rather I'm trying to stop myself from cracking jokes to Charlie beside me. But he has a reputation around here, and I wouldn't want to be the influential factor into ruining it. If it already isn't.

My mind also tends to wander to the events of last night, and I feel a sort of giddiness every time I think about it. I end up smiling to myself, and then I look around hoping no one saw me.

Charlie and I haven't even talked about the kiss, yet. And I would be lying if I said that didn't bother me. However, I have made it a priority to not be like those "so, what are we?" kind of girls. Because, that's just plain annoying. But then, Charlie will touch me or saying something in a way that makes me not have to wonder, which no one, and I mean no one, has ever made me before.

Every so often he'll nudge into me, something I realize is his way of conformation and his own way of saying he's there, without actually doing it. And then Minister Baker will say something about love, and he'll look my way, not so slyly too. The little glances get me deep every time. My heart jumps up and down like a kid in a candy store when he does. I will never get tired of it, of him.

Like I said, today feels different.

We're now so close in a way that I can feel his body heat, but not quiet touching. It's agonizing.

I keep my focus in front of me, still concentrating on the fact that Charlie is right there; the tension is undeniable and forbidding. All the will power within me is keeping me from doing anything about it.

Only until Minister Baker starts saying something so familiar and entrancing, "Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. ."

Charlie shuffles in a way that brings our gap to a close, and it sends me in a whirlwind. Our arms now touching, and his knee rubbing against mine.

He knows what he does to me.

His fingertips glide down my arm, so light to remain unsuspecting; running a desirable vigour through my body. His fingers meet my palm with a slight tickling touch, and he laces his fingers between mine.

". . It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offence and is not resentful. ."

I close my fingers over his hand and pull our hands tight together. I don't dare glance around, especially at him, because then anyone could read me like a book. I'm not all that well at hiding the emotions he makes me feel.