Chevelle's Story

chapter 8.1

"You have five older brothers?"

Abel nodded, carefully placing his block atop the Jenga tower. "Yeah," he said. "I'm the baby in my family."

"Awww," Chevelle cooed, clasping her hands together as she pouted up at him. "That's so cute. I wouldn't have pegged you as a youngest child."

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

She shrugged. "You just seem more responsible than younger siblings usually are. But then again, I guess I don't know you that well."

With a laugh, Abel said, "Don't worry, in a few weeks, I'm sure you'll think I'm much more immature than you do now."

"Well, in a few weeks, I'll no longer be here," Chevelle reminded him. "So, I guess your secret's safe. Until next Christmas, at least."

Holding her breath, Chevelle gently pushed a block out from the very bottom row of the Jenga tower. It wobbled a little as the block came loose and Chevelle winced but kept pushing, and finally, when the block came free, both she and Abel let out deep breaths.

Chevelle smirked up at him as she placed the block atop the now very unstable tower. She didn't want to call it yet, but she already had a feeling she'd won the game. They could both tell that the tower wouldn't stay up for much longer.

Abel scanned the rows with narrowed eyes, trying to decide where best to make his move.

"So does that mean I have something to look forward to?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Next Christmas," he elaborated. "You'll be coming back?"

"Oh." Chevelle sighed. "I don't know," she said. "It depends."

She didn't want to lie to him and say yes—not because she thought he'd remember her a whole year from now or anything, but she just didn't like making promises she wasn't sure she could keep. Chevelle was the kind of person whose word actually meant something to her, and it had only been three days, but she was already itching to get away from that house. Was she really about to put herself through that turmoil all over again next year? Unlikely.

Having Abel around definitely made things easier though. His house was like an oasis—a beautiful, plant-filled sanctuary Chevelle could escape to when she needed to breathe a little easier. That morning, when Abel called her phone, she'd actually squealed when she saw his name pop up. And Chevelle wasn't a squealer.

She'd been thinking about reaching out to Abel since Christmas morning, and on some level, she already knew he'd be happy to hear from her. Ever since they met each other at the bar that day, all he'd given her were green lights. There were no mixed signals, there was no back and forth; he was into her. That much was clear. And she knew that. Deep down, Chevelle knew, but still.

It was something about being in that house...

Something about having to constantly choke on Farah and Jared's newfound love...it made Chevelle feel so undesirable. Or rather, like she was undeserving of desire—unable to accept it when it came her way.

And so, she was thankful Abel had called when he did. That he had cared enough to take the initiative.

On the phone, he'd said that he remembered Chevelle was leaving tomorrow and that he wanted to see her again before she did. Chevelle wasn't sure if 'see her' meant that he wanted to just hang out and maybe smoke a blunt like that first night, or if it meant he wanted to...do other activities. Either way, she took a shower before she left home, just in case. And now, as she sat on the soft carpet, across the living room table from Abel, she was grateful she had.