Heather Oakley Beltran an innocent Christian girl, the most purest and Holden Parker a quiet and serious boy who's completely lost and hurt by his past.
How can two such different souls learn to love one another?
Sometimes all God does is let two c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Holden's home was just as I had expected it to look. It was plain simple, no frames on the walls, just what was necessary like furniture and appliances. In the living room I did notice a frame perched up in one of the tables. It looked like a family picture. I wondered in the back of my mind how the house must've been arranged when Auburn, Holden's mom, still lived here. Perhaps, there were frames all over the walls, flowers in a beautiful vase in the kitchen table, the house would be smelling like fresh food every evening. It saddened me seeing the house so sullen. It sort of made me want to bring light into it.
Maybe a few touches here and there.
"Do you understand?" Holden's voice snapped me out my thoughts.
I cleared my throat, glancing up at him, only to see a raised eyebrow starring back at me. "Um...yeah." I grinned, looking down at the paper. We've been here at Holden's kitchen table for the half-hour, trying to get me to understand the historical context of the final book we got told to read for our final semester. I was surprised to find out he himself hadn't read that book. But still even if he hadn't read it, he still had greater understanding than I. I wasn't lying when I said I did understand. Only partial understanding.
"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying, Oakley?" Holden said amusedly, placing the pencil in hand back down in the table. I'm surprised he hadn't placed it behind his ear.
"Yeah, of course. Um...just if you explain it over I'll probably let it stick in my brain. I have bad memory."
"You were not listening," He said as if confirming it to his own self. Again he grabbed the pencil, scrolled the pages of the book and started to explain it over again. I seriously didn't understand how much patience he carried within him. I'd be irritated at my own self by now. Ever since Friday at church I started to see Holden in such a different light. In a way, he looked more lighter, more happy? I guess. It was just something I was seeing in his eyes that I hadn't seen before that night. It was captivating, really.
We were researching in my laptop for more information to put together information about the historical context when we heard Holden's front door opening slowly. His dad was back from work.
Immediately my head shot up toward Holden. "Did you tell him I would be here?" I whispered under my breath.
Holden smiled, then nodded.
Apparently, he looked to have built better communication skills with his dad. He did mention to me that he wanted to have a real talk with him about their situation and also wanted to share and let him know the route that he has decided to take with his faith. He also mentioned that on Sunday morning he'd seen his mom's bible in his hand in which he looked a little stricken about.
I could imagine why.
I was tapping the pencil against the table in annoying nerves from seeing his dad again. I disliked these emotions from myself. Holden noticing this, placed a flat hand on top of my hand to stall it from tapping against the table and he gave me a look that told me to calm down.
