~Blake~
“The course of true love never did run smooth.”
Leslie bit on the cap of her pen and studied him for a long moment.
“What is that even supposed to mean?” she finally asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
At this point in studying, Blake wasn’t entirely sure. He and Leslie had come in after school like they did most weekdays, spreading their books and their notes over the table in her kitchen and getting right to the work that they’d brought home from their classes. Apart from chemistry, they didn’t have any classes together, but senior year was pretty basic in most subjects. Because the curriculum was similar across the board, Leslie was enduring Shakespeare in her honors section of English, and Blake was doing the same in his regular section, so they could study together.
Studying hadn’t originally been at the top of his list when it came to possible ways that he and Leslie could spend their afternoons, but her brother had, after several weeks of the two teenagers heading off after school in Blake’s car, usually to go park somewhere and make out, told Leslie that she needed to come home in the afternoons. He’d conceded that Blake could come along as well and hang out there, where Holly and Brooke were always going through the house from bedrooms to kitchen to living room.
It was like having chaperones.
Blake hadn’t been thrilled about it at first. But the more he learned at church and the longer he and Leslie were together, the greater his convictions were growing regarding certain parts of his life. His relationship with Leslie and how far he’d originally been willing to let their physical affections go was at the top of his list of new convictions. The same conviction he’d felt about Ben Sanders months ago came back in familiar ways with Leslie and the way he treated her. He loved her, though, so it was different. But, he’d come to realize, you could hurt someone you loved just as much as you could hurt someone you didn’t even really know. It was possible that you could hurt them even worse.
Before he met Jesus he never would have believed that making out in his car with someone could be something that might hurt them, especially since he actually loved this someone, unlike all the girls before her, but he saw the truth of it in subtle ways. Leslie would roll her eyes at her brother’s wide edicts now, the greatest of which was that he insisted they spend their weekday afternoons here in his house.
Blake had grown to appreciate the accountability that Travis had gifted him, just as he appreciated the few moments he’d get to talk to the other man every afternoon. Did Leslie know how lucky she was that she had a parent, albeit an older brother, who legitimately cared about her and wanted to see her do well in life?
No. She didn’t. More troubling than that was how she was starting to take her studies less seriously this far into their senior year.
“I don’t even care what Shakespeare was trying to say with that,” she said, putting down her book with carelessness. “I’m just counting the days until Christmas break, you know?”
So was Blake but for different reasons. His mother had a cousin who’d invited them out to their place for the holidays, which would be different this year. Blake’s last living grandparent had passed away over the summer, so their regular routine of staying in town so as to visit that grandparent had been up in the air. Blake had assumed that they’d just continue staying in town because they never went anywhere or did anything exciting anyway, but the invitation had come to go out to Dallas.
Dallas. That would involve quite a few hours in a car with his dad. Blake hadn’t been excited at that prospect in the least, nor had he looked forward to being away from Leslie.
“I don’t want to go,” he’d told his mother as she’d given him the news. “And I’ve got work the day after Christmas anyway.”
He assumed he would, at least. The diner closed for Christmas Day, but they couldn’t afford to close any more than that. Blake was sure he’d get all the worst hours over the holiday break with school not clouding up his schedule. And he was thankful for it if it would get him out of a road trip in the car with his father.
Patty had put her fork down and stared at him. They’d been having dinner at the table, like civilized people, all three of them home at the same time. A rarity that was more common than it had been for the past few weeks thanks to Tim, who had lost yet another job.
“What? Can’t you get someone else to cover for you? It’s Christmas!” she exclaimed.
“It’s Christmas for everyone,” Blake said, cutting another bite of food for himself. “And there are people with little kids, you know? They need the days off more than me during the holidays.”
It was a thoughtful sentiment. That’s another thing that had changed about Blake since becoming a believer. He might not have said anything out loud or explicitly about who Jesus was to him now, not to his parents or his old friends, but they could see a difference.
His parents exchanged a glance at this.
“Well,” Patty said, picking her fork back up, “you can’t stay here by yourself. You’re just a kid.”
“I’m going to be eighteen soon enough,” he said. He’d been counting down to that day for the majority of his childhood and his teenage years. Eighteen. Freedom from Tim and the looks that even then, as they sat at the dinner table, he’d been giving his son, and the words that Blake was sure he was preparing to offer to him, none of them helpful or encouraging.
Just harmful. Just like Tim had been the majority of Blake’s young life.
“He’s right,” Tim said. “Eighteen. Just that much closer to getting out of my pockets and my house.”
As though Tim had ever supported anyone in this family. Blake let the comment go, knowing that his father said it to get a reaction. He wouldn’t give the old man the satisfaction.
“But still,” Patty persisted. “He can’t spend Christmas alone.”
“I won’t spend it alone,” Blake said. “Leslie will be in town.”
Leslie. Another glance between his parents, a small smile on his mother’s face, a frown on his father’s. Patty was imagining the relationship for what it was – a sweet surprise for Blake, happiness and goodness in his otherwise sad life.
Tim was looking for ways to destroy even this.
“Leslie,” Tim said, and Blake cringed just slightly, hating the sound of her name in Tim’s mouth. “What did you say her last name was?”
He hadn’t. Not in the months he and Leslie had been dating. But he offered it then, knowing just how it would be received. “Collins.”
Tim considered this for a moment, leaning back in his chair. “Collins. She related to Travis Collins?”
Travis Collins, who had let him go with justifiable reason after giving him every opportunity to do the right thing.
“She’s his sister,” Blake said, not even raising his eyes to his father’s.
Tim barked out a laugh at this, and Blake couldn’t keep himself from glancing up from his food.
“Too good for you, probably,” Tim said. “Or I’ll bet she thinks she is. Stuck up, spoiled rich kid.”
“Tim,” Patty said softly, chidingly.
But Tim was watching Blake, almost as though he was hoping for a fight. Blake had friends like him at school. Well, he’d had friends like him. Now that Leslie was around and Christ was in his heart, those friendships had faded. And what was more, Blake, who had once been that same kind of guy, wasn’t anymore.
He wasn’t looking for a fight.
But Tim was.
“You be careful, boy,” he said, sneering at his son. “No matter how rich she is, she’s probably just like all the others out there, looking to trap you. So you be careful when you spend Christmas with her. Don’t want to be stuck with a little brat of your own and a girl who you’ll have to marry.”
Blake took a breath, reminding himself that Tim only said these things to get a reaction. And it worked because there was Patty, looking just a little broken that her husband could say such things, intending two targets with them – Blake and her both.
Why had she never left him? Why had she let Blake grow up in this dysfunction?
So messed up. So messed up.
Blake had stood to his feet, done with dinner and with the situation.
“Where are you going?” Tim had barked at him, getting to his feet as well.
“Out,” Blake said, not bothering to even look at his mother, hating her as much as he hated his father in that moment.
He’d driven to Leslie’s house and sat in her driveway for a long moment, debating where else he could go. None of his old haunts, the places he’d gone before he’d come to Christ. Was there any place for him in all the world? He’d only just bowed his head to pray about it all, about all the hurt in his life, when he’d heard a rap on his window.
Travis was standing there, watching him.
Blake had rolled down the window, wondering at what kind of reception he’d get here. He wondered if Travis had any clue what life was like at the Young house. Surely he’d made the connection to Tim.
“You’re here to see Leslie, aren’t you?” Travis sighed.
This was a better reason than coming here because there was nowhere else to go, right?
“I am,” Blake managed sheepishly.
Travis studied him for a long moment, watching him carefully. Blake was certain that he knew the truth, that home was so bad and that he understood what was really going on.
“Well, come on in,” he said. “I just got home myself, which means that Leslie’s probably just now putting dinner on the table.”
He’d been so thankful for the inclusion. Thankful and just a little envious of Leslie, who didn’t know what she had.
Here she was, bemoaning the last few days they had before Christmas break as though they were a real trial to overcome. She didn’t know anything about real trials.
“I’ve gotta work all through Christmas break,” he said to her, looking back down at his book. “Cry me a river, Leslie.”
She’d looked a little offended, so he’d crooked a small smile at her. He wasn’t really upset. Just envious.
Besides, how could he be upset with her when she was all that was good and right in his life? How could he feel anything but happiness towards her when he loved her like he did?
“Not the whole break, I hope,” she said. “I want to spend time with you. And I’ve got work, too. Lots of holiday orders. Cupcakes galore.”
“Well, maybe I can help you with all of that, your majesty,” he said.
“Maybe I’ll let you,” she smiled, leaning over and kissing him, just as they heard the front door open.
Travis.
Blake sat back as Leslie rolled her eyes.
“Great timing, Travis,” she said.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he muttered, coming in and shrugging off his coat. “Hey, Blake.”
“Hey, Travis.”
“Studying hard, huh?” he asked, looking between the two of them for a moment, seemingly satisfied with the books and the notes laid out. Legit studying, not making out.
“Shakespeare,” Leslie said. “And I don’t get it.”
“Your grades have been slipping,” Travis said.
Because she was spending all of her time with Blake probably. He knew it. His grades, on the other hand, were phenomenal. He was actually trying, connecting what he did in the classroom to the glory of God, to doing all things to the glory of God.
“Because no one can understand what this says!” Leslie exclaimed. That and she wasn’t trying as much as she had in the past. Senioritis maybe. Or Blakeitis.
“What is it?” Travis asked. “Read it to me.”
“The course of true love never did run smooth,” she read in an affected British accent.
“Nice,” Travis nodded. He glanced up at Blake. “What do you think it means?”
Blake took a breath, looking back over the words. “That even the best love story isn’t without drama.”
Travis smiled at this. “Because women are drama. Some more than others.” He inclined his head toward his sister.
Blake caught himself smiling back as Leslie turned to her brother. “What would you even know about it? You don’t date!”
“I did date,” he corrected her. “A long time ago. But I’m not subjecting some poor, unsuspecting woman to the drama that is my life now with you, Holly, and Brooke.”
“Don’t use us as your excuse for being totally lame,” Leslie said.
That was a little mean. In the time Blake had been around them, he’d noted that Leslie said things that were a little stinging to her brother, more and more with the restrictions he placed on them.
He was just trying to protect her. Blake could see it. And again, he was envious that she had this and just a little irritated that she didn’t even know to appreciate it.
“Not an excuse,” Travis said, yawning. “Maybe I am lame. Or maybe it’s just that I’m too worn out for anything anyway. You have dinner planned?”
“It’s Holly’s night,” she said.
“So, we’re ordering a pizza,” he said wryly. “After she burns up whatever awful casserole attempt it is that she’s prepared and put in the fridge.”
Blake smiled at this, having had dinner at their house during a few of those poor Holly-made casseroles. She was the sweetest of all the Collins’ sisters, but she’d missed the gene that made her proficient in the kitchen, unfortunately.
“You want to join us?” Travis asked him.
Leslie looked at him hopefully.
“Can’t,” he said, regret in his voice. “I need to get home and finish up a paper for my history class.”
He was on track to make an A. He was on track to make As in all of his classes. That would be a first if it really happened.
“So serious about school all of a sudden,” Leslie said, smiling. “Getting college applications ready, I guess.”
Travis watched him closely, interested in his answer.
He could be honest and say what he really felt, that he was hopeful he could get in somewhere, that he’d figure out a way to pay for it. He was actually considering the possibility now, his confidence increasing the more he knew Christ, the more Leslie believed in him.
But then, he thought about his dad, about how he’d laugh at that kind of talk, about how he’d say something rude and demeaning.
And true, probably.
Who did Blake think he was? Someone who could have a life like Travis Collins? He could almost hear Tim laughing at him.
So he didn’t say what he really thought. He just shrugged. “Haven’t even thought about college.”
Leslie shook her head at this, still grinning, thinking that he was joking. But Travis looked… disappointed.
Blake felt just a little smaller than he had. His father’s disappointment was one thing, but a man like Travis… his disappointment was something else entirely.
“Well,” Leslie sighed, standing up and stretching, her body moving in a way that cleared and simultaneously redirected all of Blake’s thoughts instantly. “I’ll walk you out, then. Before Holly gets down here and smells the kitchen up.”
There was a twinkle in her eyes.
“Walk you out” was code for something else. Yes, she’d walk him out, but they’d spend a good fifteen minutes out there, wrapped up in one another in the shady part of the yard, far away from the road where no one could see them as they expressed all that they really felt.
It wasn’t right. It didn’t help Blake to keep their relationship pure. But it wasn’t as far as he’d gone with other girls, so he could reason his way into just enjoying it. Just enjoying her.
“Sounds good,” he said, gathering his things up and accepting Travis’s farewell handshake before reaching for Leslie’s hand and pulling her out with him, just as she was slipping his letter jacket on.
She wasted no time once they were outside and to their spot, pulling him close and smiling beneath his lips, just as he crushed them to hers. He could never get close enough to her in these moments. And it wasn’t about her body or the way this felt. It was a combination of all the moments they had throughout the day every day, how she could make him laugh, how he admired the way she believed in herself, and how happy he seemed to make her.
Leslie needed him as much as he needed her, and that… well, that did far more to get him excited than anything else.
He pulled back just as things were getting beyond a point that they’d not crossed. He kept his arms around her, though, smiling as she laid her head on his chest and wound her arms around his waist. He could hear her humming, literally humming a song. A popular one that was all over the radio, a song about feelings like what he felt now, about love…
“I like that song,” he murmured against her hair.
“I do, too,” she said. “Makes me think about you.”
She looked up at him, her eyes bright.
“Does it?” he asked, amazed again that she could feel for him what he felt for her.
“Yeah,” she said. “It should be our song.”
And he smiled at this, drawing her closer to himself, singing it softly to her as they moved from side to side, as though there was no one else in all the world.