MAMA AND PAPA WENT out of town to visit my grandparents this morning. I wish I could have gone with them to South Carolina, but they’re there for a week and I have clinical during that time. Also, I need to cram study since there are just a few weeks left of school. I woke up feeling a little less light-headed and irritable after much needed sleep, but I still can’t stop thinking about Ben.

Truthfully, I can’t tell you if I’m mad or if I want to see him again. It’s all very confusing. Kate said she’s seeing Eric tomorrow for boating on the lake and asked me to come along, but I shot her down. I’m staying home to study, then I plan to hit my bed early before a busy week from medical hell.

The doorbell rings letting me know Mike is here, so I quickly throw on my zip up hoodie and rush to meet him at the door. I’m wearing skinny jeans, some thigh high boots and a black basic tee. It’s raining like crazy today opting me to chose comfy, warm, but still a little more stylish then what I usually do.

“Mike, hey,” I greet him. Leaning in, he gives me a brisk kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, Sadie.” The greeting is warm, but for the first time in a while I don’t feel over the moon to hang out with Mike. He’s attractive, don’t get me wrong, with his green eyes, brown hair, large build and muscular physique. However, I can’t help but comparing him to Ben.

I mean what in the actual world is that? The persona he gave on stage was confident, charming, alluring and much more, making me feel things I never have and never should. Then he opens his mouth and it’s nothing but profanities with vain undertones. Ben is bad, so bad I should be afraid, but instead I’m torn up inside about him.

“You look comfy, ready to go?” I tuck my hair behind my ear, feeling inadequate. I did my makeup a little heavier than usual and I curled my hair, hoping he would give me some kind of compliment. Some part of me thought it would set me back on my path, but he doesn’t even notice me, looking right through me.

“Yeah, let me grab my bag.” My stomach drops when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in our entryway. As I look at myself, I feel foolish for trying to get him to notice me like this. I must be desperate. Picking up my bag, I fake a smile as we make our way toward our local hangout at the downtown deli.

“You want some coffee?” Mike offers standing from the table. We just finished our same old chocolate chip pancakes special with orange juice—we order it every Friday morning and each time we split it. I like food, Mike likes fitness, so I give in and let us share so he doesn’t go overboard. I’ll just sneak snacks in when I get home.

“Yeah, thanks.” Leaving me for a moment, I pull out my scriptures and open to where I left off in Joshua 1:9. “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Ben. That’s the first thought that comes to mind. I’m uneasy over the way I’m obsessing over him; the way he makes me think tirelessly about him, dream about him and wake desperately trying to find attention from someone else so I can forget about him.

Being strong and courageous where he is concerned seems unachievable, a place I risk going to and never coming back from. The point may be mute really, since I may never see him again. If I’m wise I will just get back to school, church and Mike.

“I have a few quotes from Joshua in my sermon. Here, read it, make some notes.” Mike comes back setting down the coffee, then taking the few papers wedged in his scriptures, he hands them to me.

I scan over the papers and like a sign from God himself, Mike’s entire sermon is based around moral indecency and fire with temptation. What am I doing? Thank you God for the sign. I need to forget Ben Cooper, forget the tiny moment we shared and the way he made me feel. It’s wrong—all of it is wrong.

There wasn’t even a touch shared between us, just a solid scorching look and a few cocky words and propositions that I would never entertain. There’s no way that I can be mulling over this idea any more than I already have.

“So, what do you think?” Mike questions as I slide the papers back to him.

“It’s perfect, I love it. There are some great points made in there. What made you decide to talk on this?” I question, taking a sip of my coffee.

“Well, my father and I were out the other day and we saw a woman with this man and she was all over him—dressed like a real whore. Well, I couldn’t help but think that she has no morals and that is the work of the devil—letting her invite temptation in.” The crass way he called the woman a whore is out of character for him.

“Well, aren’t men sinners, too? I mean he was part of that, so isnt he just as quilty of sin as she is?” He shakes his head.

“Yeah, but the way her body was on display like that, the way she showed her body to him—that’s the temptation.”

“Are you saying she’s asking for it? That men can’t control themselves because of women?” I ask blindsided by his opinion and to be completely honest, highly offended.

“Yes, if you dress immodest in front of men, who naturally cannot control the way they think, then you are to blame for the sin.” I’m literally stunned speechless, not sure what to say, but arguing in public isn’t my thing and I feel like he is speaking to me, not at me. Last night was my fault. I dressed immodest. I showed my body to a man made to sin and lust over women and I invited that attention. How could I be so dumb? Or offended when he made those comments? I invited it.

“Anyway, I need to get home to study,” I state, suddenly uncomfortable and ready to leave. I not only feel like a joke, but I feel ashamed that Mike feels this way. I know it makes me sound naive and impressionable, but I was just doing this last night. No matter how womanizing or chauvinistic his point is, I still feel like I put myself in the line of fire, the straight path to sin, and I just want to go home, repent and refresh for the week ahead of me.

“Thank heavens you’re a good girl, Sadie.” I smirk and it doesn’t reach my eyes but the knife of guilt digs deeper into my stomach.

I just nod, his whole demeanor today just seems off-putting, not making me as comfortable as I usually am in his presence. I feel like the past twenty four hours have been a perpetual running joke, that centers around me. Not even a good night’s sleep could fix all this, obviously.

“Let’s go.”

§

I have stared at the same textbook for the past six hours, only taking breaks to eat and watch The Health Channel. It’s nearing seven p.m. and it’s grown dark outside. The day got away from me, but the studying definitely kept me distracted enough to not think about Ben or the off conversation that I had this morning with Mike. Seriously, what was that bull honkey?

I pick through the fridge, pushing past all the condiments and random things, not finding anything appetizing. The thought of pizza has my tummy singing, even though I could probably go for something healthier.

I’m not a small girl, nor am I big. I have thin legs and a flat stomach, but my thighs, butt and breasts are thick, my hourglass figure not hiding that I like to eat my carbs. I work out a couple times a week when I find the time, usually it’s before or after work at the facility provided by the hospital.

Pushing my dieting choices to the back of my mind, I order the pizza then FaceTime mama to help fill the wait time. I haven’t seen or spoken to grandma Mo in a couple of weeks. My eighty-year-old grandmother Moreen, Mo for short, may be the sweetest old lady there ever was in our small town of Chesnee, South Carolina. She leaves her door unlocked and all the neighbors come in and stop by for pie or cookies or whatever roast she’s cooking.

I miss that small town, the way everyone knows everyone, but most of all I miss my spunky memaw Mo.

“Sadie Jay, how are you baby?” Mama answers, struggling to get her glasses on. I see my face in the little box and I look more than exhausted—I look like the living dead. I wiped all the makeup off my face and my lips are swollen and covered in ChapStick from biting them tirelessly during studying. My hair is in a top knot and my clothes are worn and torn. I’m wearing daddy’s old University of South Carolina hoodie and my worn leggings.

“I’m tired, just up studying. Where’s memaw?”

“She’s right here, hold on. So, you think you’ll be ready for finals?” she questions walking through the house.

“I think so, maybe. I don’t know, mama, I’m all over the place today,” I admit, defeated. I wish she was here so I could destress and unload on her or papa. The bond between my parents and I is not typical. They have always been open and honest with me, as I have been with them and truthfully, I plan to tell mama about Ben, then maybe she can make sense of it all.

“You’re smart, Sadie. I know you got this.”

“Yeah you do, baby girl.” Daddy’s voice comes through the phone. I smirk. Stanley and Raydeen McCallister are the greatest parents a girl could ask for.

“Thank you, guys. Now where is memaw? I want to see her!”

“I’m here, angel baby, oh my—look at you, Sadie Jay, you’ve grown up so much!” Her wrinkled yet stunningly youthful face comes into focus. I swear her spunk and joy have kept her youthful even in aging.

“It’s only been six months since you saw me, silly.”

“Yeah, but you young kids change so fast. You look like a young woman, just like your mama did when she was a young lady.” The twinkle in her eyes warms my heart. Her health hasn’t been the best lately, but she never lets that dull her charm and warming charisma. She’s suffered three strokes in the past three years and it’s been really hard on us all to be so far away from her. Good thing mama and papa go back frequently to visit.

“Thanks, nineteen is growing on me then.” The doorbell rings and I check the time. There’s no way that’s the pizza already.

“Memaw, guys, I have to go. I think the pizza is here. I’ll FaceTime you later this weekend after church. Love you!”

“Love you, too. Be safe and lock up the house, baby girl,” Dad reminds me.

“I always do, love you.” They say goodbye and I open the door right as the call ends.

“That was fast… Ben?” Nearly stumbling back and tripping over myself, I’m sure this is a mirage. Ben Cooper is standing on my doorstep and oh my ‘lanta he looks handsome in his skinny ripped jeans that only a rocker could pull off and his leather jacket with his wild hair.

“Expecting someone else?” His smirk widens and I don’t miss the twitch in his eye at the mention of someone else.

“Yeah, I have a hot date with the pizza guy. What are you doing here, Ben? How did you know where I live?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Kate told me and I love pizza, sounds good to me. You gonna invite me in?” I shake my head, rolling my eyes. He’s incorrigible. I make a mental note to ring Kate’s neck.

“No,” I sass, popping my hip and tightening my arms across my chest.

“Well, that’s not nice. Didn’t your mama teach you manners? Aren’t people from the South supposed to be more welcoming?”

“When they feel like the person isn’t a total jerk.”

“Jerk? Ouch. I thought you would invite me in and give me sweet tea and cookies. I was wrong about you Sadie from South Carolina.” He winks, his humor both annoying and funny, giving my palms an extra twitch as I mentally scold myself. I keep my face as straight as possible but crack when he keeps his eyes on me and his smile booming. I chuckle.

“You’re insane. What do you want, Ben?” I laugh.

“Invite me in and I’ll tell you. Please?” Pursing my lips I release a breath and debate it for a few seconds. I should slam the door in his face and send him packing with the knowledge of what his presence can do to my mental health. I ‘bout lost my marbles all day from our small interaction yesterday. Now I’m debating letting him in my house—inviting the enemy in?

“Fine, but if you hit on me or anything of that sort, you’re out.”

“Score! Thanks, beautiful.” He walks around me and my stomach flips, filling with loose flying butterflies. Did he call me beautiful? No man, other than my dad, has ever called me beautiful.

I watch fascinated, as he makes himself right at home without any qualms, waltzing into the living room where I have The Health Channel going and my textbooks open on the couch. He plops down and stacks his feet on top of one another, using my coffee table as his own pedestal.

“Health Channel, health books. You into some kinky shit?” I shake my head and grab the pillow beside me, chucking it at him.

“I said no weird comments!”

“Alright!” He laughs, the throaty sound and his charming white smile, have my tummy dancing again. “I was just teasing, but really, what’s with all this?” He gestures to my things.

“I’m about to graduate with my LPN.”

“Wow. Smart, sassy, beautiful and talented. What else do I not know about you?” Beautiful, there it is again, that foreign word.

“I’m hardly talented. I just like helping people,” I tell him truthfully, sitting crossed legged alongside him. I can’t believe I have a rock star in my living room sitting next to me, just twenty-four hours after he crudely propositioned me for sex. This new Sadie doesn’t even know if she approves of herself.

“Now there is the southern charm.” He squeezes my knee and something happens. My core tightens and dampens. That turned me on—his touch just made my body go all gooey inside. But I ignore it, push it deep and thank my stars he doesn’t know.

“No, that’s Gods work. He put us here to help people and that’s my life mission.”

“Oh, God, that’s right. God.” He says God with distain, throwing me off.

“You’re not religious?”

“No. I don’t believe in that,” Ben states bluntly.

“If you aren’t religious, then who do you thank for your success?” I question, turning into him more, curious now. Somehow sitting here with Ben feels natural, like we know each other well and this is a common night between two good friends. It’s different and what’s more odd is it’s comfortable.

“My hard work. My dedication. My good looks.” He breaks the serious and falls back on humor. I see the shield he puts up and I don’t push further. There is something darker there, something he wants hidden. But just like I have my secrets and my crutches, if you will, I respect his boundaries.

“You’re very full of yourself. I can’t believe women fall for that,” I say standing, moving to the kitchen. “Would you like a water or anything, Ben?” I say over my shoulder.

“Beer.”

“Oh, uh, we don’t drink in this house. I’m sorry. I have soda.” I peer back at him and he nods with a sly, sideways grin. “That’ll do. Your whole family super religious then?” I fill a glass with some ice and pour the soda into a glass.

“Yeah, we are.”

“Hmmm.” Rolling my eyes, I entertain him.

“Hmmm what?” Reappearing from the kitchen, I hand him his drink. Opening my water and taking a sip, I sit back down.

“Nothing, just curious. It never made sense to me.”

“What? Religion?”

“Yeah, religion. It seems fake—unnecessary.”

“I believe in God. I believe in his miracles,” he grunts, taking a sip of his drink.

“What miracles?” he inquires as I drop my head, rubbing my neck. It’s filled with a thousand kinks from studying all day. “Your neck hurt?”

I nod, getting ready to answer his miracles question, when he grabs me by the elbow and yanks me into his arms, cradling me in his lap. I yelp.

“Ben!” Immediately, his hand goes to my neck and he begins to knead the knots, making me forget my words on a loss of breath.

“I’ll rub it out, keep talking. Tell me about these miracles.” My natural reaction is to run the other way, but the sensations are strong and I hate to admit that it actually feels glorious.

“I…I…” I stutter. Looking into his eyes, I get lost seeing all the emotions gathering in his stormy browns.

“Miracles, baby. Tell me about them.” Baby? Am I really here in my house, sitting in his lap, inches from his handsome face? This all overwhelms me but the words come naturally and it’s nearly unstoppable.

“Love. I have seen the power of love in my parents. Or when a new baby is born. When the gunshot victim wakes up from their coma…when mama went into remission,” I whisper the last words, searching his eyes and every detail of his face.

“Your mother had cancer?” he questions and for the first time I see a look that has yet to grace Ben’s face. A look of sadness, empathy, pain.

I look down and he drops his forehead to mine. “Hey, look at me.” Giving him my eyes, I wait for his words clinging to the silent air around us, waiting for something else to latch onto.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, but I’m glad your mother is in remission.” His words are far more genuine than anyone else’s I heard while mom was going through cancer. The same words came from a hundred different people, but the way Ben says them reaches something deeper in me. How is this stranger so far deep into my psych? Into my heart and having me sharing stories of my wounds?

“Thank you.”

“Tell me about them, your parents.” He changes the subject and I snap back into reality. I go to climb out of his lap, giving him a thank you for the rub, but he stops me.

“Stay in my lap, I like you here.” I take a deep breath and smell his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes and it’s surprisingly not repulsive, it’s more unique than anything. I bite my lip and shake my head.

“Really, it’s okay. I don’t want to crush you with my big butt,” I tease, hoping this will set me free. I feel myself growing hot and my core begins to tighten. I’m putting myself in a situation with a stranger who has tempted me like the devil. I need to get away.

“You have a beautiful body, Sadie, not an ounce of complaints on my end. Stay here, talk to me. Besides, you got me feeling something…” I wiggle a bit, staying in place when I realize he isn’t going to let me go.

“What do I make you feel, Ben? I barely know you.”

“That’s the weird thing. I just feel safe with you, like I don’t need anything else but your voice and your conversation to keep me content. It’s like we’re old friends catching up on time lost. This is a new feeling for me.” His words stun me. I thought I was crazy, that I was reading this all wrong and overly indulging myself to him.

“You can get all that from what little we’ve shared?”

“Yeah, I can. You believe in miracles. Maybe your so called God wants us to be this close.”

“You aren’t just trying to get me naked, are you?” I cover my mouth, unable to stop the words once they’ve come out.

“No, Sadie, surprisingly, I’m not trying to fuck you and leave you like every other girl I’ve met.”

“How poetic,” I tease.

“I’m a singer, so I’d think so.”

I’m about to respond when the doorbell rings. Before I can move, he stands from the couch with me in his arms and it does all kinds of things to my insides, turning them to mush. That whole comfortability thing he’s talking about? Yeah, I know it because I’m feeling it too.

“Get some plates, I’ll get the pizza,” he tells me, squeezing my hip, the small touch electrifying.

“Okay, the cash is on the entry table.”

“I’ll pay. I owe it to you for the shit I said yesterday.”

“Ben, really, it’s forgotten. Don’t worry.” I go to move with him to the door, but he steps in front of me, his back to my front.

“Don’t try it, woman.”

“You can’t stop me, I’ll just push you out of the way.” I attempt to swerve around the side of him, but he’s faster. “Ugh, Ben!”

“Move again and I’ll just carry you over my shoulder to the door.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.” He finally turns, challenging me, standing much taller than my short voluptuous frame.

“Challenge accepted.” Before he gets a word in, I duck, moving around him. I about reach the cash when I’m pulled up and into the air, the room around me not in focus as I’m thrown over his shoulder.

“Ben!” I yell, kicking my legs. He slaps my ass, ceasing my movement and making me gulp. No one has ever touched me like that—ever. It frightens me at the same time that it excites me. And the way we are teasing and playing, it’s everything to me. I feel like this is what I’ve been craving to feel and it surprises me that it’s Ben who’s making me feel it.

“Settle down or I’ll smack it again, Sadie, right in front of…” he trails off opening the door. “The nice man named,” he pauses and I hear the pizza guy chuckle.

“Justin,” the man answers.

“The nice man named, Justin.” Somehow he gets his wallet out of his back pocket as I dangle over his shoulder. I would say I’m upset or embarrassed but honestly, I’m having fun. I’ve never felt more alive in my own skin before. I’m always hiding behind my faith and family, and suddenly I realize that I haven’t been living.

He rustles around, then finally says goodbye to the delivery boy. “That was easy.” Placing me down on my feet, I get my balance back and the blood leaves my head where it’s accumulated.

“You’re such a pain. You know that? I should toss you out.” I grab the soda and he follows me into the kitchen.

“I think you liked it, it made you laugh. Now tell me about your parents.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and grab some plates down from the cupboards. Everything is white in the kitchen with light granite and silver appliances. The windows open up to our back yard, sitting on the edge of a small patch of trees. The rain is still coming down, making a light pelting sound against the windows.

“My parents are in South Carolina visiting my memaw Mo. She’s been having health problems.” That’s not what he meant when he asked about my parents, but I’m still feeling him out. I don’t want to tell all my secrets before I know him better.

“That sucks. What’s wrong with her? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Old age. She just can’t get around as fast as she once did before all the strokes. That and she gets overly tired easily. The neighbors help her out a lot, but my parents like to go back once every few months and stay with her for a week or two, sometimes more,” I admit handing him a plate full of pizza.

“Do your parents work? What are their names?”

“Are you playing twenty-one questions because you really want to know? Or are you just bored?”

“Neither. I just want to know about you.”

“Pick up line—that has to be one.”

“Nope, it’s the truth. I don’t lie, it’s against my religion.” He winks at me.

“I don’t know if I want to throw you out or learn more about your lack of social skills.” I throw a piece of pepperoni at him and he catches it in his mouth.

“I have great social skills. You’re just jealous that I have better one liners than you.” He throws a piece of pepperoni back at me and I catch it in my mouth.

“Oh!” We shout in unison. Tonight is turning out to be both fun and odd all at once.

§