Fall

My heart sunk. So that was it. I was still a hormonal teenager in Jaymeson’s eyes, a plaything. A friend, but not his equal, never his equal.

“What if I want him to?” I shrugged innocently. “I’m eighteen. I’m not a child, and you guys can’t stop me. Thanks for the warning though. I’ll be sure to bring my pepper spray in case he pulls down his pants.”

They winced.

“After all, I’m so innocent to the ways of the world. We don’t want the nice pastor’s daughter getting taken advantage of on the beach.”

I shook my head and walked toward the door. “Have a nice night, boys. I know I will.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jaymeson

I watched Pris leave. I was drowning with worry, as she took steps away from me and toward him.

“Is he bad news?” I asked Evan. “Tell me the truth.”

Evan was silent a minute then shook his head. “I wouldn’t say he’s bad news. He’s just used to getting what he wants.”

“And he wants Pris,” I said dryly.

“It would appear so.” Evan yawned. “But I wouldn’t worry. I mean, he just broke up with his last girlfriend. It’s not like he’s going to want to jump into anything.”

“Is that code for he‘s going to go slow with Pris?”

“No offense.” Evan held up his hands. “But should you really throw stones in that glass house of yours?”

I ground my teeth together. “I don’t screw virgins — or take advantage of them.”

Evan’s eyes widened. “So that’s what’s bothering you?” He burst out laughing. “Wow, do the guys know?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Evan’s smile grew wider. “That you’re obsessed with the local pastor’s daughter. Wow, that’s awesome. You want her but can’t have her? How’s it feel? I mean, have you ever even faced rejection before?”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Glaring at him, I changed the subject.

“Nope.” He pointed to the boxes. “But you do. So work, bitch. I have some forms to fill out.”

“Great.”

“And Jaymeson?”

I looked up.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s not like Smith has the same background you do. He doesn’t screw girls for sport. If there’s anyone you should be worried about, it’s yourself.”

Ouch. “What the hell, man?” The guy barely knew me.

He shrugged. “There’s nothing worse than wanting something you can’t have. It’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull.”

“I do possess self control,” I seethed. “Believe me, I’ve been doing nothing but exercising that self control for the past week!”

“My point exactly.” Evan picked up his sword from the floor. “Pretty soon you’re going to run out, then what happens?”

My entire body deflated as the breath left my body.

“Right.” He gave a firm nod. “I’ll be in back if you need me.”

I smacked the countertop with my palm. I could do it. I had to do it. Because she deserved better, though I wasn’t totally convinced better was Smith. At least she was dating someone who could give her what she needed.

And that someone? Not me.

A scowl pinched my forehead as I started unpacking the boxes. Three hours later, they were emptied, and I was tempted to burn secondhand donations. People really didn’t know how to give good stuff. A lot of the things had to be tossed because they either couldn’t be cleaned or they were partially used.

I grabbed the last empty box and started to pull it apart when I noticed a twenty-dollar bill at the bottom.

Pris must have accidently dropped it, either that or someone wanted to make a donation to the church.

I explained to Evan that I was taking a break and drove over to the church to drop off the bill. Ridiculous that my heart sank when I didn’t notice Pris’s car in the parking lot.

With a grunt, I got out of my car and walked briskly through the doors, this time not pausing under the light — you know, just in case it decided to fall on me again.

“Hello?” I called.

I heard talking toward the end of the hall where the office was located. Sighing, I headed in that direction, but stopped when I heard crying.

“No, I understand, pastor.” More sniffling. “It’s just, are you sure there’s not enough money to fix it?” She stopped talking, her agitated breathing the only sound for a few moments.

When she spoke again, she sounded defeated. “I see. No, but, surely if you tell the church members they’ll want to help.” More silence. “I know times are tough but maybe if you explain—” She let out a heavy sigh. “So where will Pris stay? You can’t sell the house in that condition.”

More sniffling followed. “Alright, sir. I’ll keep an eye on her until you return. I’ll sport my best smile, but know that I don’t agree. Not one bit. Nothing wrong with asking for help. Yes, well you have a good evening as well.”

When I was sure the conversation was over, I rounded the corner and walked into the brightly-lit office.

“Oh, hello.” The lady smiled, wiping stray tears from underneath her eyes. “Sorry, allergies. How can I help you?”

I gave her a kind smile and approached her desk. “This was in one of the donation boxes, I wasn’t sure if it was Pris’s or if someone was donating money to the church, so I thought I’d drop it off.” I slid the twenty-dollar bill across the desk.