Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
After church, the congregation spilled out of the front doors, some people heading straight to their cars, others huddling in small groups to talk despite the cold. My head swiveled when someone kicked the back of my shoe. Gabby sauntered to the side of the church. I waited a few seconds to slide away from my family who were chatting with our neighbors, then I meandered in the direction of the parking lot before redirecting to the side of the church.
Gabby wasn’t there, so I continued to the back of building. There she stood with her hands in the pockets of her red wool coat, shoulders by her ears, and cheeks pink from the nippy air. I stopped several feet from her, and she stepped closer. No smile. No movement of her lips. Her right hand slid out of her pocket, and she held up her palm where she’d written words in blue ink.
You’re a jerk.
I read it before looking at her face, and I replied with a slow nod.
She frowned as if my acceptance of her assessment somehow angered her more. Then she removed her other hand, balled into a fist, and opened it to reveal more words on that palm.
Kiss me anyway.
I read it several times before my gaze moved to hers. The corner of her mouth curled into a faint smile. That’s when I should have turned and walked away. I couldn’t kiss my best friend and push her away. It wasn’t fair to give her mixed signals. It also wasn’t fair that she looked so pretty in her white and green dress with a red ribbon around her waist. It wasn’t fair that her lips were freshly glossed with her signature cherry ChapStick. Keeping my hands in my pockets, to keep things from getting out of hand, I bent down and kissed her.
Again, she didn’t play fairly. As I started to pull away, her cold hands touched my cheeks, and she lifted onto her toes, pressing her chest into mine. I told my hands to stay put. No touching. Just wait it out and she’d release me. But she didn’t. Gabby’s tongue teased my upper lip. It was cruel.
What happened to the good girl who never would have made out with a guy in her Sunday best behind her father’s church? I wanted to say that I missed that girl, but it was hard with her lips on me.
The kiss ended when said lips lifted into a beaming smile. I wanted nothing more than to feel her warmth forever. She signed something with her hands.
I shook my head. “I told you I don’t know sign language.”
She shrugged before sauntering back toward the front of the church, tossing me a flirty grin over her shoulder at the last second.
I was terminally lovesick.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THURL RAVENSCROFT, “YOU’RE A MEAN ONE, MR. GRINCH”
Gabby
I caved.
Armed with the best intentions of giving Ben the cold shoulder, I tried not to look back at him during the service. After all, he didn’t deserve anything from me after how he treated me over Thanksgiving and not responding to any of my letters. Then I made the mistake of taking a peek at him, and he looked so handsome in his suit. He also looked sad and lost.
Why did his parents make him attend church when he couldn’t hear the music or the sermon? As soon as the question popped into my head, I let it spark a little hope that maybe he was there to see me. By the time I sneaked a half dozen unnecessary glances in his direction, my need to hug and kiss him was unbearable, so I wrote two messages on the palms of my hands.
His kiss didn’t disappoint. Ben was either a spectacular kisser (even better than Matt) or I was biased.
“It was nice seeing Ben at church,” Mom said as we ate Sunday dinner with Grandma Bonnie.
I wrinkled my nose at Mom’s oyster soup. Was I being punished? She knew I hated it. “Yeah. I’m sure he enjoyed sitting in silence for forty-five minutes, watching Dad’s lips move and his hands make a bunch of gestures. I mean, Dad…” I grinned “…if you’re going to use your hands so much when you talk, then you should learn sign language.”
Dad wiped his mouth. “Does Ben know sign language? The last time I talked with Alan, he said Ben wasn’t interested in learning it.”
I fished all the oysters out of my soup. “Well, I’ve been learning it, so I’m going to teach him.”
Everyone at the table returned skeptical expressions.
“Since when?” Mom asked.
“Since Ben dropped out of school. It’s a community education class I found in Ann Arbor. It’s three nights a week.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mom narrowed her eyes.
“I wanted it to be a surprise, mostly for Ben. But that’s when I thought he would learn it. So when I was home over Thanksgiving and I found out he was not surprised or impressed that I’d been learning it, I lost my enthusiasm over telling anyone else. I didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me that I wasted time and money on it. But now since …”