The Restoration of All Things (Part 28)

Saturday. The first order of business was coffee. The second order of business was get my booty to the Hanwell's house and tell them about what was going down. I was in trouble. I was falling in love again. Is there no worse a fate than the terrible agony of being in love? I think not.

All that regular sort of trouble that I was bringing upon myself was compounded with the irregular trouble that Joseph was not the sort of guy I usually fell for. Non-Christian, pot-smoking, girlfriend- having.. Girlfriend?! I was a home-wrecker! No. No I wasn't. You can't be a home-wrecker if you have feelings for someone who doesn't have feelings back for you. Then you're just a girl who is falling for the wrong guy.

I moved the second order of business to third, as I decided that the true second order of business was to drive up to the parkway, put my face in the grass, and scream.

When I accomplished those things, I sat on the edge of an overlook by myself and just whispered, "Poppa? Please tell me what to do?"

I waited.

Nothing.

I waited some more.

Still nothing.

Okay then, on to the third order of business.

I drove down from the mountain and to the Hanwell's house. When I walked through the front door, I half expected the sofa to catch fire and tell me what to do. It was a bit shocking when it just sat there all ordinary and room temperature.

Genevieve, Banjo, and Scarlett were home. They heard me out, and then Scarlett put her hand on my shoulder and looked sincerely into my eyes.

"You need to talk to this boy."

"But! But it's haaaaaaaaaaaard." I whined and flopped face first onto the couch. The surprisingly non-ablaze couch.

Everyone agreed that I should speak up. I had to come clean. Joseph had to know all his options. Then he could make a decision about me. About Azalea. Or tell me that Azalea wasn't really his girlfriend. I was still only 88% sure, after all. But what if I puked? Jordan puked when I told him no.

I would definitely puke. I hate puking almost as much as I hate rejection.

My friends would still love me if I didn't tell him. So that settled it. I wasn't telling. I would just... get over him. Yep, that's what I had to do! Easy as pie! Just get over him, and never have to tell him that I was falling for him. Because I would stop falling. Then there would be nothing to tell! Perfect!

That evening I was walking through campus talking to my little brother (affectionately known as Weezle) on the phone on my way to the University Center cafeteria. I was explaining about my feelings and how I was going to stop having them and how Azalea was so sweet. I told him that she wanted to hang out and be friends.

I had just gotten those words out when I heard someone shout my name. I looked up the hill above the sidewalk I was on and saw Joseph careening down the stairs towards me. He caught me up in a great big hug and then said he had to go. He had just seen me and wanted to come say hi.

Azalea was standing at the top of the stairs with her arms crossed, "Joseph! Come ON! We have to go or we'll be late!"

I put the phone back to my ear. Weezle had heard it all.

"Was Azalea with him just now?", he inquired.

"Yeah..."

"Sarah, make no mistake about it. No matter what pretenses that girl is putting on... she hates you right now."

I thought it a distinct possibility that he was correct.

And if she hated me then, I gave her even more reason to hate me the next day.

Sunday. Church night.

I went to Joseph's room to pick him up and he was doodling on his shoes with a set of colorful sharpies. He had become rather well known for his sharpie artwork. I set my stuff down and sat on the floor to chat. At some point he moved from doodling on his shoes to doodling first on my leg,

and then on my arm. As our conversation progressed, so did the colors, shapes, and creatures. By the time the clock said we should be heading in the direction of church, I had a whole sharpie sleeve. It was beautiful. I really loved it. I decided to do my best to leave it on as long as possible.

Genevieve and Jim were taking a date night, so they weren't going to be back for a little while. Church was relatively short and then we all decided to watch Life is Beautiful, because Joseph had never seen it.

I was absolutely a villain that night. The fact that I did what I did was bad enough in and of itself. But I was at church!

We were watching the movie, and Joseph pulled the ol' yawn-stretch-drop-the-arm-around-the-girl's-shoulders move. I didn't scoot away. I was frozen.

Not scooting away wasn't the worst of it. I leaned in, leaving my hand precariously close to his. He then ever so sneakily took hold of my pinky finger.

Hand-holding action. 


I had to be hallucinating.

When Joseph left on his bike, I went to the bathroom and threw water on my face. If this was a dream, I had to wake up! But it wasn't. This was bad! I was meeting with Azalea tomorrow! If she was his girlfriend she would be totally right to feed me to the sharks right about now.

(Continued here)