Untypically in Love: Cornered

Read the full story, chapter by chapter here.

Some names and events have been changed to protect the identity of certain individuals.

---------------------

Chapter Seventeen
Cornered

I would have been happy to hide in the back of the room, secretly holding Matt's hand for comfort, but the class was small enough that only two rows of seats were even needed. There was no hiding from anything. Especially since the teacher made a point to have me introduce myself to the class.

During the lesson Matt and I wrote notes to one another in a small notebook I had brought with me (a tradition that still goes on today). Every now and again something in the lesson would strike me and I'd look up, suddenly intrigued. 

"Jia," the teacher called my name. "Would you please read Ephesians 4:32?" 

I panicked and tried my best to remember how to look through the scriptures. A girl beside me had her book open and handed it to me, being kind enough to point down at the exact verse, saving me embarrassment. I cleared my throat and read aloud, "And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you." 

"Now what does that mean to you?" She asked me.

All eyes (those that were paying attention) turned to me.


I closed the book and handed it back to the girl to my left, contemplated a moment and looked up. "It means you have to forgive people." 


"Yes dear," She smiled. "But what does it mean to you? Personally?" She asked me.

I looked up, my eyes turned to Josh and I quickly looked away. "I don't know." I said. "Forgiveness seems pretty important though."


Throughout the rest of the lesson every so often I would turn my attention to Josh, whose gaze never met my own. I couldn't look into my friends eyes once. I couldn't see anything. Couldn't make any assumptions to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. But at that moment, I knew I needed forgiveness.

Class dispersed after a short bell rang. Just before leaving, the teacher removed a small cloth that had been covering three small loaves of zucchini bread. One single bite was all it took to have me clear out my schedule for the following Sunday, in order to return - if for only the recipe.


I expected Matt to lead me to our next class or meeting, but he dropped my hand in the middle of the hallway as his mother approached with a grin.


"How was Sunday School?" She asked me.


"Educational." I smiled back.


"I'll see you in an hour." Matt said and then turned away, walking off with a group of boys in one direction just as I saw the herd of girls coming my way.


"What?" I panicked.


"For the third hour we separate. The older women go to Relief Society, and the younger girls like us," Sister Woodruff laughed. "Go to Young Women." She pointed. "I'd normally be in Relief Society, but I'm the secretary for the Young Women's Presidency." She said, patting a large bag she had brought with her, within it a massively large binder with a bright pink cover.


I felt nauseous. I hated being around other girls. I especially hated being around strangers without some sort of comfort zone. Matt was supposed to be that comfort zone for me today, and he had recklessly abandoned me without even a heads up. I had wanted to sit in the back of the room, hiding, but Matt's mother patted the seat beside her that was in the front row off to the left side of the room.

I sat down and looked around the room as girl after girl filed in, each looking in my direction as they took their own seats, chatting away with one another as girls so often did.

When the class began, the girls stood and recited a statement that they called a theme. Talking about things like faith, knowledge and integrity to name a few. If I took this simple information I received by coming to Church with Matt's family, it was easy to see why his parents reacted the way they had when they caught me sneaking out of his window. They were supposed to forgive. They were supposed to act in kindness.

"I see we have a visitor today," I heard the dreaded words come from the mouth of a short brunette woman with a bright smile on her face.

Oh no, I was going to have to introduce myself again?

Thankfully, Matt's mother didn't even give me the option.

"This is Matt's friend, Jia." She introduced me and I breathed a sigh of relief. "She's investigating the Church."

The final words of her statement seemed odd. Mormon jargon. Certainly I had come and wanted to learn more, but investigating sounded like I was there on business. Little did I know, the one word meant so very, very much. Investigating. The very echo of it practically flew throughout the entire Church building, where I assume on the other side, two young missionaries perked their ears up and said, 'Elder, did you hear that?'

I didn't pay much attention, and by my guess, neither did many of the other girls. But they talked about things like dating, having dignity, and the blessings of eternal marriage. I took note of those things. The woman who taught our class showed pictures of her wedding and my eyes were glued to the massive white castle they stood in front of.

"It's beautiful," I smiled.

"It's the Bountiful, Utah Temple." She replied, showing me a larger picture of her and her husband, where the temple was in full view.


"Kinda looks like the big building in downtown Salt Lake." I said. A few girls chuckled behind me.

"Exactly." The teacher smiled. "There are lots of temples," I was informed. "Almost one hundred in fact. We're getting our own temple here in Albuquerque next year."

The level of excitement in the room was confusing. What was the big deal over one building?

Class ended and Matt's mother confirmed that Church was indeed over. I half expected another surprise class waiting around the corner, but the only thing I saw as I followed Sister Woodruff, was two missionaries. Waiting.

Waiting for us.

"Hi," The shorter of the two said, reaching his arm out straight to me, shaking my hand before bringing his own back to adjust the large glasses on his face. "You must be Jia. Sister Woodruff has told us a lot of great things about you." 

I smiled politely. "Oh I doubt that," I laughed.

"She said you're interested in learning more about the Church?" The other spoke up.

"Well, yeah I guess." I shrugged. "That's why I'm here right?" I smiled. No, I certainly wasn't there to try and suck up to Matt's parents in order to continue seeing him. Not at all!

"That's great!" Their enthusiasm was confusing me. "Well if you'd like to know more, we'd love to teach you about the Church." They said. "Do you have time after school for us to come to your house and we could talk?"

"Give me lessons?" I asked, putting pieces together.

"Exactly." They smiled.

I recalled the lessons I had received with missionaries at my sisters home. The lessons they had supposedly been there to give her.

"Can I ask," I paused. "Do you give these lessons to members of your Church too?"

Suddenly the young men seemed confused. "Not usually," they answered, not certain enough to give a firm answer. "Mostly missionaries talk to people who aren't members, but would like to know more about the Church."

My eyes went wide open. Tricked! I had been tricked! My sister had been a Mormon for ten years at least! She had lied to me about having missionaries there to teach her! They had come to teach me! I laughed out loud a little, mentally preparing to punish my sister for her devious, yet successful, plan.


"So when would be a good time to come over?" They asked.

A part of me wanted to brush them off. It wasn't that I didn't want to learn. But I didn't like being around strangers. I didn't like awkward conversations where questions were mostly directed at me. Especially since I didn't feel I knew the answers.

I also imagined what it would be like inviting these poor missionaries into my home. My home where my family might poke fun, or tease. I didn't want to do that. "Oh well, my aunt and uncle both work. They're not really home until late." I said, trying to let them down easy.

"Well then you can just have the lessons at our house." Sister Woodruff proclaimed.

I turned and realised that there was no escape. Literally. My back was pressed against the wall behind me. Two excited missionaries to my right, and Matt's mother standing to my left, all three waiting for an answer. What was I going to say? No?

"Sure?" I answered weakly, my voice cracking.

"That's great!" The two men said in unison as they pulled out their calendars and began working a schedule up with Sister Woodruff while I began searching for a way out, eager for fresh air.

Matt came around the corner after his class was let out, and as he saw me talking to missionaries, the expression on his face changed and he looked like he was ready to laugh. Without me ever needing to say a word, he knew what had just taken place.

"Missionaries are gonna teach me stuff," I said nervously, approaching him.

"I see that." He smiled smugly.

"Gonna teach you too," Matt's Mom said, looking over her shoulder at her son.

"What?" His face dropped. The humor in the situation fading fast.

"Jia's coming to our house to be taught and I think it would be a good experience for you to be there with her. You might learn a thing or two yourself." She gave him a stern motherly glance as she said the words.

"This isn't funny anymore," Matt said to me.

I grinned. "It's a little funny now." 

>>> Chapter Eighteen

Untypically in Love: Religion is Exhausting

Read the full story, chapter by chapter here.

Some names and events have been changed to protect the identity of certain individuals.

---------------------

Chapter Sixteen
Religion is Exhausting

"Shut up," I said to Kristine as she teased me about the outfit I bought to wear to Church. My shoes didn't match and the white blouse I bought that summer no longer fit. I had to wear a long black sweater over my black skirt instead. It was August in New Mexico and the temperature that day read somewhere between 88 degrees and Hell.

"I think you look cute." She said. "What're you going to do with your hair?" She asked.

I looked in the mirror at my hair, cherry red. On the one day I wanted to blend into the background, I would stand out like a sore thumb. A sore, bright cherry red, thumb. "This is going to suck." I moaned as I threw half of my hair back in a small clip. I contemplated makeup and in the end decided to avoid it all together. A little lip gloss would go a long way today.

"Don't you need a bible or something?" She continued to poke the bear hidden inside of me.

"Do I look like I've done this before?" I asked her as I quickly removed the sweater, tossing a few splashes of cold water under my arms before putting it back on.

Suddenly I heard the doorbell. "Oh shit." I panicked.

"I don't think you're supposed to say 'shit' on Sundays." Kristine laughed.

"I don't think you're supposed to say it ever." I corrected her.

"I can't wait to hear stories about when you drop an F bomb in Church." She added before ducking into her room and locking the door behind her.

I was miserable. Just plain miserable. I was hot and sweaty. I was nervous and nauseous. I was tired and pissed off and there was not a single thing on the surface of the entire world that was going to make this day any better.

I opened the door.

"Matt in a suit," My eyes fell heavy and I grinned. "You look all spiffy." I said as I closed the front door behind me.

"You're gorgeous." He grinned and leaned in, kissing me once.

I gasped as he did, quickly turning to look for his parents car, which was in my driveway, but forward just enough to keep prying eyes away from once adolescent moment of pure bliss.

The drive to the Church was less than five minutes. I'd never noticed the building before that was on the way toward the mall. We pulled into a packed parking lot, large families exiting cars, vans, station wagons and SUVs. Each well dressed from the fathers in black suits, mothers in dresses and high heels, teenage sons in white shirts and ties, and the little children . . . miniature versions of the rest of their family.

"I don't blend in," I mumbled sadly to Matt as he held my door open, looking around as a family of walked by, each blonde daughter wore either pink or blue pastel. Two of them glanced at me, confused looks on their faces. Had we been anywhere other than Church, I would have asked them what they were looking at before shoving whichever was the smallest of the two.

"You could never blend in," Matt grinned at me.

We walked inside the building and two young men held the door open for us. Everyone began filing into a large room that seemed familiar. The one at my sisters Church was significantly bigger, but she had told me that in Utah they had to be that way to support so many members. In New Mexico there wasn't quite as many people, but shockingly there was enough that room had to be expanded and folding chairs added to provide seating for an overflow of people.

We sat six rows up from the front of the room where a raised seating area faced us. Three men in black suits sat conversing with one another, and to their left, three teenage boys, a year or two older than us, sat behind a white tablecloth, each adjusting it, making sure it looked perfect. A woman and her husband sat at a large organ, and on the other side of the podium in the center, sat a tall man in his early fifties, a younger woman in her late twenties, and a girl who appeared about thirteen or fourteen years old.

Soft music played as people gathered in, taking their seats and chattering with one another. Everything was buzzing around me. I didn't understand much of what was going on. When I had gone with my sister, we only stayed for twenty minutes, having arrived ten minutes late and left ten minutes early due to my niece getting sick. I had seen a partial moment of a detailed expedition, and I had taken in nothing. Even my meeting the missionaries in Utah had not prepared me. I hadn't listened. I didn't remember them saying anything other than asking questions that I often ignored or turned into complaints.

The music stopped and the room fell mostly silent as a shorter man, the middle of the three in suits, stood and made his way to the podium. A whirring noise could be heard as the stand was lowered for him to be able to look over. He was small in stature, but his smile reached to the end of the room and back. 

"Welcome Brothers and Sisters," He spoke.

"That's the Bishop." Matt spoke. "He's in charge."

"Like a priest?" I asked.

"Kind of. That's the Bishops family right there," Matt pointed three rows ahead of us where a brunette woman sat in the center of a row surrounded by six children.

Matt answered most of my questions. I wanted to know many things. 

"We'd like to release Sister Jensen as a Primary worker. All those who can give Sister Jensen a vote of thanks, please do so with the uplifted hand." Bishop spoke.

Suddenly, every right hand in the room rose up in unison. I blinked, realizing I had apparently missed something, and quickly rose my hand up as everyone else brought theirs down. Just as quick, I pulled my hand back into my lap. "What did I just agree to?" I asked, confused.

Matt chuckled softly.

We sang songs, listened to talks - which were much different than the few times I had gone to a Nazarene Church with my aunt Debbie. There was no pastor who preached. It seemed the members were the ones who taught one another. And everyone cried. Everyone.

We also ate bread. Or at least, everyone else did. The young men behind the white table cloth pulled it back, revealing small trays full of bread, and others with tiny cups of water. Everyone lowered their heads and one of the boys spoke a prayer. I listened to the words. My eyes remained open. Sacred words. Promises. Blessings. This was serious, sacred, special.

The tray came to our row and I took it and handed it to Matt, not taking from it myself. I wasn't Mormon. It didn't feel right. I had made no promises. I didn't understand the symbolism of what was happening. Partaking of it would feel wrong.

A closing prayer about twenty minutes later and we all stood. "Oh good," I breathed a sigh of relief. "Not sure how much longer I could sit." I chuckled.

Matt smiled at me and remained silent. "Come on, I'll take you to Sunday School."

My face fell. "There's more?"

He laughed. "Just two more hours."

"Just?!"

We separated from Matt's parents and walked down the hallway where everyone dispersed to separate rooms here and there. Adults went one way, small children another, and the rest of us were divided according to our ages. Matt reached out and took my hand and I smiled, finally feeling comfortable in this strange new place.

We walked into the room where folding chairs had been set around a table, behind that a large chalk board where a tall gray haired woman wrote the word, 'Forgiveness' in large letters with yellow chalk. As I turned to take a seat, I noticed several people our age, some of whom had been in a few of my classes. 

And one I recognized immediately.

Sitting in the corner next to an open window, was Josh.

>>> Chapter Seventeen

Untypically in Love: That Kind of Girl

Read the full story, chapter by chapter here.

Some names and events have been changed to protect the identity of certain individuals.

---------------------

Chapter Fifteen
That Kind of Girl

Against my better judgment, I crawled back inside the window when Matt's mother asked us both to join her in the living room. My fight or flight response had completely kicked in and my legs were begging me to just jump out the window and make a mad dash as quickly as I could. But I didn't. I swallowed down the dramatic urge to throw up from nerves, and I came back inside.

It wasn't the best situation. The boy I loved more than anything in the world had finally introduced me to his parents as they caught me climbing out of his bedroom window. I knew how it looked. But I still didn't fully understand what the big deal was. I didn't understand why I needed to hide or try to run away to begin with. What was the big deal? We hadn't been doing anything.

I found myself seated beside Matt on the living room couch, my forehead pouring down sweat in buckets. It was too quiet as his parents conversed in the other room before joining us. The suspense was killing me inside. I could feel my nerves being eaten away every moment that passed. 

This was unfamiliar territory in so many ways. I'd never been caught in a boys bedroom before. I had made assumptions about what to expect though, in the few minutes that I had to contemplate the worst case scenarios. Matt's parents would certainly yell, scream and then throw me out. I'd never be welcomed into their home again. Matt would certainly be forbidden from ever seeing or speaking to me again. 

It was all over. I knew it.

Matt's father took a seat in the chair a few feet away, leaning back, remaining silent. I'd never seen such a thing. In my family, when you got in trouble, you knew it immediately because the volume increased dramatically. No one ever sat down quietly, contemplating words before they were spoken.

Matt's mother pulled a chair and sat directly in front of us. I gulped down hard, unable to look her in the eye. Unable to speak. Matt did all the talking.

"She hadn't been here for more than a few minutes. She just came by to see if I wanted to hang out." He admitted.

"You know better than to have a girl in your room." She said sternly.

"I know." He sighed.

I was terrified. I wanted to reach out and take his hand. Maybe if we were connected, the two of us - unified - would overcome whatever punishment was about to be handed out.

Finally, her brown eyes turned toward me and I sunk deep into the couch as my heart rapidly beat itself up into my throat. I hoped she wouldn't ask me to speak. There was a very good chance I was going to be sick all over the living room.

"You don't want to be a girl known for having a reputation of climbing out of boys bedrooms, do you?" She asked me, the anger in her voice being replaced by something unfamiliar to me. 

"No Ma'am." I replied quick, my voice shaking.

"You don't want to be that kind of girl. Boys don't respect a girl like that, and neither does anyone else." She added.

That kind of girl. Was I that kind of girl?

I thought about the boys I dated before. Mistakes I had made. Hurt feelings. Broken hearts. I realised that until this exact moment I'd never even really had a conversation with the mother of any of my ex boyfriends. Most of their parents didn't care who they dated, where they went or what they did.

"What's your phone number?" She asked me, grabbing a pen and paper. I gave it to her without even thinking, having no idea what she would need it for. Possibly to screen for it later, demanding that no one answer anytime I called from this point forward.

"What for?" Matt asked.

"I'm going to call her parents." She replied.

I gulped down. "I don't have any."

Her attention turned back to me with confusion.

My words caught in my throat. "I live with my aunt and uncle. My Mom died."

And like the guardian angel my mother always had been, she might have been my saving grace in this very moment as I sat, awaiting emotional execution. 

Matt's mother paused for a moment, her face growing soft. She exhaled loudly, and folded the paper in her hand. "What's your aunts name?" She asked me.

"Paula." 

She mentally noted it and then changed the subject again. "In our family, we don't allow our kids to date until they are sixteen." And there it was. Our relationship was over. I'd never see Matt again. "But.."

There was a 'but'?!

"But I know the two of you are very good friends, and you're welcome to come over anytime you want," She added. "As long as we're home as well." 

It felt like a trick. A trap that was being set. There was no way people could be this kind and understanding. Certainly once I stepped foot out the door they'd laugh and then lock Matt in a closet somewhere. No other explanation made sense. How could they catch me crawling out his window and then welcome me into their home with forgiveness just like that?

"Do you go to Church, Jia?" She asked me.

"No Ma'am." I shook my head. "I mean, I went once, this summer with my sister. She lives in Utah."

And just like that, one simple keyword: Utah, had set a path in motion. 

"Well how about you come to Church with us this Sunday?" She asked me, a sudden, strange smile on her face. "And afterward you're invited to dinner as well." She turned and looked at Matt's father, who seemed to acknowledge his mild approval of her decision, though he remained silent, a newspaper now in hand, his attention directed away from the scene playing before him.

I turned my head and looked at Matt, who seemed just as shocked as I was, though a look in his eyes made him appear a little more educated on what was happening than I could have ever guessed. 

"Sure." I agreed. "I think I have a dress." I added. The only appropriate one I had. It came down to my knees and had thin straps over the shoulders. My older sister had helped me pick out a short sleeved white button up blouse to go over it when I went to Church with her, as she said it looked more appropriate.

"Alright, we'll pick you up Sunday morning." She smiled and stood up. "Steven," She looked to Matt's father. "Can you take Jia home?"

My eyes widened. I was being offered a ride home? I stood up instinctively and turned to Matt, wanting to hug and kiss him goodbye, but suddenly a great big invisible wall had been created between the two of us. It would remain there any moment his parents were ever in the same room with us.

Matt and his mother both walked me out. "It's nice to finally meet you," his mother said, though half her words almost seemed sarcastic, as though she were silently telling me that she wished it had been under better circumstances. I agreed with her.

"It was nice to meet you too Mrs. Woodruff." I gave a timid smile.

"Sister Woodruff." She corrected me.

The ride home with Matt's father, Brother Woodruff, was completely silent, though I hadn't expected any different. I gave directions and once we arrived, I stepped out and turned back to thank him. He gave me a very small smile and nodded his head before I closed the door and watched him drive away.

I stood in my driveway after the van left my sight, and I brought my hand over to my forearm, pinching a fold of skin tightly. "Ow." I mumbled. "Nope. Not dreaming." I muttered and then walked into the house. I could smell stuffed peppers cooking in the kitchen. My favourite meal. Though I was still feeling slightly nauseated from the whole experience of meeting Matt's parents.

"Hey," my aunt called to me as I began walking to my room. "Matt's mom just called me."

Sister Woodruff, I thought to myself.

"Yeah, I gave her the number." I replied.

"She said you were over at there house in Matt's room." Paula said. "What did she need to call me for?" She asked.

"I'm not sure yet." I mumbled. "They're . . . different." I started to walk away but then paused and turned back around. "Hey, can we go shopping this week? I need some new clothes."

"I just bought you new clothes for school." Paula said as she bent down, pot holder in hand as she pulled the casserole dish from the oven. 

"Yeah, but I need dresses." I added, walking into the kitchen. "I need . . . church clothes." I clarified.

Slowly, she turned her head to stare at me, mouth nearly falling open. Sarcasm was getting ready to drip from her mouth, as an amused look fell on her face. Her niece was going to go to Church? This same niece that proclaimed at age twelve that she was a witch and once set the trash can in her bedroom on fire because she was playing with candles? This same niece that stole books from her Middle School library and got caught smoking in the stairwell?

"Not a word." I cautioned her. "Not one single word."

>>> Chapter Sixteen

Better Off Red

Did you miss me? No? I get it. You all have lives and I'm just this strange chick that pops up on your computer every once in a while to talk about how she never wears a bra in public, lets her pants fall down way too often and names her appliances. To be fair, you people have a problem if you're hanging out with the likes of me.

Seek help.

So remember that whole "I'm giving up the internet" thing? Yeah, guess how long that lasted? A week and a half, which to be fair, is pretty much a record in this house. If the power goes out for a split second and my modem won't reconnect immediately I usually begin having panic attacks. But it's back on. I'm home now. I'm here to soothe your very strange needs for personal information about my life, fart jokes and you complete weirdos who have turned my personal love story into the new Twilight. I expect one of you to start selling "Team Matt" and "Team Josh" shirts any day now.

Speaking of you Untypical Addicts, I'll have the new chapter up within a few days. Making some minor adjustments and digging into my old journals, pulling out long repressed memories.

Want to know what I've done in the meantime without the internet? Well you all know that I've taken inspiration from my dear friend Eva.... I've made a promise to myself this year. To be a happier, a livelier, a not so afraid of the world Jia.

"Blondes are wild, brunettes are true,but you never know just what a redhead will do!"

Well this redhead got back to her roots!

 I'm living again. I'm Jia again. I'm no longer afraid to paint the town (and my hair) bright red! I wear red lipstick because I demand to be noticed. I am no longer going to hide in the corner of the room. I will dance and sing and make a fool out of myself because it's fun! And I will laugh.

I'm still me. I'm digging up the old me, taking the current me and mixing it into some weird concoction (that by all nature probably should contain liquor) and creating a new me. A beautiful me.

Did you know that it takes a lot for me to think that I'm pretty? I have always had such strange self esteem issues, all associated with my weight of course. But the Flab to Fab weight loss is now over. And I gained two pounds. An injured knee and stress will do that to a girl. But you know what I learned during this process? 

I am beautiful. I am gorgeous. I am sexy! 

The other girls in the competition were so pretty, despite the fact that they were in a weight loss challenge. So what was wrong with me? How could all these full figured girls, with beautiful faces and curves pull off sexy but I couldn't?

It's all in the mind. And that roadblock is being torn down.

Birthday Wishes

"I can't believe how many birthday messages you got today on facebook." My mother in law said to me as we dined at Olive Garden for my birthday dinner.

I want to thank all of you for your birthday wishes yesterday, it made my day! I had a wonderful birthday, which was the plan. My husband made me breakfast in bed and then my aunt and baby sister took me out to lunch. Speaking of my little sister, she finds out the sex of her baby in a few days!

Afterwards I came home and played Taboo and Scattergories with Matt and Josh. Matt and I then went and renewed the lease on our apartment, which is really, finally starting to feel like home. It was a calm and relaxing birthday, where we didn't do much but it was just enough. By far one of the best birthdays I've had in a very long time.

Changes in Attitude and Activities

Do y'all remember this week when I promised to be more positive, to live life and love? Well since my birthday is tomorrow, this change must officially take place now. Why? Because I no longer have an internet connection.

Calm down. I know. I know.

We let our cable bill run its course and yesterday I said to Matt, "Just let it go."

I've always said we rely too much on television and the computer to get us through the day. I'll freely admit that there have been days where dishes have gone unwashed because Facebook was calling to me. And the idea of thinking up activities without television is not only difficult, but can apparently quickly spark an argument. So for now we've chosen to let it go and see what happens.

The internet is still available to me. Either through my phone, or public computers. But now I will be forced to use my time wisely. And choose words carefully.

Which brings me to my next goal: to be more positive.

I was looking at my Facebook updates since the beginning of the year and with the exception of anything blog related, the majority of my updates are complaints about my health, my negative self image, anxiety and being tired.

No more!

26 will be a positive Jia! A Jia who functions a little better and does not click the refresh button more than the start button on the dishwasher.

Below are graphs I made showing my Facebook negativity.

Untypically in Love: Quick Exits - Poor Intros

Read the full story, chapter by chapter here.

Some names and events have been changed to protect the identity of certain individuals.

---------------------

Chapter Fourteen
Quick Exits - Poor Intros

I was in a full panic the whole plane ride home. The fact that I drank a glass of tomato juice followed by a can of ginger ale didn't help my nervous stomach. But it wasn't the plane ride I was nervous about. I was worried about going home, seeing Matt and finding out if anything had changed between us.

I exited the plane, throwing my backpack over my shoulder as I scanned the airport for my aunt Paula, who was picking me up. The flight attendants were helping my Grandmother with her wheelchair when I spotted Kristine across the aisle. And standing next to her was my tall dark haired gorgeous boy.

Only he wasn't so dark haired this time.

In a spontaneous moment, Matt had bleached his head. An act he would repeat about once every three years or so, usually just to bother me and stink up our house with the smell of ammonia.

I didn't care though. He was still my Matt.

I dropped my bags and rushed into him, nearly knocking him over as I leaped into his open arms, releasing a breath I'd been holding all summer long.

"I can't believe you're here." I sighed.

"Me?" He laughed. "You're the one that left." He grinned and kissed me.

That kiss.

Dreaming of that exact kiss was what kept me going the whole summer. That very moment. And it didn't disappoint.

Matt carried our bags back to the car, and I took a nap on the ride home, leaning against his shoulder in the back seat. When we got home, Matt was able to hang out for a few hours. Hours that were spent talking about what happened during our separation.

I told him that I had gone to Church once with my older sister, and I met with missionaries.

He told me that when he went to Church, Josh wouldn't speak to him.

Not much had changed since I left.

School was starting soon, and just as Matt left, Megaera arrived to dye our hair as previously planned in defiance of the schools new uniform policy. Khaki, hunter green or navy blue. But the color of our hair was up to us. While Megaera went with a deep purple, I went with almost cherry red.

On the first day of school, Matt and I walked hand in hand, looking over our new schedules. Not a single class together. Our first period would be spent in the counselors office to remedy this great injustice. I would end up sacrificing a humanities class with Megaera to switch into Matt's fourth period, and he would move over to my geometry class. He also made a very daring move of commitment - by joining my second period dance class.

I felt a little guilty. After all, I wasn't sacrificing much to be with him at this point.

"Ah, you must be Jessica." My new humanities teacher said when I walked into the room.

"Jia." I corrected him.

"Well, Jia," He said. "Why don't you take a seat."

I turned, eager to find my place beside Matt. Of course that's when I saw them. Two rows away from where Matt was sitting were not one, but two of my ex's. My eyes widened and nostrils flared as I looked and saw JC, the gorilla of a boyfriend I had shortly before Josh. The one who'd lose his temper, black out and accidentally knock his fists into me anytime I got too close. And sitting near him was Stew. The cheater who had dated my younger sister after I broke up with him.

I turned and nearly glared at Matt, as though he knew this information. But I couldn't be mad. I would use it to my advantage. The boys who broke my heart (not that they had it to begin with) would see how happy I was with my new - and much more attractive - boyfriend.

Matt would enjoy the class too. He spent countless hours ridiculing Stew, who was sixteen years old at the time, for dating fourteen year olds. As for JC it seemed monkey references were all that was needed to keep him crying. Matt was a master at making my ex's feel like dirt.

Every now and then I'd avoid the bus by walking home. Some days were harder to be around Josh than others. One such day our eyes met as I stepped on the bus. I sighed, that familiar guilt rising in my throat as he turned away from my gaze. Two steps backwards and I was off the bus. 

"You getting on?" The driver asked.

"Gonna walk home, I think." I said and turned away, putting my sneakers into the sand of the New Mexican mesa and headed home.

As I passed several familiar streets I realised that Matt's house was nearby. He'd be home by now for certain, and stopping by to see him face to face would be much better than calling him an hour later after getting home. So I made several detours and found myself standing in his driveway with a grin.

His parents large van wasn't there, but I didn't think anything of it. My aunt and uncle were almost never home as both of them worked. I naturally assumed Matt's parents had a similar arrangement. 

"Hey sexy," I grinned as he opened the door.

"What're you doing here?" He smiled and leaned outside to kiss me.

"Walked home. Thought I'd drop in and see if you wanted to go hang out."

"Well, I'm watching some kids that my Mom babysits. But I can probably get out later on." 

"Alright," I sighed. "I guess call me then?"

Just then, a massively large red-coated boxer puppy pushed his way between Matt's legs to look at me.

"Get back Chewie," Matt said.

"Oh my gosh! He's adorable!" I screamed, reaching out to pet him. At home we only had four yapping little Shi-Tzus that my aunt used for breeding. I'd always wanted a big dog.

"Well," Matt paused. "Come on in." He said hesitantly. "You can play with him for a minute. Besides, there's a CD I bought you over the summer that I keep forgetting to bring to school."

I stepped into the small house and smiled at the small boy who was playing on the carpet in front of a tv. The boxer pup greeted me personally, shoving a wet muzzle into my hand. I knelt down and ran my hand over the top of his cone shaped head with a grin as he snorted into my palm.

A dog next door barked, and suddenly the boxer darted away from me, nearly tripping on his own feet before he bolted out a dog door in the back of the house. I stood up and looked around. It was very homey and lived in. My house was stark white, clean and almost always smelled like candles burning or bleach. But this was different. People actually appeared to live here. There were pictures of Matt and his older brother on the wall. In the hallway leading to the living room there was a large framed family tree, and beside it was a picture of a large white building with a gold statue at the top. It reminded me of the building we used to go to in Salt Lake to see the Christmas lights downtown.

"Pretty," I commented as I looked at it. 

I stepped over the playing child and followed in the direction Matt went. "So what CD is this?" I asked him as I popped my head into the room he stepped in, looking around. "You have a water bed?" I laughed a little, having previously occupied one myself a few years earlier. "Never thought of you as the water bed type." I smirked and walked into the room, taking a seat without really thinking.

Matt was digging through CDs and tapes quickly, looking out the door every few seconds. I stood up and walked to the closet where I began looking around, trying to pick which of his shirts I would steal next.

"Here," He said with a smirk. "This isn't the CD I got you, but you need to be educated." He informed me as I heard my very first Metallica song. "It reminds me of you," He grinned.

So close no matter how far

Couldn't be much more from the heart

Forever trusting who we are

And nothing else matters

"Pretty," I smiled. "This is our song." I decided right then.

Outside I could hear a car door slam shut.

"Oh crap," Matt bolted upright and rushed down the hallway. My eyes followed him, confused. "My parents are home." He said, panic in his voice.

"And?" I asked.

"I'm not supposed to have girls in the house." He admitted.

"What?" My mouth fell open. I didn't understand. Were his parents really just like Josh's? "Well what'll happen if they find me here?" I asked and Matt's response was silent, but it looked pained.

"Just . . ." He looked around. "Hide." He insisted before leaving the room.

I squirmed and began moving around the room quickly, looking for something, anything to hide myself in, under or behind. I dove in the space between the water bed and the wall, and covered myself with a blanket. Outside I could hear Matt talking to his parents, though I couldn't make out the words.

"I'm gonna just be in my room," Matt called as he opened the door, and then shut it behind him. "Jia?"

"Over here," I whispered, heart in my throat as I sat up. "What the hell?" I asked him. "Are they gonna leave?"

"No," He sighed. "They're just outside."

"I'm getting out of here." I stood up and moved toward the window. "I'll hop the fence and then come around to the front door like I just got here or something." I said. This would totally work.

Just then the door opened. My body froze, one leg halfway out Matt's bedroom window, my cherry red hair hanging in my face. I took in a quick breath and held it. Matt fell on his bed, throwing his face into his hands in exasperated defeat.

Staring me in the face as I was sneaking out of her fifteen year old sons bedroom window, was my future mother-in-law. A mixture of fury and disappointment painted her features. 

"Steven," She called for Matt's father. "We have a problem."

 (MIL . . .not nearly as angry, disappointed and frightening here)

Chapter Fifteen>>>

Untypically in Love: Separation Anxiety

Read the full story, chapter by chapter here.

Some names and events have been changed to protect the identity of certain individuals.

---------------------

Chapter Thirteen
Separation Anxiety

"Where are you going!?" I screamed at my aunt Debbie as I spun around in the passenger seat of her truck. 4:35 in the morning. The sky of Salt Lake City was black and despite it being the end of May, there was a chill in the air.

"We're running late." She said as she shifted into third gear, turning down a different route on our way to work at the bakery commissary. 

"But the post office!" I shrieked. "It's back there. If my letter to Matt doesn't get sent out today it'll take just that much longer for him to be able to write me back."

"Haven't you ever heard that absence makes the heart grow stronger?" She rolled her eyes at me.

"And what if absence makes the heart forget!?" I'll admit now, lack of sleep, ten hour work days and waking up at four every morning was making the melodrama that much more high pitched.

"You're fifteen years old." 

"Thank you, I can count." I sobbed, yawned, and then sobbed again.

The work at the bakery wasn't so bad. Debbie managed the commissary in the business so we never needed to be around customers. Our biggest problem was if the owners of the company ever came down, taking over our work stations to make sad attempts at catering. Meanwhile we still had to produce the same amount of food with half as much workspace and three times as many distractions.

The work was long. The work was hard. But the work was good. It kept my mind off of Matt. Off of missing him so much and worrying that he was somehow waking up from this momentary lapse in judgment. I would come home and he would look at me and say, "Jia who?"

But work kept me distracted. 

For the most part.

"This song is so like me and Matt," I sighed as I began singing along to the radio. 

"They write songs about stealing your best friends girl?" One of my co-workers laughed. I had told the story of our destined romance more than a few times. 

One second of not looking what you're doing in a bakery will have the knuckle of your thumb cut off in less than a second. 

"You're bleeding!" Someone yelled.

"Son of a  . . ." I growled and rushed to the bathroom to rinse my new wound. Over the summer I would receive over five different cuts on my hands. That same knuckle would heal and get cut off three weeks later. I got industrial concentrated soap in my eyes, slipped on a piece of lettuce, and dropped a giant metal crate, carrying over one hundred pounds of cooked turkey on my shin.

It wasn't going to take a swimming pool to kill me.

At the end of the work day, Debbie and I would drag our feet home to her condo where my Grandma was waiting for us. We'd sit on the couch, throw in a VHS tape of Dirty Dancing, and watch it, quoting word for word until the credits rolled. And then we'd rewind and do the same thing again.

This was our Monday thru Friday.

By the end of the summer, Grandma had hidden the Dirty Dancing tape beneath a couch cushion, and then refused to leave her seat when we went on a search and rescue.

Eventually we found it and the process would start all over again.

"Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you." Debbie and I quoted the movie, saying the lines along with the actors.

"That's how I feel about Matt," I sighed.

"I know. You say it every time we watch it," Debbie yawned.

"Nobody puts Baby in a corner." Patrick Swayze oozed.

"Matt calls me baby," I said under my breathe.

"Why don't you go check the mail again. I think I heard something." Debbie said, more than likely eager to get me to shut up.

"Okay!" I jumped from my seat on the floor, darting up the stairs to the mailbox where indeed, long love letters written on yellow notebook paper were waiting for me. So many pages, the envelopes needed to be taped shut.

"What a whore!" I shouted as I threw down several of the pages.

"Matt's a whore?" Debbie looked up with a smirk.

"No, his ex-girlfriends! Apparently at least three of the little sluts have called him in the last week. One begged him to meet her somewhere saying that she'd," I picked up the letter, reading it aloud. "Make him forget all about Jia." My flesh was on fire. And not in the usual good way that Matt's letters made me feel.

"And he told you?"

"Of course he told me," I was angry, but not with Matt. "He told her," I looked back down at the letter. "That no one could make him forget about me." I swooned, tears filled my eyes. "I need to get another phone card." I sighed lightly and began looking for the remainder of that weeks paycheck which had mostly been spent on new clothes, snack food, and of course, stamps.

The weekends were spent with my older sister at her house. It was a nice change of pace. She had a new baby to play with, and internet access. I could email Matt! It was so much more convenient. She also didn't mind me talking about him one bit.

"This coffee tastes funny," I said looking down at my morning cup. "What kind is it?"

"Pero," She said. "It's fancy." She added with a smirk.

Pero I would later come to find out was something nicknamed 'Mormon Coffee'. Not real coffee. Just tastes like it. Or actually, it doesn't taste like it much at all. But my sister was still Mormon.

"Hey, I'm having some friends from Church come over. They're coming to teach me some things, you can hang out if you want to." She added.

"Sure," I shrugged. I could sit in the other room and write Matt a letter until her friends left.

When the missionaries showed up at the door, they politely introduced themselves, making a point to shake my hand and say how neat it was to meet me. They were nice enough. But they didn't give me much space to write my boyfriend.

My sister sat at the table with the Elders, who were talking about some guy named Joseph Smith. I knew the name from when I attended elementary school in Salt Lake. Whether you were LDS or not, growing up in Utah involved Mormon history because it was Utah history. Aside from the name though, I knew very little.

"Do you know much about the Church, Jessica?" One of them asked me. 

"It's Jia, actually," I corrected him. Only my family still called me Jessica. "And yeah I guess I know a little. My boyfriends a Mormon." I thought for a minute. "My ex too."

"Really? How exciting." They said with what seemed to be genuine enthusiasm. "What have they told you about the Church?"

"Well apparently we're not supposed to date." I said bitterly.

Over the course of the following hour, they taught me things I'd never known before but always wondered. The truth was, Josh and Matt didn't talk about Church. Or at least, they didn't mention anything I felt was Church related. They both had strong influences from family. They were both kind and good people. I never knew this had anything to do with beliefs.

And beliefs were important to me.

The past several years when I wasn't thinking about boyfriends, I was thinking about God. Or whatever that meant. When my aunt Kathy died, I began practicing what she taught me, which was essentially witchcraft. It was not only rebellious, but popular among my friends. But it never fit.

I still believed there was a God.

Most of my family tried to help me find my own religious path. My father's side of the family was full of Baptists. Debbie was a reborn Christian and I had other aunts and uncles, cousins who were Catholic, Christian and those who proclaimed to be "spiritual", but not religious.

I never accepted much, especially when pushed. But I had questions. And finally, I was getting answers.

Summer was ending, and the last letter I sent to Matt before packing my bags to return home ended with, "I want to be with you forever. Someone I met here told me that you'd know more about this."

Chapter Fourteen>>>

Love, Love, Love

I've been working on this post for a while now. And everytime I begin writing, tears form in my eyes and I just can't get through it. But I have to. I have to post this exactly today. Today is important to me. Because I'll be twenty-six years old this Friday. In four days.

A little over a month ago, a blogger who I loved and respected didn't make it that far.

Four days before she turned twenty-six years old, Eva Markvoort passed away.

Eva was a young woman from Canada who was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. She was filmed for a documentary, '65 Red Roses', which followed her through the process of receiving a double lung transplant in 2007. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with transplant rejection in 2009. While still waiting for a second lung transplant, she died March 27th. Her blog, 65 Red Roses, reached across the world.

So what does this have anything to do with me?

Several months ago, a video of Eva was posted by a friend of mine on Facebook. This video changed my life. For what she thought would be her last words to her readers, followers and friends, Eva told the world that she was going to die, very soon. Her message was one of love. Love, love, love. That there was no shortage of love. That love would be celebrated. That her love was fierce!

After wiping away the tears I immediately knew that I needed to know her. And thankfully, because I am a blogger, I know that knowing someone does not mean you have to meet them face to face. I knew Eva because I read her blog. I read the entire archive in a matter of hours. And I followed each new entry, every day, updating with excitement each morning as I'd tell Matt, "Eva's still alive!"

I read each entry, prayerfully, until on March 27th, when I read:

"Our beautiful girl died this morning at 9:30. She is at peace." 

A celebration of love was held in her honor, and her family had it streamed to the internet, so we, her friends in the blogosphere would be able to celebrate with them. I stayed awake several nights ago, watching the videos of the celebration. They brought joy to my soul, tears to my eyes, and a deep pain in my heart.

Eva didn't hide herself. She blogged through the pain.

But she also LIVED! She ran marathons, raised awareness, celebrated life, love, friends, family and joy for joys sake! She never feared being silly, she embraced it. She didn't wait around for things to happen to her, she sought moments in life out and lived them. Changed them. Changed others.

Changed me.

When I saw Eva's video and read her blog I said, "I'm not going to hide anymore. I am going to show every part of my soul, and I'm not going to give a damn what the world thinks about it, because it's mine. It's not perfect, it's a little broken, but it's mine, and it's still beautiful."

Now that Eva is gone, and I look into the future at twenty-six I can't help but cry. Because I get to experience this, and she can't. Because I almost feel unworthy to have twenty-six, when someone like her only had twenty-five.

So I will be changed again.

Twenty-six will change me.

Twenty-six will be LIVED!

Twenty-six will be loved.

When I turn twenty-six, I will not only face the world barefoot, I will do it with joy in my heart. I will live everyday. I will look for opportunities to change myself, and others. I will begin to leave behind a legacy that will follow me until it's my time to leave this world.

And it will be full of life, laughter, and love.

Like Eva, my love will be fierce.

Things I've Learned in 26 Years

My birthday is on Friday. I'm feeling it. Age is slowly creeping up on me, and killing me inside. It's why my knees and hips are giving out on me. I'm sure I'll find a gray strand of hair Thursday evening. I tried convincing Matt of the seriousness of this problem. I tried to tell him that after 25 goes away, you're officially an adult, and old. The fact that he turned 26 five months ago has left him with no sympathy for me.

Seriously though, I'm looking forward to 26. And I don't actually have any qualms about getting older. Aside from the fact that babies I once changed diapers for are getting ready to graduate high school. Or that one of my little cousins just gave birth to her 3rd child early this morning. Or the fact that I met my sweet husband almost twelve years ago. Time passes too swiftly. So you better learn things as you move through life.

To kick off my official birthday countdown, and my almost twenty-six years of life, here is a list I've made up celebrating each year of my life with one truth I learned that specific year.

1. High School sweethearts don't always make it.
2. Death changes everything.
3. Family is one of the most important things in this world.
4. Big sisters DO NOT like it when you use their lipstick as crayons.
5. Grandpas make the best breakfasts.
6. Grandmas make the best friends.
7. Life is never perfect.
8. One hamster is sometimes too many.
9. Growing up fast hurts a lot.
10. It's really easy to almost drown in the ocean.
11. Stitches are not always necessary.
12. Falling off a bike is easy. On a related note, broken arms hurt.
13. Boobs will grow whenever they feel like it. Whether you have a bra or not.
14. Falling in love can happen in the blink of an eye.
15. When someone dies, they take a piece of you with them.
16. God lives and Jesus is the Christ!
17. Surrounding yourself with good friends can save your life.
18. Tattoos don't hurt that bad.
19. High School sweethearts sometimes make it.
20. Never throw pork fat into a garbage disposal.
21. Living with friends always seems like a good idea at first.
22. Living with inlaws never seems like a good idea at first.
23. No one had a perfect life.
24. If you're going to attract attention, always wear a bra.
25. Children come in all shapes and sizes.
26. Being yourself is amazing!

Untypically in Love: Drowning in You

Read the full story, chapter by chapter here.

Some names and events have been changed to protect the identity of certain individuals.

---------------------

Chapter Twelve
Drowning in You

I learned a lot of things over the course of the following week since being in a relationship with Matt, most importantly that you are never allowed to be the first one to break a hug.

We didn't make some big announcement to our friends about our new relationship. We were to busy loving each other to care what anyone else even thought. When Megaera saw us holding hands in the hallway, her eyes popped out of her skull, but she grinned and later told me that she was happy for me, and that she never realised how perfect Matt and I really were for one another.

Everyone told us that as the days progressed.

Our circle of friends began blending together permanently, with the exception of course, of one person who refused to speak to either of us, for obvious reasons.

I spent my time in class writing him love notes.
He spent his time copying the lyrics from songs that reminded him of me.

When we together, we were attached at the hips, (or mouth, if we're being completely honest here.) When we were apart, we longed for our inevitable reunion. We were lucky we didn't have cell phones back then. We'd have been forced to break up due to expensive charges for going over our minutes. Not a moment of my day was spent without thinking about him. I was beyond enamored. I was obsessively in love.

Most moments we were together, I spent with my face nuzzled into the crevice of his neck, his arms wrapped protectively around me. I'd never been happier in my entire life. Everything in the world was perfect. Even my family liked him, which said a lot considering how many boyfriends I had even brought home to begin with.

The ones that did make introductions were proclaimed idiots, Josh being the only exception prior to Matt. My Grandmother in particular was fond of Matt more than any of my boyfriends, or even friends all together. When he'd come over to the house, he always made a point to say hello to her, despite the fact that she could not properly respond.

My Grandmother had suffered a stroke when I was seven years old impairing her ability to speak. She did the best she could, but most of the time her words came out gibberish. It was often frustrating for the family, though a handful of us could understand her better than others. I was the best at it. She was the closest person to me in the whole world.

And it was hard when people didn't understand.

Her disability usually made my friends, and especially boyfriends nervous or afraid. They didn't speak to her because they thought that she couldn't understand. When she spoke to me in her gibberish, it made them uncomfortable.

But not Matt.

Once when I was out shopping with my aunt, he and a friend had walked down to my house to see if I was home. When my Grandmother opened the door he smiled politely, said hello and asked if I was home. She did her best to tell him where I was, but there was no way he could have really understood what she meant.

"She's not home?" He asked her as she waved her hand off in the direction we had driven, shaking her head no. "Okay, will you tell her I came by?" He asked, never once assuming that she lacked the ability to pass on a message to me.

She loved him.

Which was good, because so did I.

"I can't get enough of you," I sighed looking up at him, my head resting on his chest, my hands wrapped around his waist.

"I feel the same way," He smiled down at me, his hand buried in the thickness of my hair as we sprawled across the couch in my living room, the television quietly providing background noise.

"Why?" I asked him. "I still don't get it. Why me?"

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" He laughed.

"I'm not as pretty as Megaera." Or any of the other girls he had dated prior to me. Most of them were tall and blonde. The ones who weren't were still smaller than I was. Petite little things that he could easily throw over his shoulder.

Matt rolled his eyes. "You're kinda dumb, you know that?"

"What am I going to do the whole summer without you?" I asked him, changing the subject. Summer was coming fast. In less than two weeks school would be out and I would be sent to Utah where my aunt had gotten me a job working at the bakery where she was a manager. Not only would I be dramatically torn from Matt's side, but I would have to work. Summer was no longer a vacation.

"You're going to call me every chance you get," He smiled, knowing that it wouldn't be very often as neither of our families had decently prices long distance on their home phones. I would end up spending most of my summer paychecks on phone cards just to hear his voice. "And we'll write each other everyday," he promised. "Less than three months." He smiled, trying to keep me upbeat.

Despite the fact that Matt's parents didn't allow him to date either, they were less on top of him about it as Josh's parents had been. While it was inappropriate for a girl to ever call Josh's house, I called Matt every single day. While Josh wasn't ever allowed to go anywhere with a girl, Matt was given permission to spend my birthday with me.

Matt, Kristine and I had planned to spend the day at a local water park. I may have been curvier than the rest of his girlfriends, but I could rock a bikini easy back then. It was the perfect place to strut my stuff. We spent hours in the park laying on the fold out chairs. Kristine spent her time tanning, while Matt and I were much more preoccupied in trying to prove to her that two people very easily fit on one chair if you knew what you were doing.

I refused to let him go for any moment of the day. I knew that once our date was over, we would drop him off at home and that would be it. I was flying to Utah the next day. I was addicted to him already and just thinking about the withdrawls I would certainly experience sent me into a panic. I had to have enough of him in one day to make up for the months that we would endure apart.

One of the few moments I let go of him was in the giant wave pool. We each took separate tubes to float in, holding hands the whole time. As a giant wave crashed into us, my tube was knocked over. I scrambled to the top where I took in a deep breath and was then immediately pushed back down into the water by a horde of younger boys that had been trying to get back onto their tubes after being knocked over.

The water was blurry and it hurt my eyes to open. When I did, I looked up and couldn't find a space to crawl through. The scene above me was a blurry of yellow tubes, packed together like sardines, with legs and feet below, kicking inches close to my face. I began to panic as I swam, looking for a clearing.

Two tubes parted ways and I could see the sunlight shining through. I kicked my legs hard and made a beeline for the opening, quickly losing the ability to hold my breath. As I made it to the surface, my hands broke through. I could feel the sun on my face and I immediately gasped for air. I breathed too soon. The tube to my right flipped over, coming down on my head. My mouth filled with water and suddenly I was back beneath the surface, lungs emptied.

I'd always been afraid of drowning.

When I was five years old my older sister took me swimming all the time. She insisted that she could teach me. But one bad experience at the pool where my floaties popped in the deep end, had me pool free for a whole two years before my younger sister took the time to finally teach me. I was seven years old when I finally learned to swim. And I loved it. But the worry of sinking to the bottom of deep water without the ability to breathe had stuck with me.

One more attempt to return to the surface failed miserably. I didn't even look for an opening. I pushed my way through the crowd of kicking legs and made it to the top. But the waves were large and soon after a massive tube flipped over, the large hard plastic handle smacking me in the side of the face.

I was under the water again, breathless, and suddenly feeling very tired and confused. My head ached, a bump already forming as shocks of pain shot horizontally through my entire face.

My heart beat faster, and just as I could feel my chest begin to tighten, begging me to breathe, an arm wrapped around my waist, hoisting me to the surface where Matt pulled me to his chest in one swift move. I gasped for oxygen, choking on the water I had inhaled during the commotion. I opened my eyes and could see at least two others being pulled from the over packed pool. One was coughing up water like me, the other, a child was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Matt carried me back to our chairs and laid me down on the towel.

"What happened?!" Kristine sat up quickly, checking to see if I was okay.

"You okay, baby?" Matt asked me, holding his hand to my cheek.

I sighed as my heart began to calm down. "See, I am going to die without you." I laughed.

Matt chuckled, breathing a sigh of relief. "Just don't go swimming in Utah."

"Gotcha." I coughed once more before pulling him down beside me.

I was crying long before our car ever pulled up to his house. Matt held me against him, running his fingers through my hair.

"I love you," He said, stepping out of the car.

"I love you," I said, my words coming out in short sobs. My right hand struggling to let go of him, while my left clutched the button up over shirt he had worn to the water park. I insisted it was mine now, and he obliged. I watched him leave our car and walk back away toward his house.

"He's a good boy," My aunt said. "He'll still be here when you get home."

"I don't think you realise how hard it was to get him in the first place." I sighed.

"I know it's hard right now," She tried to console me. "But even if it doesn't work out, he won't be the last boy you'll love." She said, having not only been a teenager herself before, but previously raising two girls before my sister and I, not to mention having three younger sisters of her own.

But she was still wrong.

"Yes he will." I said firmly. "I'm going to marry him one day."

Chapter Thirteen>>>