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  “Ryan, what’s the best thing you got for Christmas this year?” It’s a relief to hear at least one sentence without the word sex in it. I lean back a little and allow myself to turn to where poor Ryan has been put on the spot.

  “Uh, the newest Guitar Hero for my Wii.” Ryan shrugs.

  “Did it come with instructions?” Ed asks.

  “Sure.”

  “Emma.” Ed wheels around and stares directly at our couch. “How about you?”

  Emma looks at me and back to Ed.

  “What’s the best thing you got for Christmas this year?”

  “An iPhone.” Emma stands up, slips her phone from her pocket, and holds it up for the crowd. “And, yes, Ed . . .” She flashes a huge smile. “It came with instructions.”

  “Thank you, Emma.”

  Emma bows with a flourish before sitting back down. She loves to have the stage.

  “And, if you started banging your little brother on the head with your guitar accessory or tried to use your phone without charging it first, would they work? Maybe, maybe not. But, even worse than not working, they could be broken . . . destroyed.” Ed nods to the guy in back who works the audiovisual stuff. A Bible verse flashes on the overhead screen.

  “In Genesis, we see how excited Adam was when God made Eve for him.” Ed reads the verses aloud:

  “At last!” the man exclaimed. “This one is bone from my bone, and flesh from my flesh! She will be called ‘woman,’ because she was taken from ‘man.’” This explains why a man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one. (Genesis 2:23-24, NLT)

  The worship band walks back on stage and starts strumming their guitars.

  “And now a word from our sponsors, to give you all a break.” Ed smiles and sits down.

  The lead singer’s powerful voice cuts through the room, “Blind man stood by the road, and he cried. . . .” Noah leans back, and our shoulders touch. I smell his minty soapiness and can almost inhale the warmth from his shoulder.

  “Steamy stuff, Linds,” he whispers in my ear as the band begins to sing.

  “Very.” I tilt my head into his and feel his rough hair tickle the side of my face.

  After the intermission, consisting of the song, popcorn and soda, and a get-to-know-your-neighbor game, Ed calls us back to our seats.

  “On a chilly night like tonight, I think I’ll go home and build a fire in my fireplace. There are few things more comforting and cozy to me than watching those beautiful flames dance and listening to the musical crackle of a fire while it brings warmth to my home.”

  I picture Noah and I snuggled up in a quilt by our fireplace. It isn’t hard with his body aligned with mine.

  “Now the thing about fire is, as amazing as it is in my fireplace, it’s one of the most dangerous things known to man if it sneaks out of the fireplace. It burns precious belongings, destroys homes, and even kills.”

  Ed pulls a match from his pocket and lights it. Pchheeeuu! The match ignites. The scent of sulfur seeps into the air. Ed allows it to burn until it almost singes his fingertips. He blows it out. Smoke curls toward the ceiling, and the room is silent.

  “Sex is like that. In the hearth of marriage, God has created something beautiful and intimate that can warm your soul and nurture your relationship with your spouse. But, sex outside of marriage is like a fire outside of the fireplace. It can burn you and destroy you. It could be treacherous.”1

  Despite Noah’s warm presence beside me and all this talk about heat, a shiver streams down my scalp like cool water in the shampoo sink at the hair salon, then spreads over my entire back and down my arms to my fingertips.

  “You okay?” Noah asks. His lips flutter on my ear.

  “Yeah, just a chill, that’s all.” I keep my eyes glued to Pastor Ed. It’s hard to think about Noah’s soft lips when Pastor Ed is warning against the dangers of sex.

  Noah slides his arm around my shoulders in a comforting, concerned way. I lean into his safety. He pulls me closer.

  “I’ll keep you warm.”

  I miss most of Ed’s closing prayer between snuggling next to Noah and trying to process tonight’s lesson.

  Outside in the parking lot, Emma elbows me. “So which was hotter tonight: Ed’s message or you and Noah?”

  “Stop!” I slap her arm, completely embarrassed. I tilt my head to make sure no one’s listening. Almost everyone’s gone. There’s just a small group of four or five kids hanging out by the doors, laughing. My brain buzzes like birds and bees.

  I whisper to Emma, “I just — I guess I never really thought about it from God’s side before. I mean, I know I’m not supposed to have sex before I get married, but I never really thought about why.”

  “Do you buy into everything Ed said?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I think so. I mean there’s stuff like AIDS and pregnancy, which are plenty scary, but the idea of that fire gave me the shivers. I don’t want to get burned.”

  “What if other things in life have already burned you?” Emma asks. Her breath looks like the smoke from Kristine’s cigarettes as it hits the brisk night air.

  I know her parents argue a lot, and it’s driving her crazy. I know she gets annoyed when she has to babysit all her little brothers and sisters. She usually won’t talk about it, though, but she said ‘burned,’ and that’s a strong word. “Is it that bad, Em?” I squeeze her hand.

  “Nah.” She scrunches her nose. “Well, sometimes. Tonight they were screaming. I mean screaming! Then Mom takes it out on me, like it’s my fault she and Dad can’t stand each other. She yells at me about how insensitive I am to have her take me and pick me up, and don’t I ever think about her and her needs. I mean, doesn’t she mean to say all of that to him? It’s not my fault. Plus, I’d drive myself in a second if they hadn’t grounded me. I don’t want her to chauffeur me around. Tomorrow they’ll both just act all nicey-nicey to each other, but no one will apologize to me.” She shrugs, but I see her eyes are wet. “It’s so juvenile and . . . unfair.”

  “I’m sorry.” I hug her. “You know you can always spend the night at my house to get away.”

  “Thanks. I might need to tonight. We might also need a cab. It looks like Mom forgot us or is just teaching me a lesson.”

  The other kids tumble into the back of a silver minivan, leaving us alone in the parking lot.

  “Okay,” I gush, “on a completely separate note, Noah is so amazingly sweet. It feels so natural to have him next to me and whispering to me. I never really liked boys before . . . not like this, anyway.”

  “Yeah, we’re all a little weirded out, Linds. You haven’t dumped him because of the way he ties his shoes or because he has a strange middle name or anything.” Emma places her palm on my forehead. “You feeling okay?”

  I feel anxious and dizzy as I think of Noah’s soft mouth brushing my ear.

  “There must be something really wrong with me.” I laugh.

  Bzzzzz.

  My pocket quivers.

  I flip open my phone. It’s from Noah.

  CY

  CANT W

  I type back.

  __________________________

  1. Fireplace analogies were inspired by Pastor Jim Zippay’s sermon on Intimacy, June 2007.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  And kick, kick, kick, kick, fan kick, fan kick, jump together, slap, slap, turn, and roll my head. Now, arm up, lock onto Julia’s shoulder, snap my head right, and march, march, march, march. The synthesizers in the song scream. The music is the living pulse of the gym, and the dance team is the blood flowing through its veins. And stag leap, swivel, swivel, up, and touch the ground, hold it, and exhale. Next group does the same while I actually snatch a breath of air. And, one, two, pop up, and pose.

  “Better, ladies. Fours, you’re a half beat behind the threes on that last sequence. Catch up. Follow Melissa’s lead on the fans.” Todd, our dance coach, paces back and forth in front of us.

  I’m ho
ping he talks a little longer so I can breathe like a normal person again. My heart races so fast, it feels like it will beat right out of my chest and slide across the floor like a hockey puck. I glance at the clock. Time to go. Two hours of practice and my muscles feel like pudding. I’m starving, and I have a heap of homework tonight.

  “Once more. Make it count.” Todd turns to the CD player, gives us a millisecond to get in position, and punches the Play button.

  I reach inside myself to find the energy to perform the whole routine again. The music lifts me and snaps my limbs from one pose to the next. My smile is genuine. The notes fill me and move me. Adrenaline pushes my body around the gym floor until the last note resonates in the air.

  I collapse onto the floor along with half the dance team.

  “That’s it!” Todd shouts. “See you tomorrow. Nice practice, girls.”

  Melissa reaches out her hand and pulls me to standing.

  “I don’t know if I can walk to the back of the gym,” she pants. Sweat drips down her freckles.

  I wipe the smoldering droplets on my own face before they sting my eyes. “I know I can’t. That’s why I’m going to let you carry me.”

  She rolls her eyes. We attack our water bottles and take our time stretching in the back of the gym. “Sooo, Emma said you and Noah were cozy at youth group?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, blushing. “It was . . . wow, completely uncomfortable.”

  “How do you mean?” Melissa asks.

  “Oh, he was great. He is so sweet. It’s just the topic was,” I lower my voice, “sex, and I was so self-conscious sitting next to him while they talked about all that stuff.”

  “It’s awkward enough talking about that without a guy next to you.” Melissa leans over her knee.

  “Right. So, Mel, you don’t have to tell me, but have you and Beau, you know, I mean not have you done it, but have you talked about it, you know, sex?”

  Melissa’s flushed face deepens to purple. She looks around and whispers, “Lindsey, we were barely dating in the first place, and then we broke up, and then we got back together. Now, we’re kind of off again. His parents won’t let him date, even though we see each other at school and stuff during basketball season. We haven’t had time to even think about that! We’re too busy deciding if we’re a couple!” She looks at me sideways. “Have you and Noah talked about it?”

  “No! I mean he hasn’t even tried anything. Which is great. He’s just kissed me, more like little pecks, which I loved. I’d just never really thought about the religious part of abstinence before, and last night really has me thinking.” I take a sip of water, so sweet and wet, sliding down my parched throat.

  “Which religious part?” Melissa asks, switching legs.

  “Well, Pastor Ed, he’s the youth pastor at youth group, was saying sex is a gift from God, and He wants us to take care of that gift. I’d never considered that before.” I normally don’t talk about God with my friends. Not that I avoid it, it just doesn’t come up, or maybe I feel uneasy. But I know Melissa goes to church, and it’s all so heavy on my brain today. A bead of sweat slides down the side of my nose and drops onto the floor. “It sounds hokey, but it kind of makes sense too.”

  “Yeah, I guess I thought of the whole thing more as a commandment. You’re supposed to wait because that’s what the Bible says. I never thought about it as what God wants.” Melissa switches legs. “But abstaining because He wants us to makes more sense, actually.”

  “Sorry, this is heavy stuff.” I roll my eyes as I zip my coat.

  “No, it’s fine, really fine. It’s actually good. I’m glad we can talk about it. I’m glad you talked about it with me. And I guess Beau and I might face the issue someday.” Melissa tosses her gym bag on her shoulder.

  I let that thought take a ride through my head. Will Noah and I have to face the issue? He’s a Christian too. He sat on the couch and heard every word Pastor Ed said, just like I did. He saw that match glowing in the silent room. I know what my stance is. I want to wait until I’m married. It’s the right thing to do.

  Pastor Ed mentioned Christian teens wearing purity rings on their ring fingers as a symbol of chastity. I slip my thumb around the vacant space on my left hand. I imagine a shiny silver reminder of my promise to Jesus to stay pure for Him. I’ll have to look into it. Kristine would get a kick out of that! I can hear her now: “You know that’s your wedding finger?”

  “I know.” I would keep her gaze.

  “So, who did you marry?” She’d laugh, not in an evil way, but in a you’re-so-queer way.

  “I didn’t. It’s a purity ring.”

  “Pure of what?” Kristine would raise an eyebrow.

  “You know, I’m saving myself for marriage.”

  “Why?” Kristine would plop me down on her bed. “That totally hot hockey player is into you. Do you know what you’re missing? I bet he’d be fabulous. He’s clearly in good shape.”

  I would hit her with a pillow.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It’s Friday night, and I’m going over to Noah’s. I’m nervous and excited and jittery. I’ve never been to his house. I’ve never met his parents. Well, I’ve known who they are for years, from the neighborhood and all, but I’ve never formally met them and definitely not as Noah’s girlfriend.

  Noah and I have barely seen each other this week, unless you count sending texts and chatting for a few seconds now and then in the cafeteria. I’ve had practice every night and he’s had practice every morning early — at six o’clock — something about it being impossible to get ice time. He has two away games tomorrow and another one on Sunday. So he won’t even be at youth group. This is our only chance to see each other, and I can’t wait!

  Mom likes that Noah came to our house first. She thinks he’s polite. She called his mom on the phone to make sure I was invited and Mr. and Mrs. Hornung would be home. Did I mention I have to meet his parents?

  I’ve thought and rethought my outfit. I want to convey the right message. I’m wearing a coral sweater twin set and these great flared camel-colored cords. I look conservative (for his parents), but pretty (for Noah). My coral and aqua headband pulls my straightened hair from my face. I’ve decided to grow out my bangs, so they’re pulled back too.

  I don’t mind walking through the neighborhood. I feel like I’m nine again, slipping through yards, trying not to set off any dogs barking, cutting through the right places to avoid fences. The cold air cuts right through my shearling coat. It makes me feel awake and alive. The sky has a pale yellow cast as the day turns to night. It’s perfectly silent and the air has the crisp, metallic smell like it might snow.

  I take my time, breathing in the dusk. I left the house at 5:55 and don’t want to arrive exactly at six, looking overly eager, but I am. I want to hear Noah laugh and have him be next to me and smell his special smell. I also want him to kiss me again, but I have no idea if that’ll happen with his ’rents around. I want to charm Mr. and Mrs. Hornung — to make them think I’m the perfect girl for their son.

  He’s sitting on his front porch as I walk up the driveway. My heart is going up and down like a sewing machine needle.

  Noah shrugs in his khaki barn jacket and stands. “Just thought I’d wait for you out here. The stars are coming out.”

  I look up. In the purplish sky, tiny lights gradually ignite.

  “Come on in. It’s freezing.”

  We shuffle into the tan brick split-level. The houses are smaller at this end of the neighborhood, simpler. I like it. I take off my shoes and coat. His house smells like black licorice and roast beef.

  Noah leads me into the den, which is a really small, closed-in room, with three hunter green walls and two brown-and-green-plaid love seats piled with cushions. Handles of hockey sticks peek out from behind the couch. The faint odor of smelly feet lingers. A plasma TV is on one wall and a Wii with a tangle of cords covers the floor.

  Mr. and Mrs. Hornung sit stiffly on one of the love seats. This ro
om looks like it’s been taken over by Noah and his younger brother, Adam.

  “Mom, Dad . . .” Noah’s fingers weave through his hair. “This is Lindsey. Lindsey, these are my parents.”

  “It’s nice to see you again, Lindsey.” His mom smiles at me from her awkward perch. Her dark curls are pulled back out of her face with tortoise shell combs. She looks like an L.L.Bean model with her cardigan and turtleneck.

  “Hi, Lindsey. We’ve heard a lot about you.” Mr. Hornung stands and reaches out his hand to shake mine. Noah looks like him, dark and rugged.

  I nervously shake his hand and turn to Mrs. Hornung. She’s where Noah gets his height. She’s at least three inches taller than her husband! “Nice to see you too.” I manage.

  “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you riding your scooter around the neighborhood.” She smiles.

  “I’m just counting down the days until I can drive a car around the neighborhood.” I laugh nervously. What have they heard about me? Do they know Noah called me his girlfriend? That he kissed me? Has he had other girls over? Did they like them? I want them to like me. I want to do the right thing, but I’m not sure what that is. I feel awkward. As natural as it is for me to talk to my friends, I can’t think of one thing to say to Noah’s parents.

  “Don’t count too quickly.” Mr. Hornung smiles. “Now that Noah can drive, we make him run all kinds of errands for us.”

  “I’d drive you anywhere you wanted too.” Noah smiles. “So . . .” Noah rubs his palms together as if he can’t get enough Emilio Estevez. “Who’s up for MD2?”

  “Are you really making Lindsey watch that?” his mom asks, rolling her eyes.

  “Making?” Noah turns to me. “She loves the Mighty Ducks. Don’t you, Linds?”

  “How could I not?” I look at Mrs. Hornung for pity.

  “Well, between you and Adam, we’ve seen this one about four thousand times. I won’t spoil the ending.” Mr. Hornung laughs and leaves the room.