Page 53 of The Friend Game

“And you’re not worried Mary-Anne is going to try and figure out what these plans of yours are? And if she does, that she’ll start one of those rumors you were worried about?”

Luke lets out a long, slow breath. “Sure, I’m a little worried about it, but you and I are being very careful to abide by the contract. I fully stand by my choices to pursue a friendship with you. A friendship that yes, I’m looking forward to one day turning into more, but that nonetheless doesn’t specifically violate my contract. So as long as you and I continue to keep things friendly between us, we should have nothing to worry about.”

I consider his words. They certainly sound good, and I agree with the conclusions he’s drawn. We truly have been very careful to keep things friendly between us. But I still can’t shake the fear that Luke might end up under fire because of our relationship.

Not only because of his contract but because of the things I’m hiding from him.

“Maybe I’m being selfish,” I tell him.

“Selfish?” He sounds incredulous. “How are you being selfish?”

“I shouldn’t call you every night.”

“Hannah,Icallyoumost nights.”

“Then I shouldn’t answer.”

“Ouch.” He laughs.

“It’s not funny,” I cry. “You have your job to think about. And I’m distracting you, just like they were worried about.”

There’s a long silence, and I start to worry that I’ve actually convinced him that our friendship is a bad idea, that the next words out of his mouth are going to be parting ones. Which, despite my guilt, is far from what I actually want.

But when Luke does finally speak, it’s not to end our friendship.

“Hannah,” his voice is low and serious and I find myself holding my breath as I wait for more, “it’s true that I find you very distracting. And come March I’ll tell you in more extensive detail about how throughout the day I find myself wondering what you’re doing or thinking of ways to make you laugh or stories I want to share with you. Come March I’ll tell you how sometimes I catch sight of you across the hallway or as I’m walking into chapel and I forget to breathe because you’re so beautiful. It’s not good, Hannah. Not in keeping with the bounds of friendship at all.”

“No, it’s not,” I whisper faintly, my cheeks flushed with pleasure, my stomach going all swoopy.

“But the thing is, Hannah Garza, I tried it both ways and it turns out the only thing that could possiblydistract me more than having you as a friend is not having you as a friend.”

I think my heart just sighed. Yup, it let out a dreamy sigh and now it’s arguing with my soul about who saw Luke first: is he my soulmate or my true love? But Luke isn’t done with his speech, and what he says next makes me realize he’s neither of the two—he’s something so much more.

“The elder board thought dating someone would pull me from my responsibilities to the church, but shouldering the weight of this congregation without a partner to lean on has been difficult and pretty lonely. Maybe for some pastors it wouldn’t be a problem; they may even thrive in singleness, but I’ve never felt the absence of a partner more than I have this last year. At the start of the school year, I spent a lot of time praying about it.” He drags in a breath. “And then one day you showed up in our art classroom, and right away I felt something for you. Right away, you made me feel lighter, as if my life would be better with you in it.

“In all of my prayers about this, there’s been a verse in the Creation story that I keep coming back to. It’s Genesis 2:18, ‘Then the LORD GOD said, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.”’ I don’t want to put any pressure on you or make you feel as if I already expect you to be that helper for me; but I also wantto be clear that the only reason I took the risk to ask you out when I had a contract to worry about, was because I see the potential for us to end up married. There’s just something special about you, Hannah.”

I sink to my kitchen floor, my body too busy melting into a gooey mess to hold me up. Some women might take offense at being referred to as a helper, but not me. I see that role for its beauty and importance. It’s by no means a lesser role, but rather a role that works in unity with servant-leadership toward the same purpose: to be a picture of the relationship between Christ and His church. I saw this in my parents’ marriage, and it’s always been a desire of my heart. One I stuffed down when I chose to be in a relationship with Marshall, who enjoyed the power dynamic between us. A dynamic where I always came out as the lesser party, bending over backwards to please him.

Never again, though.

Marshall is my past. And I am ready for Luke to be my future.

Then you need to tell him the truth,a niggling little voice whispers in my ear,and not just about your lack of teaching certification.

“Luke,” I whisper his name, my vocal chords rebelling against speaking at regular volume, “that was…when you said…you have no idea…I mean…” I let out a groan of frustration. “I’m sorry,” I moan. “I’m not as good with words as you. I express myself much better through art. I don’t know how to adequately express how what you just said made me feel.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay, Hannah. I know I just layed things on a little thick. You don’t have to respond in kind.”

His words have the opposite effect of their intention. Rather than calling me off, they solidify my need for Luke to know I feel the same way about him.

“Let me try again,” I tell him, shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath as I picture the way I feel. “If my feelings for you were colors they’d be bright shades of red and orange and yellow. Like a sunrise bursting over the horizon or a profusion of wildflowers exploding across a field, completely dazzling in their display. Colors that overwhelm you with their beauty and joy. Colors that grab your attention. Colors that make you stop and say, ‘Wow, what an abundant God we serve! Thank you, God, for Your goodness to me.’” My eyes open again and self-consciousness settles over me. Maybe that was stupid. “Sorry,” I start, “that was weird. I was trying to say that having you in my life make me want to thank God for His–”

“Hannah,” Luke cuts me off, and to my surprise his voice sounds hoarse, as if his throat is thick with tears, “I got it. That was…beautiful. Thank you.”

Oh geez. Now I’ve got tears pooling behind my eyes. If I don’t get it together quickly I’m going to need some tissues. Which would be bad, because I never have tissues on hand when I need them. So I could either run to Jill’s house–and have to explain why I’m crying–or run to the bathroom and use toilet paper. And I do not need that kind of chaffing on my nose right now.

I take a long, shuddery breath. “Okay,” I croak, “now that we both know where the other person stands, should we move onto the next important matter?”

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