Page 51 of Salvation
“Shut up. I’m listening to the sermon.”
Hayes snorts, covering it up with a cough, but it still makes my mom look our way, sending us a warning glare. He waits until her attention goes back to the preacher before he leans in and whispers, “Name one thing the preacher’s talked about since he’s been up there.”
He thinks he has me. It’s clear from the way he smirks when my jaw ticks, but I refuse to let him win this stupid game we are playing.
“Jesus,” I say confidently from the side of my mouth because I might be sixteen, but my mom will still make me pick my own switch for acting out in church.
Hayes’s smirk drops, replacing it with an unamused eye roll. “You’re full of it—”
“Full of charm and delight. I agree,” I whisper, flashing him a bright smile, but out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ivy turn her head just enough to look at me without being seen. I turn my smile toward her, but she looks away too quickly to notice. Nausea works its way up my throat.
Hayes is staring at me again, his brow furrowed, but I ignore him, staring at the back of Ivy’s head.
“Did something happen between you two?” Hayes asks, still pressing the issue.
I give him a side eye, working my jaw back and forth. “Would you shut up? You’re going to get us in trouble.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Is it Mr. Cunningham? Didn’t you say he’s kind of a jerk?”
“Hayes,” I whisper-hiss. “Name one thing the preacher talked about in the sermon.”
I feel him move, lifting one shoulder in a shrug, and I don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking. It’s his go-to look.
“Easy. Philippians 4:6. Pray about everything—that’s what he’s preaching about.” He stops, and I turn my head just enough to stare him down. “So tell me, Campbell, have you prayed about it?”
I grit my teeth and avoid looking at him for the rest of the sermon.
______________________
After church, Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham stay behind to speak with several people, and I chase Ivy down as she walks out the door. She’s walking with her head tucked down as if she doesn’t want people to notice her, and I want to laugh at the irony of it because it’s impossible not to notice her. Ivy stands out like a star against the darkest of nights.
She’s halfway across the parking lot by the time I reach her. I call her name a couple of times, but she doesn’t answer.
Speeding up my steps, I circle my hand around her bicep, softly pulling her to a stop.
“Ivy,” I say, but my words dry up in my throat when she finally turns around and I see the tears streaming down her face. “Sunshine, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
She sniffles and shakes her head, swiping at her face with the back of her hands.
Stretching out, I wrap a curl around my finger and tug, running my thumb over the golden strands. I keep my eyes on the way the silk stretches around my finger when I ask the question that’s been plaguing me. “Are you mad at me?”
I feel rather than see Ivy shake her head.
“No.”
My gaze flies to her, but my thumb keeps stroking her hair. “Then talk to me,” I beg. “Please. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Ivy hesitates for a second more before giving in. “Do—do you think I’m a bad person now?”
I blanch. “Ivy, no. Why would I think that?”
She sniffs, lifting her hand to wipe at her face. “Because of—because of what we did. We were supposed to wait for marriage. Do you think less of me now?”
“If I thought less of you, sunshine, I’d have to think that of myself, too. You weren’t the only one who made that decision. I could have stopped us, but I didn’t. So to answer your question, Ivy, no. I don’t think less of you. Is that why you were avoiding me?”
Ivy chews on her lip. “Maybe. Do you regret it?”
Stragglers from church start to trickle out, and I know I only have moments left before her grandparents come out and drag her away. So I lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “No, sunshine. I don’t regret it because I always plan on you being my wife anyway.”
