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“I don’t understand Elliott! We’re just trying to make amends here!” His voice trailed off as we ran to the narthex.
We heard them laughing as they walked the other way. We sat in the children’s cry room and I grabbed Jules’ hand so the current could calm us both down and I could read her thoughts. It took several minutes but it worked, as always, and soon after, we joined our parents. We didn’t mention what had happened to anyone, though. After all, hindsight’s twenty twenty.
After church, both our families, like all the families in Bramwell did after church, went to Babe’s to eat. By then, Jules and I had almost forgotten about Jesse and Taylor and were having an extraordinary time with a bunch of kids from school. We all chatted about our vacations, what we did, who we saw, what we ate and we were asked a lot of questions about how Mauch Chunk was. All in all, it was a harmless conversation until Marisa Hartford, who had been hiding at the end of the shared table, chimed in with, what I thought at the time was, the most peculiar question.
“What were you two talking about with Jesse and Taylor outside the youth hall? It seemed to get pretty heated,” she asked.
Everyone at our table respected us enough not to mention their names. Recently, it seemed, the group had split into two, the Jesse half and the Elliott half. They knew how we felt about them, so it came as a surprise that she would be so bold as to ask us in front of our half no less.
That was my first real inkling that she might be in on, at the very least, what was going on in Taylor’s and Jesse’s private world.
“Why?” Jules asked suspiciously. “Is there something in particular you wanted to know about?”
“Nothing in particular,” Marisa lazily declared.
“Well, since you’re such fabulous friends with Taylor and you’re so curious, maybe you should ask her,” I said.
“Maybe I will,” Marisa said snidely and left the table tipping her chair back. It clanged to the floor. Cappelli picked up her chair for her and turned to us.
“What was that all about?” He asked.
“I’m not exactly sure,” I said, “but I think I’m going to find out.”
That night Jules and I sat at our rock bridge and braved the chill night air. She packed a basket, like she usually did, of hot chocolate or coffee, and homemade warm cookies. We curled up underneath our blanket, drank and talked.
“Hey,” I remembered, “I wanted to ask you something.”
“No, I will not marry you after graduation.”
“But you haven’t even heard my reasoning yet!”
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
“Okay, well, you know when we go off to Philadelphia that I’m going to have to put my full attention on studying right?”
“Right. So?”
“Well, I mean, technically that’s not really an issue now. I mean, high school is so breezy, for both of us.”
“Don’t lump me in with you. I actually have to work for my grades,” she laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, right now, you pretty much occupy ninety-nine percent of my thoughts and the other one percent is occupied with me trying to convince myself that I need to stop thinking about you constantly.”
“Well, that’s just a hormone thing babe. It’ll wear with time.”
“I don't think so Jules.”
“You don’t?”
“No, in fact, I know so and I came up with the theory that my thirst for you could possibly be tamed if, perhaps, we were married. At least then, I could come home to you and when we said goodnight it wouldn’t mean a long walk home or a short drive.”
“That’s an incredibly convincing argument,”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“But....,” she said.
“But, nothing. I’ve settled it. We’ll marry in the summer.” I sighed, “Feels good to get that off my chest. More coffee?”
