fiction (iii): the life and loves of a homeschooled girl

With infatuations came another personal conclusion. If you liked a boy, the appropriate action was to ignore him. Because the worst thing in the world was if a boy thought you liked him.

This conviction reached its zenith at a missionary meeting one spring when I was a self-conscious twelve year old. A man that had spent the last 10 years in Thailand had been scheduled to speak to our homeschool group at a local church. We arrived a little late, just as he was being introduced. I reached the pew first, and Mom motioned for me to slide in.

Midway down the pew, where I was being told to sit, was Michael, sitting with his family.

I wasn’t a girl to notice the color of his eyes or the kind of shirt he was wearing or the neatness of his hair. I never even talked to him in person, only in my head. But in my dreams he came unbidden, making me wake up happy until I realized that I had just entertained boy thoughts. Then the guilt wiped away my smile.

I couldn’t sit next to him. It would be sin.

I stepped back and tried to get Jen to step in front of me.

“Move!” she said impatiently.

I looked at Mom.

She motioned with her head toward the row.

A battle raged inside of me, and I froze. I couldn’t go in. I couldn’t sit next to Michael. I’m not sure what I thought would happen if I did, but I knew that was far too romantic. And what if our arms touched?

“Lord, help me!” I silently prayed.

But Mom was expecting me to obey her. The missionary was coming to the lectern, and my mom was starting to look more than frustrated.

“Trisha, go!” her words came in a forceful whisper.

Emotional tears pricked my eyes.

“I can’t!” I whispered back, lower lip trembling.

I glanced back down the pew and noticed Michael glancing at us curiously.

Mom pushed Jen forward into the pew, and I followed Mom.

The pressure suddenly released, the crossroads safely passed over.

My cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Did Mom think I had disobeyed her out of rebellion? And did Michael think I was some kind of weirdo for making such a fuss? My stomach flip-flopped. Did he know now that I liked him because I had refused to sit next to him?

Frustrated with myself and the complications of life, I wanted to cry.

Oddly enough, if I had been asked to sit next to a little kid like Joey, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Only eligible boys made me feel like I was in moral danger.