Stories from Lightport, MassachusettsMore stories from your favorite characters in The Front Row Series
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Stories from Lightport, MassachusettsMore stories from your favorite characters in The Front Row Series
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In some ways, things stay the same. In others, Josiah Barrett is slowly burning inside . . .
In some ways it was a typical day on the Massachusetts Coast. The sun was hot, causing rivulets of sweat to run down Josiah Barrett's chest and back, yet the cool ocean breeze blew past now and then to dry it. The sand was hot beneath his feet, yet when he wriggled his toes deeper, he could feel where the biting cold of winter lay dormant. The water beckoned to cool the eighty degree heat, yet its salty spray chilled him to the bone. Everything was as it always was except for one thing. Kate Anderson was in a bathing suit. Kate Anderson was dancing with her friends. Okay, that was two things. And, okay, perhaps he had seen both of those things before. It didn’t feel like he’d ever seen them before, however. Kate wasn’t wearing some string bikini. She wasn’t even wearing a two piece. Not even a tankini. She was wearing a very modest one piece, youth group approved. Purple with a big pink flower printed on it. How was it he was suddenly so aware of her curves in that swimsuit, then? How could he have seen her a thousand times since they were kids at the beach and by the pool, and today it felt like something he’d never noticed before? Her dance moves weren’t sexy, provocative ones. She was bouncing more than anything, to some cheesy boy band playing on the radio. Her friends were too, but he only saw her. Her strawberry blonde hair swirled around her face, lifted by the wind. Her face was pink, her nose freckled only as it was in the summer, and she was laughing with her head thrown back. He hadn’t seen her laugh since that dark night ten months ago in the deserted church parking lot. ********************************************************** In some ways, it was a typical fall afternoon. The leaves were a gorgeous array of reds, oranges, and yellows. There was a nip in the air, but since it was only September, the sun still spread its warmth. Kate Anderson was in his passenger seat, and that was nothing out of the ordinary, either. So why did it feel so overwhelming? She was quiet; still clearly disconcerted by that scrawny kid hitting on her. A teenage boy hitting on a pretty girl and asking for her number was not that big of a deal. Most girls weren’t Kate, though, and he hated that she felt she couldn’t say no to a simple request for her number. I should have gotten here sooner, he thought as his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that thought. Later, at The Daymark Diner, he had to tell a college guy to get away from her. Again, it was nothing that hadn’t happened a million times in every college town in the country, but again, this was his Kate. His Kate? Wait, when had he started thinking of her that way? “You’re not my brother, Josiah.” Yeah, he knew that. The thoughts he had about her were far from brotherly, and he had to admit: he wasn’t just being protective. He was jealous. ******************************************************* In some ways, it was a typical starry night. Lightport was such a tiny hamlet that nothing competed with the twinkling lights across the dark expanse above. He had star gazed often with his dad as a kid, learning all of the constellations. He wasn’t with his dad right now, though. He was with Kate Anderson, and this wasn’t the first time he had star gazed with her, either. But it had always been in a group, with their siblings or the rest of the church youth group nearby. Now they were alone, in the bed of his truck. They were lying on a blanket, and he was far too aware of her nearness. They were supposed to be just friends, practically like brother and sister. So why did he physically ache with the desire to roll over, take her in his arms, and kiss her until they were both breathless? He couldn’t get out of the truck fast enough. He couldn’t cross that line, not with Kate. “I’m not a kid anymore, Josiah,” she told him. She was angry. Like she knew exactly what he had been tempted to do, and was . . . upset that he hadn’t followed through? Her bluntness and the point she made - that their age difference didn’t really matter anymore - had his mind reeling after he left her by the beach. Could he finally allow himself to go where his feelings were leading him? He ran his hand over his face as he remembered the times he had platonically, comfortingly, sometimes even teasingly, held Kate in his arms. Each time the ecstasy of it had ended too soon. Maybe he should ask Kate out on an actual date. The thought both thrilled him and terrified him. Because if he hurt her, if he failed her, he might never forgive himself.
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Melanie TillmanI am a former English teacher turned homeschool mom of three who writes Christian romance novels on the side. You know, in my huge amount of spare time. Archives
November 2022
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