Squeak

Date Night

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Jezebel

I climbed into the SUV and relaxed my head against the headrest with an exhausting sigh. I closed my eyes when Erik threaded his fingers through my hair.

"I'm proud of you, Squeak."

My eyes snapped open. "You are?" I asked, turning to face him. Despite the darkness, his hazel eyes cut through like the guiding light on a lighthouse beckoning my lost vessel back to shore. They were brilliant, alluring orbs that I'd never tire of. His smile was always a mixed bag of wonder because you'd never know what was happening behind it. Is he happy? Is he angry? Is he plotting something evil and sinister? Who will be his victim? Me? My stuffies? Tucker and his brothers?

"You did well, Squeak. I could see from the truck that they were eating out of the palm of your hands. It's a pity that I was the only one who could recognize your beauty before your transformation. You need to remember that, Squeak. I was the only one who accepted you for who you were. I never shitted on your hair—truthfully, I miss it. I miss how your afro puffs sat on the top of your head in all their glory. I miss how you fluff them up when you need a confidence boost. I never cared about how you dressed or that you were a little thicker than the other girls. I hope you didn't take it to heart when I called you a fat ass on the phone. I didn't mean it, but I had to make it believable for Tucker. I think I've gone out of my way to show you how beautiful your body is. Have I ever asked you to lose weight?"

"N-no."

"Have I ever made fun of you because of your weight?"

"No."

"Have any of my suggestions or changes to your physical appearance made you uncomfortable or damaged your self-esteem?"

Never.

"No."

"Good. Remember that, Jezebel. I'm the only one who accepted you for who you were without any conditions to change. Tucker? He was ashamed to be seen with you. He thought that being by your side would ruin his reputation. The only reason for his sudden change is because of me. If I hadn't shown up, he would still be bullying you, calling you names, and making your life a living Hell. I'm on your side and want him to pay for everything he did to you. You want that, too, right?"

"I...I don't know," I answered truthfully. I'd never been a vindictive person and always believed in forgiveness.

"Is your faith holding you back?"

I nodded.

"I shouldn't seek vengeance. Mark 11:25 says, And when ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have ought against any; that your Father also which is in Heaven may forgive you your trespasses."

"True, but according to the Bible, wasn't God a vengeful God?"

"In a way, yes, but—"

"Didn't God create Hell just to punish people?" Erik challenged.

"Yes, but—"

"But what?"

"But I'm not God, and we can't make that comparison." Erik paused to text on my phone. "What are you doing?"

"Tucker texted you. I'm responding," he murmured.

"What is he saying?" I asked curiously.

"He wanted to make sure that you had his phone number. Do you like football, Squeak?"

"I'm not really into sports."

"You are now. You're going to Tucker's football game on Friday." I groaned and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. "Cheer up. He's paying for your ticket."