Meant To Be: A Christian Romance

04| kindest, purest, and most beautiful

Holden's POV:

It doesn't have to be your thing, she'd said. It had caught me entirely off guard and the way she'd said it too. She wasn't pushing me at all to even go, she didn't even try to convince me to go. It made me remember of the way my mom used to be with dad. He wasn't not once interested of ever attending church when she and I would go alone or when she offered him to go with us. He just wouldn't budge or care to but my mom wouldn't insist.

He always rather spend a lot of time with friends, drinking until he was wasted drunk. It was surprising the day that he would come back home after work and not directly to the bar. Ironically enough now he was the complete opposite of back then. He didn't drink and he didn't even hang out with his old friends, who were complete assholes by the way. Something told me it was due to guilt over mom. The problem now was that we constantly argued over the stupidest things, getting off on the pain of her death. She was gone for four years now but every single day felt like a fresh wound. The only thing that eased my mind was the thought that she was in a better place.

"Leaving." I was sitting at the kitchen chair, putting on some shoes when my dad came in to view and without another word he left out the door. It seemed that the only form of communication in this house were only one worded responses or stoic replies. Either the one or two. It was fantastic really.

It was eight minutes til seven when I looked at the time and unintentionally my mind went to Heather. I wondered if she was out there right now, taking her morning walk like she always did every morning or watering her flowers. It occurred to me that I had only found out her name even after eight months of her living across the street. Probably I would've known her before if I went to Charelston High from the beginning but that wasn't the case considering I was homeschooled almost my entire life. I remembered vividly the first day she had just first moved in, only because it was the day of my mom's forty-fifth birthday. It was the most depressing day of the whole year. I just felt the entire tension between my dad and I radiating through the whole house. It was both physically and mentally draining.

It was four days later from that day that I caught sight of Heather as she planted some flowers on the sides and front lawn of the house. I was out in the garage where I usually spent, fixing up the neighborhood kids' bikes and I remembered clearly as her mouth moved and spoke to the flowers from afar. It was fascinating to watch and I usually caught myself going outside often just to watch her from a distance. From the day they've moved in I felt the pure energy radiating from her. My assumptions were confirmed true when I met her in class. She was the kindest, purest, and most beautiful girl I've seen. It was stupidly odd feeling that way.

I was only in the school for four days but I noticed she always looked ready to always help and assist to anyone who needed her help. It grabbed my attention every time she offered help when she saw someone in class struggling to understand the criteria even if she looked confused about the topic herself.

She was a girl that someone like me could never deserve.

These past months of analyzing her made me realize that, mostly now that I got to interact with her. She was a christian girl. What more do we need other than that little detail. She was destined for a man who loved Jesus just like how I assumed she did. At least that's what I remember my mom had mentioned about girls like Heather which is ironic coming from her since my dad didn't classify as that man. But one thing I would say was that she loved him to death.

I snapped out of my thoughts of her, disregarding the memories of her. Let alone I didn't understand why I was thinking of the girl, living across the street.

I was getting ready to pull out my book meanwhile it was time to leave when I heard a few soft knocks on the front door. I placed the book back down instinctively, annoyed that my dad had probably forgotten something and didn't think to open it with his own key. Why the hell did he carry a key if he wasn't going to make use of it?

I snatched open the door, ready to ask him myself, but was caught off guard as my eyes landed on the biggest smile I'd ever seen given to me, at least since four years. "Morning, Holden," Heather said, holding a plate of what seemed like rolls in her hands. "I made a few extra cinnamon rolls, would you like some?" she asked, looking a little hesitant before outstretching the plate towards me. I wasn't a big fan of sweet things like cake or bread but not wanting to make her feel bad I took the plate from her hands.

"You're giving me your leftovers?" I asked, and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. It was fun teasing her, really. She was the most innocent girl, I noticed, taking everything too serious from what anyone said to her.

"No, of course not. I just woke up a little early this morning, and ended up a little extra than I intended and so my parents didn't eat many. I could ask my cousin if she would want any but she doesn't like to eat sugar in the morning." She was rambling, fidgeting back and forth on her feet. It was cute seeing her all flustered but it wasn't fun making her feel uncomfortable around me.

"I'm kidding, Heather." I glanced down at the too sugary, glazed rolls and then up at her doubtful gaze as she looked from me to the rolls and back up again. "What?" I questioned, noticing her the way her eyes scrunched in suspicion.

"You don't like cinnamon rolls, do you?" she sighed, rubbing a palm down her face. "I'll take them back." She came to take the rolls from my hands but I held them tight in my hands.

"Who said I didn't like them?" I furrowed me brows. She lifted a brow, crossing her arms, and looking at me in a challenging manner. I ignored the fierceness that was visibly shown on her brown orbs.

"You don't. I saw it from the look on your face." She said, uncrossing her small arms. Well, one thing I knew was that I had to work on hiding my dislike expressions because clearly they were too visible for her to see. Now I felt like an ass.

"Ok, I don't. But my dad will probably eat them, so they'll come in good hands." I paused, looking as the line in between her brows didn't straighten. "Don't worry about it." I added, needing to reassure her.

"Ok." The corner of her lips curled up as she smiled and I, for the life of me couldn't help but glance a little longer than intended as I watched a small dimple form on the corner of her mouth. She followed my eyes closely and again the tint of red on her cheeks appeared as the both of us remained silent, looking at one another for a moment too long. "I should probably go now before it gets late, and you should probably too." She said softly, glancing back at the small BMW, outside her house, waiting for her.

"Sure." I watched intently as she walked off in her long velvet skirt and disappeared as she got inside the car. Modesty looked good on her I realized. It fit her all too well.

It wasn't until the car drove off that I realized how of a fool I must've looked watching with plate in hand as she went off. I rolled my eyes and shut the door behind me, placing the plate of rolls on the kitchen table.

"Dammit." I sat back down in the chair, rubbing my temples and contemplated over the feelings rushing over my body, from my head to feet. It felt very unfamiliar and strange. It was entirely forbidden coming from me. "What is going on, mom?" I rubbed a hand behind my neck, glancing up at the heavens, hoping she would miraculously answer me.

I wished she could, but that wasn't possible.