Sweet Iced Tea

Chapter 10

Sunday, September 21st

My phone rings at eight-thirty, and I open my sleepy eyes to silence it. But it's a text from Josh, so I don't.

*Get ready. I'll be there in twenty minutes.*

My forehead wrinkles in confusion. *What?*

*Just get ready. See you then, my dandelion wish.*

I smile through my foggy mind. Dandelion wish. He's been calling me that a lot lately. He said that before he came to ask me to the bucking, he prayed and put some dandelion fuzz in his back pocket for good measure.

And he says I'm superstitious.

So apparently, I'm his wish come true, as corny as it sounds. I love that boy.

I hop out of bed and throw on an off-the-shoulder blouse and holey jeans. Cora rolls over and glares at me sleepily as I slip a cuff bracelet onto my wrist.

"What are you doing?" she moans, still glaring at me.

"Joshua is coming to pick me up in-" I glance at the nightstand clock. "fifteen minutes."

"What for?"

I swipe on some mascara and then some lip gloss. "He wouldn't say."

She rolls over and grumbles at me incoherently.

I grab my purse, tiptoe through hall, and to the door, slip on my boots and walk out.

I know he isn't going to be here for ten minutes, but I think the sound of the crickets and birds might help me out of this groggy stupor.

I plop down on the porch swing and kick my legs so that it rocks a little bit.

I glance up at the sun, where it sets just cresting the hill, streaking the sky with vibrant pinks and oranges.

The distant rumble of a truck coming down the road brings me out of the thoughtful daze about the colors, and I gather my purse into my lap.

The anticipation is making me giddy, and I can hardly restrain a grin.

When his truck appears at the road, I run out into the driveway. He honks a few times, but does stop for me after a moment.

I climb in and smile broadly. "So where are we going?"

He doesn't return my playful tone. "Church."

A frown pulls my eyebrows into a crease. Church? I almost ask if we could not, but instead I just groan.

He darts his eyes at me, almost remorsefully, but he doesn't say anything.

I don't want to go to church. That's God's house. The same God that let my parents get divorced and killed my grandma when I was seven. I don't want to be anywhere near this God. I bite my lip and peek at Josh, my face heating with embarrassment.

"Why do we have to go to church?"

He keeps his eyes on the road ahead, and his expression becomes suddenly strained. "We are going because we need to fellowship with other believers." he looks over at me briefly. "You're not a Christian?"

I shake my head. "He killed my grandma and he let my parents get divorced. He ruined my life."

His brown eyes reveal an unexplained sadness at my words. Why does he care that I'm mad at God?

"He didn't kill your grandma, Leah."

"He let her die."

"Was she a Christian?"