The thought of her leaving in four weeks was something I didn’t even want to consider. I was trusting the Lord. Because whatever it looked like, I wasn’t going to let her get away again.
I’d even looked at openings at the LA Fire Department.
The salaries looked incredible, until I did a quick search for apartments and nearly lost my lunch. I wouldn’t cover my expenses, and even with the money I had from my grandfather, it wouldn’t be sustainable for very long. Which left me with nothing to do but trust that God was working something out.
I really didn’t want to move to LA. Was I willing to do it for her?
The more time we spent together over the next two weeks, the more I thought I might. It was impossible for me to walk around town without getting the inevitable comments from people we’d both known forever.
“It’s about time the two of you worked this out.”
“I never understood why she left in the first place.”
“Seeing you two together is just like fifteen years ago.”
I climbed in my truck to pick her up one evening. When I saw how clear the night was, I ditched my plans for a movie in Greencastle and went back inside to grab a blanket and an extra sweatshirt instead.
I pulled into the driveway and grinned as Krystal jogged down the walk and hopped into the passenger seat. She immediately leaned over and greeted me with a kiss before settling in. “What’s the plan?”
I gave her a grin. “You’ll see.”
I headed west out of town on Main Street, ignoring the paved road that would take us to the highway. Instead, I took the gravel road deeper into the country. Straight and flat, the road opened up outside of town as the houses and trees gave way to pastures and fields recently planted.
Every so often, the dark was interrupted by the flood lights outside a home or barn, but mostly it was dark, except for my headlights.
I took a left-hand turn at a four-way stop and turned to see Krystal’s reaction. I saw her smile and took her hand in mine. A few minutes later, I slowed as we crested the top of a hill and pulled the truck to the side of the road.
“You remembered…” came her quiet observation.
“I remember everything, Krys,” I responded truthfully. Maybe that made me pathetic, but Krystal just smiled and squeezed my hand.
We got out of the truck, and I took the blanket and laid it in the back of the truck after pulling down the tailgate. I reached back to help Krystal climb into the truck bed.
I laid back on the blanket, and Krystal took the spot next to me.
I hadn’t come here in years. Because every time I tried, I only remembered the last time I’d come with Krystal. It had been a few weeks before graduation, and I hadn’t admitted my feelings to Krystal.
The truck was nicer now, and we weren’t bumping against curfews. I could look back on the memory now and recall how desperately I’d wanted to admit my feelings as we looked up at the stars back then. How I’d tried for an hour to work up the courage to lean up and kiss her, then ultimately gone home kicking myself for my cowardice.
I looked to my left, studying her profile in the dark as she stared up at the stars. Country music floated from the radio in the cab behind us. She turned toward me.
A smile crossed her lips. “What are you looking at? The stars are up there.”
I shook my head. “Just you.”
I sat up slightly, resting my weight on my forearm, and leaned over. I pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, wanting to commit every fraction of the moment to memory. I wanted to overwrite that memory from high school with one from today. I couldn’t regret how things had played out fifteen years ago, because it made us both who we were today.
I was more confident and more sure of who God created me to be. And all the more grateful Krystal had come back into my life.
I drew back, breathless and tempted to go too far in the private setting. I laid back and looked up at the stars. “Bet they don’t look like this out in LA, do they?”
Krystal giggled. “No, they certainly don’t. Of course, I haven’t exactly made a habit of stargazing with anyone out there.”
I nodded. “Yeah… Probably hard to stargaze on a Vespa.”
Her arm flipped over to smack my chest. “I’ve never dated a guy who drove a Vespa,” she said with a laugh. She paused. “There was one who only had a bike.”
I shook my head. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”