I want to die. Where is the chariot, Lord? Come get me! Instead, Preston left me, mouth open, in the middle of the foyer in a panic. I don’t remember how I got back to my seat. Naturally, I went catatonic for a few seconds after his comment. Never had I met a man who could make me want to punch his face while kissing it. I hate him for it. I want to destroy him. I want to—
“Amanda?” Kristin’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“What,” I whisper loud enough for the row in front of me to turn around with scowls on their faces.
“You’re hurting my hand,” she scolds.
Apologizing, I look down and release my grip. I fear I need therapy considering how much anger I’m feeling toward myself and Preston.
In theory, many of our pastor’s sermons were life changing, and normally I listen attentively. But today my heart just isn’t in it. Annoyingly, I keep seeing flashes of what Preston’s wet clothes looked like as they pressed tightly to his body. It didn’t help that I was looking around for where Preston sat. Did he not return to service? Why would he not return? Why am I so worried? He’s not even around, and I’m frustrated with him.
“Ahem.” Some old man clears his throat behind me. I shake my head and try to concentrate on the pastor. He needs a haircut.
“Ahem.” The man behind me really needs to get a cough drop. What is this person’s problem? Looking in the direction of the offending person, I almost choke on my gum. “Preston!” I say rather loudly as I realize Mr. Old Man is not Mr. Old Man at all, but my irritating fireman, clearing his throat, so I’d move my body, so he could sit.
Scooting over, while trying to keep my mouth shut, I give him ample space to sit down with room to spare. However, he doesn’t take the hint to sit far away, but instead sits rather close. Too close. So there he is smirking, like he has something to be smirking about. So I decide, in true middle school fashion, to write him a note.
What are you doing?
Um, listening to the sermon? And seriously, why are you passing notes in church, we aren’t ten anymore. Plus what makes you think I even want notes from you?
I hate you.
Doubtful.
You make me want to scream.
I’m sure I do.
Um, not in excitement, you moron.
Ouch, are you always this mean to the guys you like?
LIKE?!? Have you completely lost your mind? It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have to not stab you with my pencil.
Like you could make it through my muscle.
I wouldn’t know.
Sure you wouldn’t.
If you refer to your body one more time, I’m jumping up and screaming fire.
You wouldn’t.
Don’t tempt me.
I think I already am.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhh
Wow…a woman of many words.
You don’t want to know the words I’m thinking right now, Mr. Fireman. Why are you even sitting here?
I didn’t want to cause a scene by walking past you and having you trip me.
Oh, so you’re aware of how I feel about you?
Yes, uncomfortably aware.
What is that supposed to mean?
Has anyone ever told you that you hold a lot of rage for such a small person? What are you, five-two?
Five-three, and yes the extra inch does matter. I do not have rage, and if I’m angry toward someone, they obviously did something to frustrate me in the first place.
What? Breathe?
Close.
Whatever. You have issues. Stick with decaf, panda.
WHO TOLD YOU TO CALL ME PANDA?
Are you yelling with your pencil now?
WHO!
Kristin, of course.
…………
What, no response?
NO, I just have nothing good to say. Don’t call me that, ever. I would never tell her, but I don’t like being referred to as a panda. They’re fat and lazy.
You’re anything but that.
Gee thanks. I want my life back.
What?
You read me. I want my life back. My life before you started ruining it and being all Decemberish and swooping in punching things and running next to me and, you get the picture. I want it back. I’m taking it back. I’m ignoring you from now on!
Ok.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I thought you were ignoring me.
I break the pencil in half and put it into his warm and surprisingly large hands. This guy is big. Not only is his height impressive, but the size of his shoulders and hands dwarf me. It’s quite intimidating, and attractive. At present, I don’t appreciate feeling either emotion.
“Everyone stand for the benediction.”
I can feel the heat of his body and lean closer just in time to see him wink at me. So I look away as if I touched a hot oven and scowl. He must think he’s so great, that all girls fall at his feet. Well, I’m not one of them. Being a successful Visual Merchandiser at Macy's is great for my confidence level. Kristin is the HR director and ended up hiring me to style the clothes. I also do other stores on the side. I don’t need his approval or anyone else’s. Nice pep talk, I feel better already. Those are always the best.