"Oh," I said dejectedly, "that's okay. We can talk out here, I guess." If I'd had my way, I would have done this inside.

"Would you like some lemonade while we sit?" she asked. "I just made some."

"I'd love some," I said.

"I'll be right back." She walked back into the house, but she left the door open and I took a quick glance around. The house, I noticed, was small but tidy, with a piano against one wall and a sofa against the other. A small fan sat oscillating in the corner. On the coffee table there were books with names like Listening to Jesus and Faith Is the Answer. Her Bible was there, too, and it was opened to the chapter on Luke.

A moment later Jamie returned with the lemonade, and we took a seat in two chairs near the corner of the porch. I knew she and her father sat there in the evenings because I passed by their house now and then. As soon as we were seated, I saw Mrs. Hastings, her neighbor across the street, wave to us. Jamie waved back while I sort of scooted my chair so that Mrs. Hastings couldn't see my face. Even though I was going to ask Jamie to the dance, I didn't want anyone—even Mrs. Hastings—to see me there on the off chance that she'd already accepted Carey's offer. It was one thing to actually go with Jamie, it was another thing to be rejected by her in favor of a guy like Carey.

"What are you doing?" Jamie asked me. "You're moving your chair into the sun."

"I like the sun," I said. She was right, though. Almost immediately I could feel the rays burning through my shirt and making me sweat again.

"If that's what you want," she said, smiling. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Jamie reached up and started to adjust her hair. By my reckoning, it hadn't moved at all. I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself, but I couldn't force myself to come out with it just yet.

"So," I said instead, "you were at the orphanage today?"

Jamie looked at me curiously. "No. My father and I were at the doctor's office."

"Is he okay?"

She smiled. "Healthy as can be."

I nodded and glanced across the street. Mrs. Hastings had gone back inside, and I couldn't see anyone else in the vicinity. The coast was finally clear, but I still wasn't ready.

"Sure is a beautiful day," I said, stalling.

"Yes, it is."

"Warm, too."

"That's because you're in the sun."

I looked around, feeling the pressure building. "Why, I'll bet there's not a single cloud in the whole sky."

This time Jamie didn't respond, and we sat in silence for a few moments.

"Landon," she finally said, "you didn't come here to talk about the weather, did you?"

"Not really."

"Then why are you here?"

The moment of truth had arrived, and I cleared my throat.

"Well . . . I wanted to know if you were going to the homecoming dance."

"Oh," she said. Her tone made it seem as if she were unaware that such a thing existed. I fidgeted in my seat and waited for her answer.

"I really hadn't planned on going," she finally said.

"But if someone asked you to go, you might?"

It took a moment for her to answer.

"I'm not sure," she said, thinking carefully. "I suppose I might go, if I got the chance. I've never been to a homecoming dance before."

"They're fun," I said quickly. "Not too much fun, but fun." Especially when compared to my other options, I didn't add.

She smiled at my turn of phrase. "I'd have to talk to my father, of course, but if he said it was okay, then I guess I could."

In the tree beside the porch, a bird started to chirp noisily, as if he knew I wasn't supposed to be here. I concentrated on the sound, trying to calm my nerves. Just two days ago I couldn't have imagined myself even thinking about it, but suddenly there I was, listening to myself as I spoke the magic words.

"Well, would you like to go to the dance with me?"

I could tell she was surprised. I think she believed that the little lead-up to the question probably had to do with someone else asking her. Sometimes teenagers sent their friends out to "scout the terrain," so to speak, so as not to face possible rejection. Even though Jamie wasn't much like other teenagers, I'm sure she was familiar with the concept, at least in theory.

Instead of answering right away, though, Jamie glanced away for a long moment. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach because I assumed she was going to say no. Visions of my mother, puke, and Carey flooded through my mind, and all of a sudden I regretted the way I'd behaved toward her all these years. I kept remembering all the times I'd teased her or called her father a fornicator or simply made fun of her behind her back. Just when I was feeling awful about the whole thing and imagining how I would ever be able to avoid Carey for five hours, she turned and faced me again. She had a slight smile on her face.

"I'd love to," she finally said, "on one condition."

I steadied myself, hoping it wasn't something too awful.

"Yes?"

"You have to promise that you won't fall in love with me."

I knew she was kidding by the way she laughed, and I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Sometimes, I had to admit, Jamie had a pretty good sense of humor. I smiled and gave her my word.

Chapter 3

As a general rule, Southern Baptists don't dance. In Beaufort, however, it wasn't a rule that was ever strictly enforced. The minister before Hegbert—don't ask me what his name was—took sort of a lax view about school dances as long as they were chaperoned, and because of that, they'd become a tradition of sorts. By the time Hegbert came along, it was too late to change things. Jamie was pretty much the only one who'd never been to a school dance and frankly, I didn't know whether she even knew how to dance at all.

I admit that I also had some concerns about what she would wear, though it wasn't something I would tell her. When Jamie went to the church socials—which were encouraged by Hegbert—she usually wore an old sweater and one of the plaid skirts we saw in school every day, but the homecoming dance was supposed to be special. Most of the girls bought new dresses and the boys wore suits, and this year we were bringing in a photographer to take our pictures. I knew Jamie wasn't going to buy a new dress because she wasn't exactly well-off. Ministering wasn't a profession where people made a lot of money, but of course ministers weren't in it for monetary gain, they were in it for the long haul, if you know what I mean. But I didn't want her to wear the same thing she wore to school every day, either. Not so much for me—I'm not that cold-hearted—but because of what others might say. I didn't want people to make fun of her or anything.

The good news, if there was any, was that Eric didn't rib me too bad about the whole Jamie situation because he was too busy thinking about his own date. He was taking Margaret Hays, who was the head cheerleader at our school. She wasn't the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, but she was nice in her own way. By nice, of course, I'm talking about her legs. Eric offered to double-date with me, but I turned him down because I didn't want to take any chances with Eric teasing Jamie or anything like that. He was a good guy, but he could be kind of heartless sometimes, especially when he had a few shots of bourbon in him.

The day of the dance was actually quite busy for me. I spent most of the afternoon helping to decorate the gym, and I had to get to Jamie's about a half hour early because her father wanted to talk to me, though I didn't know why. Jamie had sprung that one on me just the day before, and I can't say I was exactly thrilled by the prospect of it. I figured he was going to talk about temptation and the evil path it can lead us to. If he brought up fornication, though, I knew I would die right there on the spot. I said small prayers all day long in the hope of avoiding this conversation, but I wasn't sure if God would put my prayers on the front burner, if you know what I mean, because of the way I'd behaved in the past. I was pretty nervous just thinking about it.