I opened my mouth to say something. Anything. I had to dispel this wild energy arching between us.
How had it happened? It seemed to come out of nowhere. Or maybe it had been building since that moment at the gate. When I had told Pastor to let him in…
“Sara, are you in here? They’re waiting for you in the dining hall—”
Mom came into our house, full of irritation and ready disapproval. I backed up with a jolt. Bastian’s face shuttered and closed.
Mom came up short, her hand on the door knob, eyes flashing as she took in me. Took in Bastian. Took in the two of us. Alone. Could she read the tension between us? Did she know what it meant?
Whatdidit mean?
It meant that Bastian was changing everything about me.
“Hello, Bastian,” she said, her voice low and chilled.
“Good evening, Ms. Bishop. How are you?” Bastian asked, all easy smiles and laid-back confidence. But his eyes were cold. He didn’t like my mother. I was learning to read him well.
My mother’s face was hard as she regarded the young man standing in the middle of her home. “I’m well, thank you. It’s time for dinner. You should go on,” she told him.
Bastian glanced at me, his brow furrowed. I could see the stubbornness. The ironclad will that would only get him into trouble.
Here, that wasn’t permitted. I pled silently for him to give up this fight. Just this once.
“I had planned to walk with Sara, if that’s all right.”
“Actually, I need to talk to Sara for a minute, you go ahead,” she said, her tone firm and unyielding.
Bastian, for once, had the good sense to know that rebelliousness wouldn’t work. Not with my mother. It would only be met with consequences. Argument was futile.
“See you there?” He was gentle and sweet. It warmed me.
“Yes. I’ll see you in a minute,” I answered.
Mom stood there like a stone sentry. Watching and judging. She waited for the door to close behind Bastian before turning to me, her demeanor slightly crazed. Unhinged. Mom didn’t take loss of control lightly. She had always fought hard and dirty to keep me where she wanted me.
On the fringes of her life, but under her thumb, doing what I was supposed to.
“What was that?” she demanded.
I could play dumb. Pretend I didn’t know what she was referring to.
I was adept at denial.
But I couldn’t deny those few moments hadn’t meant something. Because they had. I was falling for Bastian. Slowly and deeply. It was a life changing kind of experience. Like waking up from a dream only to realize that it was your reality.
It was beautiful. It filled me with hope.
Yet, I also felt the shame.
The self-loathing.
I felt as though I was betraying everything and everyone because of that vicious twist in my belly when Bastian was near.
There were only two certainties in my life. One was that I was meant to walk a particular path. My fate was set. I wasn’t meant to question it.
And the other was that the way my insides tumbled and turned when he looked at me would be my undoing. Because those questions I wasn’t supposed to ask bubbled up in my brain with a force that would, without a doubt, destroy everything.
I was eighteen years old and I had never permitted myself to think of anything beyond The Gathering. Beyond The Awakening.
