The end of the world…
If he only knew.
“Well, a sin is a sin,” I retorted primly.
“And you’ve never wanted to try it? Just a little taste?” Bastian goaded, his pretty eyes twinkling mischievously.
“No, never,” I lied.
Because I had thought about it. I wondered why it was so awful. Why we were told it was wrong.
“Where is it?” he asked.
I stiffened. I didn’t like where this conversation was going. “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.” The tone of my voice was meant to shut the topic down.
Bastian clearly picked up on the hint.
“It’s probably for the best you haven’t been drunk. One time I thought it would be awesome to take five shots of tequila and get a tattoo. It cost me almost five hundred bucks to have Danger Mouse removed from my ass.”
I laughed. Loud and surprised. I saw Vince and Miriam glance our way. Again curious. I covered my mouth. Trying to stop the sound before it escaped again.
“Danger Mouse? On your…butt?”
Bastian snickered. “It was huge too. And really badly done. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I kind of wish I could have seen it,” I giggled.
Bastian raised an eyebrow and leaned in close to me. “If you want to see my…butt…you can just ask.”
He was flirting again. I didn’t know what to do with it. Withhim. My tongue felt too big for my mouth. My hands clumsy.
My face flamed hot and I had to clear my throat. Everything felt so close. So confined. Even outside in the open.
Bastian chuckled to himself and shrugged. “I may have regretted it, but it makes for a fun story.”
“I guess so.” We smiled at each other. I realized I liked his stories. They were interesting. Like him.
“Well, I think I’ve planted all the seeds,” he said, patting the dirt with his hand. He wiped his hands on his jeans. He was still wearing clothes from the outside. I found myself a little jealous of his soft cotton shirt and worn blue jeans. I smoothed the itchy skirt I was wearing. It wasn’t particularly nice. It was made from mismatched material leftover from other people’s clothing. I had patched it together crudely when I was running low on things to wear.
What I wouldn’t give for a pair of jeans and nice shirt…
That was vanity talking. Satan whispering in my ear, tempting me with thoughts I shouldn’t have.
I suddenly felt chilled from the inside out.
I liked talking to Bastian. It was easy. Natural. I liked the stories he had to tell. The things he shared.
But he twisted me up inside too. His pictures of a life before The Retreat were intriguing. I could only remember my own life in bits and pieces. Snippets of memories that floated in and out of my head without substance. It had been too long since I had lived off the mountain. The truth was the idea of what was out there terrified me. I had been told it was a dark, horrible place where people murdered each other and no one was safe.
But Bastian’s stories didn’t mention horrible things. They made him happy. They made me smile. I wanted to know more about his version of theoutside. What it was like beyond the gate.
And I shouldn’t be thinking like that.
Pastor had warned us that temptation could seep in without notice. Satan would use our natural curiosity to undo us. To force us from our path.
Perhaps Bastian was my test.
I was frightened I’d fail.
