The next Sunday at church is the most exciting day in town for every old woman, and the saddest day for every young man.

It’s a strange day because it’s cold for once in the South, but not any colder than 50 degrees. I am no longer underdressed whenever I visit thanks to Evangeline. She helped me pick out a suit and tie one day when we went into town and taught me about how much appearances matter.

So, I appear with her at church that Sunday and so does Charlie and Annabelle. They appear together, holding hands, talking about how they finally decided to stop wondering what-if.

I think it’s a joke up until I see Charlie bend over slightly to kiss her on the lips. Evangeline’s eyebrows lift up to the ceiling at the bold display of public affection. I find myself staring and blushing, my collar to tight around my neck, and I avert my eyes once I notice that I am staring.

The after-church picnic is sadly canceled, my true reasoning for wanting to come, but my prayers are answered when Pastor Grant announces that we’re just moving into the basement.

I am on my third cornbread muffin and still staring when Evangeline jabs me in the arm.

“Why,” I grumbled.

“Staring is rude, Nicholas. Take a picture at this point,” she tells me.

“I, I am not staring,” I lie.

“Then what is so interesting in that general direction,” she asks.

She points to where Annabelle and Charlie are sitting. They’re sitting on two plastic fold out chairs and talking to an old friend from high school, reminiscing and making jokes.

“I think it’s just a great place to look at,” I tell her.

“You shouldn’t lie inside a church,” she replies.

“I’m not lying,” I lie again.

“Yes, you are,” she says in a huff.

“I can’t be lying because my mouth is full.”

I stuff the last piece of cornbread in my mouth and Evangeline playfully grabs my plate away.

“If you’re gonna stare, at least don’t be so obvious,” she tells me.

I swallow the last bit of cornbread in my mouth and try my hardest to be suave. I lean in real close and whisper into Evangeline’s ear.

“You can never know when I’m staring, because whenever I do, you’re walking away.”

“Nicholas!”

People turn to look, and Evangeline’s pale face starts to sweat. She’s not a very good actor because she doesn’t seem angry at me. Maybe she’s angry that I said what I said in church.

“Yes Evangeline? What’s wrong?”

“…nothing,” she says quietly. “I’m gonna get some water.”

She walks away and I grin waiting for her to turn to look back. She does, and now she’s all flustered because I am watching. She turns back but now she walks differently, more self-aware of the way I am eating her body with my eyes and I do not think I will ever be full.

After church I try to drink as much of her beauty as I can by being alone with her.

I’m in her office, at the Nighthawk Diner.

The only light in the room comes from the window of the door, and the only sounds inside are our heavy breathing. I hoisted her up onto the desk and slip my tongue into her mouth.

We kiss and giggle in the dark, and my hands crawl up her skirt. She lets my hands travel and the taboo of it all excites me.

“Just an hour ago we were in church,” I whisper in her ear. “Now I’m inside of you.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” she replies.

I am not, because she lets me inside.

My fingers to be specific.

She latches on to me while I move inside, and her breathing gets shallower and deeper. Her heels fall off her feet when another finger enters, and she tries to not moan. Her hips shake when I move my fingers in a ‘come here’ motion and Evangeline has given up on keeping her voice down.

I want more of me inside of her but a small quiet voice in the back of my head tells me no, while Evangeline is moaning yes.

I tell myself that I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am not nervous. I try to quiet the voice in the back of my head, but it is getting louder when I quickly unbuckle my pants. The voice is now shouting when Evangeline’s hand slip into my boxers.

It’s silent when her hands start moving, and my mind goes blank. Dirty, foul things come out of Evangeline’s mouth, and I am unsure If I like it, and if I do, what does she have in store for me later on?

After more exploration of each other’s body I understand why I am so afraid to sleep with her, and it is not the idea of Jesus watching.

Later that night in bed I think about holding someone else but it is not her.

It is very hard to believe it’s December when it’s 80 degrees outside. Since it’s so warm out we all decided to go to the beach.

I have never to been to the beach in my life, but I don’t want to seem weird in front of Evangeline. I think I already have when she comes to get me with all the stuff I brought.

Her purple Jeep has the doors off, and in the back seat are Charlie and Annabelle. They’re wearing matching orange and white swimsuits.

I feel a bit jealous.

Should we be wearing matching outfits?

“Nicholas, you are aware this is a weekend trip,” Charlie asks me.

“Yes,” I mumble.

“I don’t think he’s aware Charles. Sir, did you pack the kitchen sink in there as well,” Annabelle asks me.

“If he didn’t, I can check for him,” Evangeline replies.

I try to hide my smile as I pack my stuff in the trunk. I’ve gotten used to their weird sense of humor and I’ve grown thicker skin, but I still feel like I’m missing something.

I forget whatever I’m missing when we speed down the highway.

I feel like I’m in college again, being reckless and stupid. Charlie and Annabelle are drinking in the back, daring each other to do something inappropriate and getting handsy. I try to ignore it and take a drink from the cooler.

Evangeline is a safer driver than Annabelle, but she still makes me fear if we will even make it to the beach alive. She, unlike Annabelle at least wears a seatbelt.

When we arrive at the beach my mind is fuzzy like television static. The lifeguard eyes me like I owe him money and Evangeline doesn’t let me in the water.

“I’m fine,” I tell her. “Just a little tipsy.”

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“Come on,” Evangeline says. “Get over here.”

Her soft hand takes mine, and I drunkenly follow her wherever. She softly talks to me like a toddler and sits me down on a giant towel that says “aloha time”.

I am tricked.

I’m in prison.

They keep me on dry land until I sober up, and I wonder if I subconsciously drank so I wouldn’t have to get in the water.

Impossible.

I know I lie to others but not myself.

Right?

I lie down to tan in the bliss of the sun, and when I wake up, I am put inside another prison.

My entire body is covered from the neck down in sand. Charlie is eating a sandwich and his eyes light up with glee when he sees me awake.

“You talk in your sleep,” he informed me.

“I know,” I lied.

“Wanna know what you said?”

“That you’re a public menace?”

He leans in real close to my face and I panic. I can’t break free and his breath on my ear makes my mind wander and my body tingle.

“You sure you don’t wanna know?”

“Tell me.”

I really hope it’s not about the myriad of conflicting feelings I’ve been having ever since the two of them have gotten together. I question if it’s real, or if I’m real as I hold my breath for the secret.

He blows into my ear.

I scream.

People turn to look while I’m being tortured by Charlie. Random strangers giggle and laugh, and I secretly plan my drunken revenge on him later that night.

He continues to whisper sweet nothings and blow into my ear, and I want him to knock it off but at the same time I don’t.

I don’t ask him to stop.

“Charlie what the hell are you doing!?”

Annabelle runs over and sees me stuck. I think she’s here to rescue me until she opens her mouth.

“I can’t believe you started without me,” she says.

“What,” I ask in disbelief.

She lies down next to me, and she copies Charlie’s torture tactics. Weird noises of frustration escape my mouth because I am now in trouble. I close my eyes and turn red as the inevitable happens.

My soldier salutes.

I tell myself it’s a natural reaction to touch, don’t overthink it, don’t sit up, don’t-

“We should get him out before the tide rises,” Annabelle says.

“Oh, shoot you’re right,” Charlie says.

They start to dig me out and I panic, trying to come up with a good reason to stay buried.

“I want to stay in,” I shout.

“The hell you on about, you’ll drown,” Charlie tells me.

They don’t stop digging me out and I accept my fate.

They stare at me like fish as I try to explain why I should stay.

“It’s really warm in here,” I mumble. “I think I’ll go back to sleep.”

Annabelle raises her eyebrows, leans in close and whispers in my ear.

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell Evangeline about what you said in your sleep.”

Bad thoughts swim in my mind and I’m confused as to what secret I said in my sleep that they have to hide from myself and Evangeline. I try to think of every bad thing I’ve done in my life, but I can’t think of anything worse than stealing a bag of chips at the age of ten.

Evangeline comes over to see what is happening and I prepare myself for a new level of torture.

“Oh darlin’, what have they done to you,” she asks me.

“Leave me to die.”

“No, you’re living a long, beautiful life,” Charlie tells me. “We’ll dig ya out, and you’ll live to be an old prune.”

The image of me turning into a giant, disgusting prune, stuffed into a pack with other old prunes makes my soldier sad.

Thank god.

They dig my drunk ass out of the sand and promise me they’ll wake me up if I fall asleep at the beach tomorrow.

Evangeline takes me by the hand again and my first day at the beach ends without still learning how to swim.