For Sure & Certain by Anya Monroe Read Free Book Online Page B

in your own skin?” she asked.
    “I suppose it’s not something I think of that much. When I look in the mirror it’s not as if I think, hmm, there’s an Amish guy. I mean, do you look in the mirror and think hmm there’s an English girl?”
    “I don’t. I stopped thinking about things like that when I just decided to be me.”
    “So you get it.”
    “I get it.”
    Abel looked at her and believed the words of this wispy girl, because she didn’t pause at mirrors when she walked through the museum or self-consciously tug at her clothes. She spent the entire afternoon smiling and laughing,  not texting people or tiptoeing around their differences.
    She was present; she wasn’t like the other girls. The ones in his accounting course who constantly typed on tiny screens, not noticing that a guy right next to them was attempting to make eye contact, or the Amish girls like Esther who constantly wanted to force a relationship that wasn’t there.
    Just Marigold.
    Later that afternoon in the taxi home, Abel asked for her phone number.
    “Be warned, I don’t usually call girls. And by usually I mean never.”
    “You’ve never called a girl?”
    “Not once.”
    “So I’ll be your first?”
    It was a sexual innuendo and they both knew it, but instead of the air getting charged with nervous energy, they both just laughed.
    “Yes, Marigold, you will be the very first girl, if you’ll let me.”
    “You don’t have to, you know. Call me. This could be like a one time random day, where a girl meets a guy at a coffee shop and they walk around a museum. Like a romantic comedy, without the romance, I mean not necessarily. What I mean is, don’t feel obligated to be my friend or whatever.”
    “I don’t really do things out of obligation. I do what I want, for sure and certain.”
    When the driver dropped him off on campus, Marigold told him she lived just two blocks over, next to the Catholic Church on the corner.
    “I’ll see you,” he said, through the open car door.
    “You will.”
     
     
    Marigold
     
                  The house was quiet when she returned from the museum. Meeting Abel had been weird, and the entire day had been like this vortex. Like the two of them were sucked in a vacuum where no one else existed. Life wasn’t always that unexpected and breezy, it had been the sort of reprieve she needed.
    Marigold went to her room to change into more comfortable clothes, bloomers exchanged for her dress and soft slippers in place of her boots. Pulling her phone out of her messenger bag she plugged it into the charger, realizing it had died at some point when she was out with Abel. Her cheeks blushed remembering him, his smile, gentle words, and convictions.
    She wanted to call him even though they had just said good-bye. She knew this was irrational, they hardly knew one another, and besides, she wasn’t the sort of girl for him. He was smart in ways she wasn’t, but also, and more importantly, he was Amish. Marigold accidentally wore see-through dresses and cursed when she forgot her wallet and she was far from religious. She’d never gone to Sunday school.
                  Her phone buzzed to life and she saw there were a dozen missed texts from her mom and brother. She intentionally avoided checking her phone and email and no longer belonged to any social networks. She joked that Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter and YouTube were all trigger words. She said it like a joke, but it wasn’t. They really did make her anxious, embarrassed.
    Her family knew this about her, how useless it was to even try to get in touch with her this way, so she was confused at their communication as she scrolled through the texts that has come over the course of the afternoon, suddenly scared something serious had happened.
    Mom: Please call.
    Mom: Where are you? Don’t freak out. He didn’t mean it like that.
    Mom: Seriously worrying us. Please call, are you alone?
    Cedar: He’s a dick. I’ll stop by