I run my finger along my mother’s charm necklace out of habit. “What do you mean by saved?”
“Saved means baptized. And Heather can make the road to that step very intense. Look. I want to hang out with you. Why do you think I’m taking this chance?” His eyes seem genuinely conflicted, and I let myself look into them a few seconds too long under the dim glow of the aquarium lights.
“I’ve been studying with Heather every day. I’m even going to church with her soon.”
Josh runs his hand through his hair. “There’s more to it than that. I mean, there’s more to learn in the BTs, and when you’re baptized, it’s probably a little different than what you’re thinking. You have to be dunked all the way underwater.”
“That’s no big deal. Half my friends back home were baptized that way.”
“But …” He fidgets with his shirt before looking into my eyes; his expression is earnest, almost vulnerable. “It’s so much more than a technicality,” Josh says.
“What is it, then?” I ask. I narrow my eyes in concentration, eager to understand, yet also hoping it won’t be something like believing we’re all secretly inhabited by aliens from another planet. A mother with a stroller moves toward us to get a closer look at the glass. Josh and I step to the side, making room for them.
“Okay,” he continues. He nudges my arm and we step into another empty spot by the glass for privacy. He’s almost whispering. “Just imagine the worst things that ever have happened to you. Or the worst decisions you ever made. Everything in your life you’ve ever regretted.” His eyes gleam with a sincerity so rare with guys my age. “Have you ever wanted to feel free of those things for good? To know there’s no way they can ever come back to haunt you?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. I stare at the fish again, pretend to watch them swim, but Josh’s words are stirring something in a long-hidden corner of my heart. It’s hard to remember a time when I haven’t been generally depressed on good days and with acute heart-wrenching pain on the bad ones.
“Here’s what I know,” he continues, breaking me out of my own thoughts. “Those negative things can be completely erased. All of it. Everything in your future can be freed from your past. I wish I could describe the feeling I had at my baptism. It was basically pure … relief.” His expression turns sheepish, like he’s a little embarrassed to have revealed something so personal.
“It sounds amazing,” I say, eager to dispel any awkwardness. “I mean, sign me up for the zero-negativity life.” I lift my hand to mock-volunteer. Joking closes the door to the protected part of my heart that was stirring just moments ago.
As Josh laughs, I can see relief replace his unease from before. Then he leans into me and brushes his fingertip along my cheek. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”
My head feels like it’s swimming sideways, even though I’m trying everything within my power to stay composed. “So,” I say, my protective defenses still up. “Important question. Once I’m dunked, do we still have to hide back here with these stingrays?”
Josh lets out a laugh. “Only if you want to.” He gives me an amused side glance—a there’s-more-to-you-than-I-expected look—before casually taking my hand. As I twine my fingers into his, something hits me: Maybe it’s finally possible to be the real me here in Boston. Or an even better me. The confident almost-adult me living in a big city holding hands with a nice guy I could be really into.
We stroll to another window and stop where the view appears so different that it seems like a completely separate world. A few elementary kids in school uniforms crowd to our window. They squeal and jump back as an enormous stingray glides up against it, revealing its stark underbelly. Josh gently pulls me away to walk through every corner of the entire aquarium, not saying much beyond pointing out cool fish, our hands still connected, until we finally have no other option than to spiral back down and exit the building.
His hand lets go of mine when he opens the door, and my disappointment catches me off-guard. The brightness outside is blinding, maybe too bright to hold hands out in the open. We stand awkwardly, exposed in the afternoon sun after being in the dim aquarium, not knowing what to do next.
“So …,” I say like an open-ended question.
He looks around as if scanning the crowd before looking back at me with a strained expression. “So, can you promise me something?”
I lift my chin, curious. “What?”
“Listen. I know I already said not to mention our phone calls to Heather, but do you think we could keep today just between us? I feel terrible asking because she’s your friend. She may not understand, though….”
I exhale a defiant sigh. “Understand what? We’re just … hanging out. I really don’t get why it’s such a big deal.” I glance away, annoyed by his mixed signals. Why would he kill the mood like this?
Josh opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it. He lowers his voice and looks into my eyes. “It’s kind of a rule that I can’t quote-unquote officially hang out with you until you finish all the steps. No one wants you to feel pressured. And I really want to … hang out with you.” He smiles. Butterflies whirl through my body, dissipating some of my aggravation.
While the secretiveness is annoying and I don’t like the idea of keeping things from my only friend in Boston, the Kingdom is clearly important to Josh. And if he’s willing to break the rules for me, the least I can do is keep quiet.
Desperate to drag this day out as long as possible, I scan the Long Wharf harbor, past the flurry of people and tents. The toothpick masts of distant sailboats levitate above the water. A water horn blares off the triangular huddle of old brick buildings. My eye catches a ferry sitting restlessly in its dock. “Well, I don’t actually see Heather anywhere around here. Do you?”
“Nope,” he says.
“I think I know how we can hang out just a little bit longer today,” I say.
This time, I take his hand and lead him to the dock.
* * *
“You’re late.” Heather tilts her head back and peers down her nose at me.
I’m also sweaty and trying to catch my breath. After the ferry, I realized the time and rushed back to my dorm, but I wasn’t fast enough. Heather was already waiting for me at my door.
“I’m so sorry. I lost track of time….” I trail off, not wanting to say too much.
She makes a disgusted face as I walk past her into the room. “Why do you smell like fish?”
“I was walking.” I fidget with my shirt. “By the river.”
“Oh.” She sounds surprised I wasn’t out doing something to warrant a lecture. “Well, call me next time so I can go with you. Meredith has been on my case about exercising. I need to lose at least fifteen pounds to meet my goals.”
I let out a relieved breath. “I promise.”
“Listen, I have to go set up for our meeting, and you stink. Please take a shower before you come. Your appearance directly affects my ability to lead—”
“I’ll be ready,” I interrupt, already pulling clothes out of my closet.