His To Keep

Chapter One

Romans 12:9

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.

I stood with boredom next to Gran as we sang a hymn along with the adult choir that was stood above us on a balcony. It was Sunday and the blazing sun was beating down on St Mary’s Church, roasting nearly all the town's inhabitants that had attended church today.

“Stop fidgeting, Ava,” my Gran scolded in a hushed whisper, afterwards she continued waving a white fan at her face to keep cool. I found myself rolling my eyes as I stopped shifting from foot to foot, but it was no use, it was too hot. I could even feel a droplet of sweat slipping down my back.

Soon, I found myself looking around the packed church, seeing the same familiar faces I always see every week. I smiled when I spotted Adam, my best friend since we were little, standing next to his parents and four year old sister a few pews back. His sister, Maggie was growing fidgety and annoyed with the posessive heat and was dangling from Adam's mother, trying to hit her with a bible.

I found myself laughing a little, until I felt a nudge on my arm from Gran. When I turned to face her, she was giving me one of her warning, narrowed eyed looks. I pursed my lips together and continued singing along with everybody else.

After the song finished finally, we watched as the priest stepped out from behind a curtain and motioned for us all to sit down so he could start mass. As soon as he started talking, I zoned out. It wasn’t that I was being disrespectful, it was just Father Aaron, our priest, spoke about near enough the same thing each week and it was too hot to listen to him talk about sins and protecting our innocence.

When it was time to receive The Body of Christ in the form of bread, I almost cried out in joy. It meant that mass would soon be over and I could finally get out of this oven that was sucking the life out of me.

I followed Gran and stood in a queue down the aisle leading up towards the alter. I felt a tap on my shoulder from behind and when I looked, Adam was stood there with a wide grin on his face. I smiled back as he leaned in and whispered, “Want to hang out after this?”

"Sure," I whispered back, but all too soon, I caught a disapproving look from Gran and Francesca, a girl my age and in most of my classes at school.

I sighed and looked away from them both. Gran doesn't like me speaking to boys, even though she knows Adam and I are just friends. But, she thinks he's a bad influence on me. As for Francesca, she constantly blames me that Adam isn't noticing her, which I have no idea what she even means by that.

Adam was considered the best looking boy at our school, St Mary's. He's attractive, athletic and tall. His best feature were definitely his mop of soft, brown curls that girl's seem to love. Not only is he popular, his family are rich and Adam is known as the golden boy next in-line to inherit a fortune. Francesca has wanted to be his girlfriend for ages, but Adam hasn't asked her out, and I don't think he was planning to either. Adam was known as a bit of a player, it was the only thing I didn't like about him.

I put my palms out in front of me as the line started growing smaller. I went over to kneel down on the maroon, leather cushion next to Gran as the priest edged nearer towards us with the bread in his hands.

I looked up and my eyes met Father Aaron's. Immediately, I felt my body shrivelling from his emotionless expression. My body grew colder and my throat dry. It was a feeling I always got whenever I was around him and I didn't understand why.

I diverted my gaze downwards and could hear the swishing of his black, priest uniform as he came closer towards me. Father Aaron wasn't an old priest, in fact he was relatively young and wasn't the stereotypical type of priest people are accustomed to.

His hair was as black as midnight, with not one greying strand in sight. His eyes were the coldest pair of blue eyes I had ever seen in my life. They reminded me of ice, so piercing, yet so emotionless. Considering the heat in the church, he made me feel cold.

The last priest we had was well known, but died from old age last year. Father Aaron had come from out of town to be our new priest, but no one knew much about him. Gran said he kept to himself.

I glanced up when he was standing in front of me. I swallowed nervously as I watched a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Sometimes, and I don't know where I get this from, but it's almost as if he knew I was scared.