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It’s 3am and Grace Chasity is pacing around her room, anxiously drumming her fingers against her crossed arms. Despite how late it is, she can’t sleep. Her parents have long since gone to bed, kissed her on the cheek and sent her off to sleep too. But Grace is waiting for something and she needs to be ready for it.
Like a child waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve, Grace has spent the quiet passing hours trying to do anything and everything to keep herself awake. Reading books only to forget everything she just read on the page, playing games with herself, tracing patterns in her wallpaper like a Victorian woman on bedrest.
The minutes felt like hours as they crept by, taunting Grace with their unwavering dedication to continue at their constant pace. She had nearly fallen asleep a few times before the anxious-excitement in her stomach pulled her from rest.
For what must be the millionth time, Grace turns around to check the clock. It feels like she’s been waiting for centuries in these few hours, time dragging on against her will. It’s nearly go-time with no sign of what she’s waiting for and Grace is thrumming with need to just begin already.
There’s a rapping at her window and Grace starts, immediately scrambling over to open it.
It started off on the playground.
Mark Chasity and Joseph Gregory Jägerman had been friends since college, old buddies so close they may as well have been brothers. Mark had always been very involved in the church, which was the subject of much teasing from Greg. Still, their friendship was one built on mutual respect and understanding. Mark got married first, settling down with his high school sweetheart Karen before slowly deciding to build a family. It took Greg a little longer to settle down, but as soon as he was married he already had a kid toddling about his household.
Mark and Greg were such good friends, it seemed only fitting that when they had kids of their own that the kids should be friends too.
Max Jägerman was upside down on the monkey bars when he first saw Grace Chasity. She stood politely beside her mother while her father chatted absentmindedly with his own. Max had been hoping his dad would be watching the trick he learned just for his dad. Instead, there was a little girl with pigtails and clips shaped like butterflies watching him with wide eyes. Maybe it was the blood rushing to his head, but had a feeling from somewhere deep down, something in him knowing that she was going to be important. He nearly fell off the bar he was swinging from. Shaking off the alarm, he flipped back up and jumped off, immediately making a beeline for the girl with the wide eyes.
Max nearly skids to a stop beside his dad, shoving his hand out. It’s covered in dirt, and his dad clears his throat pointedly. Max quickly rubs his palms on his jeans to clean them off before sticking his hand back out for the girl. He grins, a little gap in his smile from the first tooth he lost just a few weeks ago.
“Hi! I’m Max.”
Grace looks up at her mother and father, and it’s only when she’s given a slight nod of approval that she takes his.
“I’m Grace.”
The summer before First Grade passed without much fanfare. Every day or so Max and Grace would meet up at the park and play for hours, unaware of the things their parents would discuss on the bench as they watched the two play. Even as school began and free time became more scarce, the kids would always beg their parents for playdates at the park on the edge of Pinebrook.
Grace was the creative of the two, always coming up with little plots to their adventures. One day they were knight and princess, battling a dragon. The next they were pirates plundering the other kids of their treasure. Max was already a tall and energetic kid, climbing and scrambling about, but that energy combined with a child’s limb awareness was not a good mix. He was always getting bumps and scrapes. Sometimes, though, he showed up to play with a new band-aid that Grace didn’t recognize, making her think that maybe he was playing at their park without her.
One fateful playdate, they were traversing the depths of an ancient temple under the jungle gym and Max pushed forth with just a bit too much gusto. He hadn’t been looking where he was going and smacked his head into part of the jungle gym, splitting his lip. They were a little out of sight under the playset, but Grace was there immediately to help. Max was bleeding and their parents weren’t there to fix him up, so Grace did what her mom always told her was the very best medicine and the cure for any injury: she kissed Max.
It was over before it had even begun. Just a quick peck like her mother had done to every bruised or scraped knee her entire life. It tasted like blood, the little bit that hadn’t already scabbed over smearing on Grace’s own lips.
It was nothing, but it was the beginning of the end.
When Grace pulled back she found herself in the shadow of her parents, her father’s hand grasping at her arm and tugging her back and away. There was yelling, loud and overlapping, but Grace could hardly hear it from where her head was forcibly tucked into her mother’s stomach. The Chasity’s were appalled at their daughter’s indiscretion and even more so at Joseph's enabling. Excuses of being a “heartbreaker when he grows up” were hardly a comfort to the Chasity’s.
Max could hardly hear the yelling too, but for a vastly different reason. He had quickly grown used to his father’s raised voice and, in turn, quickly learned to tune it out. Covering his ears only made things worse.
The yelling seemed to never end and, before either of the kids knew it, they were home.
From that day onward, Grace Chasity was forbidden from ever seeing Maxwell Jägerman again.
The first day of Second Grade came around, and Max and Grace sat across the room from each other.
The years passed. Max only grew taller and more rambunctious, he excelled at sports and found a particular fondness for football. Grace buried herself in her studies and her church; keeping her eyes down kept them from wandering to the boy that used to be her friend.
But bans don’t ever actually stop something from happening. They just force people to go underground.
It’s the first day of 7th Grade, and Grace has never been more prepared for a day of school ever before. Her mother had just spoken to her about the dangers of middle school – puberty poses a terrible threat to the purity of the student body, and it’s Grace’s duty to protect herself and her friends.
That is, if she had friends. The past few years had proven to be a little harder for Grace, as very few people were appropriate friends for her. Or… Would just leave outright when she started talking. Not important. A new year, a new school, a new shot.
She walks through the halls with her head held high, Bible clutched close to her chest.
Max, on the other hand, had flourished. He gained friends easily, being taken in over the summer by the older kids on the sports teams. He was already tall and quick, with a lot of potential. Max was just about guaranteed to make the team, no matter how much training he put in. He was with the team even now, running around the halls and throwing their football around in ‘preparation’ for the upcoming team tryouts. Someone yelled out “Go long!” and Max took off running.
So focused on the ball was Max, that he hardly noticed when someone was standing behind him directly in his path.
The ball slammed into Max and, at the exact same moment, Max slammed into Grace. The both of them fell tumbling to the floor, a picture of cliche.
The bible Grace was clutching goes flying, an audible “oof!” escaping her as she finds herself sandwiched between the floor and the weight of another person. Max pushes himself up his palms and catches the eye of a girl with wide eyes and butterfly clips in her hair. Grace’s brain goes blank for just a moment, before she shoves Max off her, scrambling to stand up and dust herself off. Max follows, a little dazed.
He’s shot up in the past few years, having to look significantly down at Grace in a way he never had to when they were both kids on the playground. It’s not an unwelcome sight, the view always better from above. She still wears her hair in those pigtails, the clips holding back her bangs she just started growing out. Max opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but Grace beats him to it.
“ Don’t say anything . I was never here, you never saw me.” Grace scans the ground, quickly picking up her Bible and the football in rapid succession. She pushes the ball into Max’s chest and his hands fumble to grab hold of it, something he’s never had trouble with before. “Our parents don’t have to know about this.”
Before Max can get a word in edgewise, Grace turns on her heel and walks away. She inspects the Bible for damage and sure enough, there’s a break in the spine of the book. Now the book will forever want to open directly to Peter 4:8.
The bell rings and Grace turns a corner out of Max’s view. His friends finally catch up, slamming hands on his shoulders with words of encouragement and teasing about “getting some with the hot Christian girl.” He briefly catches someone say something about “repressed chicks being the biggest freaks,” but his mind isn’t all there. His train of thought had departed with the girl he used to know.
Max laughs off any and all insinuation of him catching any sort of feelings for Grace. But the odd sort of fluttering in his stomach that first starts up when he catches sight of Grace absolutely tearing Brad Callahan a new one during lunch break tells him that Grace might be more important than 6 year old Max ever could have thought.
Middle school comes and goes mostly without anything truly eventful. The two years were over before the class knew it, and then they were being shipped off to High School.
Max was quickly taken in by the upperclassmen in sports, just like he was in Middle School. He’s filled out his frame, going from tall and lanky to tall and built, an intimidating figure roaming the halls of Hatchetfield High, even as a Freshman. He’s learned how to force his way into and out of situations, solving problems with fists rather than words. Max quickly climbed the ranks of the social ladder, entering high school with the full support of his class and the classes above. When he made Quarterback of Junior Varsity as a Freshman his friends cheered for him, and it almost made up for the lack of response he got from his dad.
Max Jägerman is the undisputed king of their class, set to inherit the whole school when he moves up a few grades. He knows it, carries himself like the whole school is below him when he walks through the halls.
There’s a locker open in his path and, with practiced ease, he slides up to slam it in the face of whichever nerd was dumb enough to exist in the same hall as him.
Grace is lucky enough to get her fingers out of the way before the locker slams shut on her. If middle school was a cesspool of sin and hormones, then high school was Hell on Earth. Still, Grace had a goal in life and a path that she was not intending to stray from. She whips her head around at whatever mouth-breather was dead set on torturing her today.
Max Jägerman is once again face to face with a girl with wide eyes and butterfly clips in her hair, only she’s less of a girl now. She’s cut her hair, doing away with the pigtails. Her hair ends around her chin, framing her face in a way that makes weird but familiar feelings start to stir up in his stomach.
The third time’s the charm, and Max won’t let Grace get away from him again. He runs ahead, cutting her off before Grace can turn a corner and he loses sight of her.
“Hey– Grace, where are you going?”
“To class. Where else would I be going.” Grace says with a huff. “We aren’t supposed to be friends anymore. You know that.”
Max rolls his eyes dramatically, his whole head following the motion. “Okay, and?”
“And?” Grace squints, staring at Max like he just grew a third head. “And that means you can’t talk to me.”
Max leans against the lockers, practiced motions learned from his older friends and the few actual lessons his dad instilled in him. He leans in just a little bit, inching closer to Grace. “I’m doing it right now. Plus I don’t see any signs saying it’s illegal to talk to a fellow classmate.”
Grace simply scoffs, pushing past Max with little thought. She doesn’t get far, though, Max quickly pivoting and grabbing onto her wrist to keep her nearby.
“Wait– Hang on, just– Gimme a minute, kay?"
“Let go of me, Max. You know exactly what our parents would say about this–”
“Doesn’t Jesus preach about forgiveness? Kumbaya and all that shit? I– Listen,” Max lowers his voice, there’s no one else in the hall yet he speaks like anyone could be watching. He loosens his grip on Grace’s wrist, giving her the chance to actually leave if she really wanted to.
“I… I missed hanging out with you, alright? Our folks were kinda stupid for making us stop hanging out back then I– Just gimme one shot. If you hate me still you can keep doing that, I won’t keep barking up this tree. No one even needs to find out, I can keep a secret.”
Grace sighs, it’s… Been a long time since she’s had actual friends. Max just might have been the last real friend she actually had, all the way back in 1st grade. But he was a friend she wasn’t supposed to have. She should break off and avoid Max until graduation day. It’s what her parents would want. But… Forgiveness is a core tenet of her faith…
“Alright, fine. But no one finds out about this.”
It’s 3am, 6 hours after Max Jägerman won his first Homecoming game against Clivesdale as Quarterback of the Hatchetfield Nighthawks. It’s his senior year and, just as everyone expected, he was immediately instated as Quarterback.
His grades have been better than they’ve ever been, especially since he learned about his Dyslexia. He can’t take all the credit for that discovery, though, he had the help of an amazing tutor. He actually has hopes of getting into a decent college now, though he’s still not sure what he’ll major in. He’s got a shot at a football scholarship, too.
He’s still got a bit of a short temper and an image to maintain as king, but maybe that image doesn’t have to come at the cost of as many broken bones — his or otherwise.
Max used to worry that his life would be over after high school, but now he’s not so scared.
The after party was absolutely insane, cheerleaders and football players and nondescript popular people all drinking and smoking and partying to their heart’s content. Max’s friends were… A lot, to say the least. But Max wasn’t drinking, not heavily at least. He had bigger and better things in mind.
At 2am he sends all his friends home, though a few stragglers remain passed out on his couch. He’ll deal with them in the morning. Once his house has been cleared, he starts on a new mission.
First comes the bottle of fancy red wine he stole from his parents, pulled loose from its hiding spot lodged between his mattress and his bed frame. He carefully tosses it in a backpack, one he should be using for classwork but never does. A few other items get shoved in the backpack, a warm hoodie, a few cups, and his keys, before he heads out the door and rev’s his car’s engine.
He parks a few blocks down, willing to make the short walk. It’s the smart move, too. His bright red Jeep is very noticeable and would be a dead giveaway for his presence, he’s not technically supposed to be here. But when has Max Jägerman ever cared for rules?
Max settles the backpack over his shoulders and makes quick work of the few block walk. Next step: Climbing. The primary reason he wasn’t drinking all that heavily. Climbing while shitfaced is a recipe for disaster. He’d found that out after one of the first times he’s tried this. But he’s not drunk now, and he scales a tree in record time, reaching out to rap on the window in front of him. He’s always been grateful he was good at climbing trees when he was a kid.
Within seconds, Max is greeted by the familiar sight of a girl with wide eyes and butterfly clips in her hair. No matter how many times he sees her, the sight of Grace Chasity never fails to knock the air right out of his lungs.
Grace opens the window and Max tumbles through with practiced ease. The sneaking around, while not ideal, has become their normal. Their parents still don’t care for each other and contact is still expressly forbidden, but the two of them grew close and teenagers are built for rebellion.
Grace can’t stop herself from smiling, helping Max back to his feet.
“You were amazing! Absolutely destroyed those stupid Chemists!” Without thinking, Grace rushes forward to wrap her arms around Max in a hug.
It’s… A new development for them, the touching. Grace spent the first few years of their slowly redeveloping friendship shying away from any possible physical contact with Max, scared of tainting herself. Over the course of the years, though, she’s had more than her fair share of crises of faith, each resulting in more and more personal freedom for Grace. Still, the hug is a relatively new development.
Grace hugs tight, and Max hardly has time to set his backpack down before his lungs are being crushed by an excited Grace. He returns the gesture, of course, the novelty of getting to hug Grace Chasity not lost on him. She feels good in his arms, soft and warm. It’s over too quickly for Max’s taste, Grace pulling back to talk excitedly about the happenings of the game.
She had snuck out to watch the game, hiding in the stands of the opposing team so no one would recognize her. The lengths she’d go to in order to see Max play… Grace still doesn’t fully understand the rules, but Max is teaching her. Slowly but surely. Her voice was rough when she got back home from her constant screaming, but she blamed it on a particularly effective protest when her parents questioned her.
Max lets Grace talk, watching entranced for just a moment. The weird feeling he has when he looks at her returns and he clears his throat, pivoting the subject to the contents of his backpack.
“I believe some celebrations are in order?” Max pulls out the bottle of wine with a flourish, the two cups following after. Max smiles, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth.
“Well, of course, after such an awesome game.” Grace sits on the edge of her bed, crossing her legs and patting the space next to her for Max to take, which he does without hesitation. Max sprawls out, long limbs going every which way.
The cork pops and Max pours them both a cup — not too full for Grace. It’s her first time actually drinking and Max wants it to be one she can remember. They sip and talk about anything and everything. The conversation flows like they hadn’t spent the better part of their lives separated.
They don’t drink enough to really be drunk, just enough to feel a little floaty. In the fuzzy light of Grace’s bedroom lamp, Max almost looks angelic, warm light making his bright eyes glow. When… When did those eyes get so close? Grace doesn’t quite remember. In the stretches of time between blinks, one of Max’s hands has found hers on the bedspread, warmth covering her entirely. His thumb traces small circles on the back of her hand, pulling Grace even deeper into him.
Grace is close, closer than she’s ever been, and Max’s breath hitches. His heart pounds in his chest, a drum line beating at the speed of light. The lamp light shines from just behind her eyes, framing her head like a halo.
Neither is sure who moves first. But Grace closes her eyes and so does Max. And the rest of the world falls away.
They meet, and red streaks across their lips just like it did so many years ago. This time, though, the bitter taste is welcome. It burns their throats as it goes down, soothing aches each forgot they ever had. No one is there to cast a shadow over them, no rude hands fumbling to pull them apart. Just them. Max Jägerman and Grace Chasity.
Max wants nothing more than to drown in the feeling of Grace’s lips on his. Little Max had no clue. Grace was more than just something important. Grace was everything important.
Max’s hand that isn’t holding Grace’s comes up to cup her cheek, combing just barely through her hair to get there. Her free hand finds its place resting on Max’s knee.
Unfortunately, air is not a thing to be ignored and the two must part. Max smiles, soft and bright, and every other light in the world dims in response. He squeezes Grace’s hand as he pulls back just slightly, breathless.
“Hi…”
“Hi.”
Grace feels like she could eat the whole world raw. This was what Peter meant when he said that love covers a multitude of sins.
Oh.
Oh.
Grace is in love. Grace Chasity is in love with Max Jägerman. And somehow, Grace knows he’s in love with her too.
There’s no time to hesitate, no time to question whether it’s right or wrong — a sin or a virtue. Grace lurches forward again, pressing another kiss to Max’s lips. The movement causes Max to tumble back onto the bed, taking Grace with him. Unlike that time in middle school, Grace lands on top of him, and Max thinks that he likes looking up at Grace even more than down. They separate, laughing this time, and hearing Grace laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world to Max.
Grace is looking at him with those wide eyes, and he’s looking at her too, and—
“I think I love you.” The words come out before Max can stop himself. He’s always been a man of action after all, thinking is for nerds.
Max has never been a person of faith, he’s always been a person to make his own meaning. But, when Grace’s wide eyes lighten and she speaks, he thinks maybe there really is a God above.
“I think I love you, too.”
“ Oh. Okay, cool. ”
Max was never good with words, but actions speak louder. He presses a kiss to Grace’s forehead, the space between her beautiful wide eyes, and tucks her into him. Grace settles in immediately, her head nestling perfectly into the space between Max’s shoulder and his head resting on hers.
The night is quickly becoming morning, and when the sun finally rises, they will both need to talk about everything. But now, with the moon bright in the sky, they need rest more.
Some day, they’ll go off to college outside of Hatchetfield. They’ll be able to hold hands without constantly checking over their shoulders. They’ll grow up. Become full people.
But the future can wait. Max is holding Grace in his arms, half asleep, and he knows this is all he’ll ever want for the rest of his life.