3

Jem dried her hands against the rag on the stove handle. She'd finally finished a large portion of  the pots that needed cleaning and the cookout had started just about an hour ago.

She didn't care to be on time for these types of events because the families that showed up early were always the kind that left early— the ones with loud little kids and strict bedtimes. Not a crowd she was interested in socializing with. She also knew her family wouldn't arrive for at least half an hour after the start— partially for the same reason but also because dad took his sweet time finishing projects since he couldn't do any of that during workdays.

The air in the kitchen smelled metallic and her fingernails had gone soft and snub from scrubbing, one finger gaining a sore. She'd have to bandage it up once her hands weren't so moist.

She'd turned the lights off and went outside, spitting her gum out into a can. It was getting a little hazier out and the sun was still warming her shoulders when she stepped out of the shade. The grass was slightly damp with dew but she could only feel it from the tips of the grass blades on the tops of her feet.

She looked over the crowd, hearing chatter growing in some spots more than others. She spotted Ben. He waved at her and she waved back with a small smile. He really was a darling boy but so was her little brother so there wasn't much else to say to that, romantically speaking.

The next person she saw was her mother who was speaking to Mrs. Turner— Ben and Owen's mom.

"Hi sweety," her mom greeted, squeezing her arm affectionately.

"Hi," Jem smiled.

Mrs. Turner glanced her over, "Jem, hi!"

"Hi, Mrs. Turner."

"I heard you were getting busy in the kitchen. We appreciate all your help, you are such a hard worker."

A flush grew on Jem's cheeks, "Thank you. Its really my pleasure."

She hadn't noticed Owen approaching but caught him quirk a brow when she gave such a formal response to his mother. She wanted to roll her eyes but couldn't in front of so many adults.

Mrs. Turner caught sight of Owen then and her smile widened, "Oh, I shouldn't tell you too much but we've got a big announcement coming for this guy right here." She gestured to Owen who was now engaged in conversation with them.

Jem tried to catch his eyes, to get any hint of what she was referring to but he wouldn't even look her way.

She tried to smile, act more enthusiastic over Mrs. Turners excitement but it had no effect.

"Really? When will it be announced?"

"Tonight." It was Owen who answered her but it was so passive she barely thought he was referring to her. His eyes never crossed her face as he spoke, like he was speaking over her shoulder to someone else.

"...okay..." she said, uncertainly.

"Speaking of which," Mrs. Turner said, clasping her hands together, "this seems to be everyone so you should announce it before any of the younger families start leaving, Owen."

He cleared his throat, "yeah... yeah, sure."

Glasses were clinked and voices hushed as he spoke.

"I'll just say it outright so you don't have to suffer the suspense," he said dryly, gaining a few short laughs that seemed to have no affect on his mood, "I'm going on a mission to Puerto Rico in a week. I promise you won't miss me and if you do—no you won't—it's only two weeks long."

And with that, he went back to the semi-circle that included his mother, Jem's, and herself.

Jem stayed silent. It wasn't that big of a deal but why hadn't he said anything to her? Why should he? Because they were friends. Or maybe they weren't. What were they if not friends? A youth pastor and the youth. Clearly.

Jem tried to catch his eye again but again he didn't even look in her direction. He wasn't being mean, maybe she was just being sensitive and overly sentimental.

Finally she caught his eye and smiled lightly but he seemed to be purposely ignoring it right in front of her eyes.

The rest of the night was full and everyone was laughing but Jem couldn't stop her mind from reeling. It really wasn't a big deal.

Owen was standing across the lawn from her again. Her eyes stuck to the spot he stood again.

She willed him to look over but he wouldn't budge.

After a while, she chose to give up but it would just keep coming back. Not intentionally, but her eyes kept crawling back to him, she didn't even know why. Ben was probably doing the same to her but it wasn't wanted. Maybe Owen sensed it. Maybe he felt the same way she felt about Ben. That sent a deep sense of dread into her chest, embarrassment for having any form of thought about him. Did she make him uncomfortable in the same way Ben did her?

She forced the thought away and went inside to keep herself from falling into the habit of staring again.

She turned the light on in the kitchen and looked around for a small task to keep herself busy. She decided to hand dry the dishes she'd washed earlier. She popped in a stick of gum and got to work.

It was only a couple minutes before she heard the door creaking open.

In walked Owen. Again.

"Owen, hi." She put on her sweetest smile, trying to mask the fluster in her chest. Why was it so much stronger now? Desperation or maybe the fear of the coming deprivation?

He nodded curtly, "just need to get some cups. Ran out of paper ones."

"So..." she started, "Puerto Rico?"

He nodded again, "yup."

"A week from now?"

"Yeah." He made short eye contact with her, grabbing two stacks of cups.

"You'll miss my— the dance troupe recital." It sounded so pathetic. Why would she say that? He doesn't care about that stuff, why would she bring it up?

"Oh, I hadn't thought of it. I s'pose I will." His mouth twisted and he headed for the door.

"Ye' need a hand with the door—?"

"No, Jem." He put both stacks in one arm and opened the door with the other.

He hesitated in the doorway then turned to look at her with some struggle, "it was good of you to offer though." But it came out more resigned than thankful.

He started to leave again but paused one last time, "could you please put a bandage on that finger?"

That was the last time Jem saw him before he left.

And he was wrong, two weeks is a long time and he would be missed.