If there was one word to describe our friend Carrie, it would be Dramatic. Not Lizzy not me, just Carrie. And to make the matter worse, she was loud most of the time. But only with us. Sometimes her loudness was jarring, especially when it catches you by surprise.
"I asked what's your take on Pastor's son?" she asked again once seeing our confused stare.
"We heard you loud and clear, Carrie, if you haven't noticed," Lizzy quipped. She always hated how loud Carrie could be most of the time. "It is your question we do not understand." she continued.
"What's their not to understand?" unbothered, Carrie asked.
"Like why the sudden question?" I asked back.
Carrie hesitated, her fingers fidgeting in her lap, which was so unsarcastically with her. "I mean… what do you think of them? Like, how they act, how they carry themselves… how you're supposed to act around them?"
I squinted, finding her ridiculous. "Have you never met one before?"
Carrie scoffed. "I'm way too much of a sinner to be acquitted by one," she muttered, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.
Lizzy snorted. "And what makes you think you need to be holy to know one?"
"Because their fathers are messengers of God? They should lead by example since they are… Ugh, never mind! Just tell me—what are they really like?" Carrie huffed, clearly growing impatient.
"They're just like anyone else—" I started, but Lizzy cut me off with a loud snort.
"Like anyone else? Oh, please," she scoffed. "They're the epitome of snobbishness. Egotistical fools who think they walk on holy ground just because their dad has a microphone and a congregation."
I winced. "Damn, Lizzy. Is this personal?" I wondered out loud
She folded her arms, eyes flashing. "Personal? Oh, absolutely. I dealt with four of them in high school—four, from different churches, mind you. Each one more unbearable than the last. They strutted around like they were handpicked disciples from Jerusalem while the rest of us were just doomed sinners in Sodom."
Her rant was laced with such venomous wit that I couldn't help but burst into laughter. She wasn't wrong, also not right at the same time. Sure, some pastor's sons carried an air of superiority, but not all of them.
"Is it really that bad?" Carrie grimaced, still nibbling at her nails like she was bracing for impact.
"Not all of them," I reassured her, my curiosity piqued. She was clearly fishing for something. Narrowing my eyes, I leaned forward. "Okay, spill. What's with the sudden fascination? You're totally holding out on us, Carrie—out with it."
I extended my palm as if she could physically place her secrets there. Lizzy, now equally intrigued, abandoned her phone and leaned in, waiting for the grand revelation.
"The thing is…" Carrie exhaled like she was about to drop the biggest bombshell of the century. "Remember the guy who's been pursuing me?"
"You mean the one you've been chasing," I corrected, dodging the eye roll she sent my way.
"The predator, yes, go on," Lizzy prompted, her patience wearing thin.
Carrie hesitated for half a second before blurting, "Well… turns out he's a pastor's son."
Lizzy clapped her hands together, looking far too entertained. "Oh, this just keeps getting better."
"And?" I asked, arching a brow. "What's the issue? It's not like being a pastor's son makes him less of a man."
Lizzy smirked. "Oh, he's still a man, alright. But for Carrie, this changes things. It complicates them in ways you can't even imagine."
"Like how?" I tilted my head, a scowl marring my face.
"Think about it." she leaned in. " These guys grow up under a spotlight of virtue. It's all about image and expectations. And Carrie?" She gestured at our friend, who was looking increasingly uneasy. "She's not exactly the slow-burn courtship type. You want fireworks, excitement, adventures and not some painfully chaste romance where 'intimacy' means prolonged eye contact from across the room."
I frowned. "That's a bit of a stretch—"
"It's not," Lizzy insisted, her voice rising with conviction. "They're raised on these old-school, no-touching-until-marriage rules. No kissing. No anything. Just a whole lot of holy restraint."
Carrie groaned. "You're kidding, right?"
I shot Lizzy a look. "You're being dramatic."
Lizzy threw up her hands. "I lived it! I once dated a pastor's son, and after one stolen kiss—just one—I was shown the door faster than a sinner at the pearly gates." Carrie and I blinked at this revelation Lizzy had never told us about this..
"I'm not trying to be bias here, but I'm speaking from experience," Lizzy conitined.
"You have to tell us all about it. How come we never heard of this story" Carry scooted closer, our eyes excited to get some juicy story. Lizzy let out a loud sigh and pouted.
"He called me Delilah. As in the Delilah. A temptress sent to lead him astray."
Wait. Did she just say? I clapped a hand over my mouth, but the giggle was already bubbling up. Of all the things I expected to hear today, this was not one of them.
"Please, don't laugh," Lizzy groaned, half-hiding behind her hands as her cheeks turned pink.
"Oh, goodness," I managed, pressing my lips together to keep from cracking up. "tell us more. When did all this happen?"
"High school," she sighed, her voice dripping with nostalgia. "He was the serious, studious type, and I was—well, me. I thought we had that 'opposites attract' thing going for us." She paused, a wistful smile tugging at her lips.
"You can't imagine, Carrie, the restraint I had to practice," she went on. "To fit his mold, I toned down my wild streak, stopped dressing up, even distanced myself from my so-called 'bad influence' friends. Our dates consisted of scripture readings and faith-based films. Nothing about it screamed romance."
A giggle escaped from Carrie. telling she was enjoying this much.
"But I thought, 'when life gives you lemons, make lemonade,'" she said with a shrug. "So, I started writing him these little postcards—just verses from Song of Solomon—and leaving them in his locker. Romantic, biblical poetry. Real subtle, right?"
She laughed at herself and shook her head.
"I'd watch from afar and see him read them. He'd laugh sometimes. Not in a mean way, more like... confused but amused. And I thought, this is my chance. So, one day, I asked him to recite one of the verses out loud."
Her eyes went dreamy, a little glassy with memory.
"And he did. With this completely innocent sincerity, like he was reading scripture in church. And my heart just...went crazy. Did flips. Cried. Threw a parade. So, naturally... I kissed him."
Carrie let out a low whistle. I giggled, already loving this story more than I probably should've.
"And then what?" I asked, leaning in, my inner writer already spinning possible outcomes—some dramatic, some romantic, all completely over-the-top.
Lizzy's expression flattened. "Then our relationship went kaboom."
Carrie and I exchanged a look. Part disbelief, part pure curiosity, before both of us burst into laughter.
"Wait, seriously?" I choked out between giggles. "Who ends things over a single kiss?"
Lizzy crossed her arms with mock indignation. "Apparently, boys raised in very conservative homes do. You know like, 'pastor's sons'" she quoted, starring at Carrie whose, smiley face vanished immediately.
"That's not fair," I glared at Lizzy who ignored me and continued.
"Before you go into deep, consider it.
Carrie sighed, plopping herself flat on the carpet. "I wish I could, but…" she sang " he's so tall and handsome as hell."
Lizzy narrowed her eyes and mockingly crooned, "Well, I can see the end as it begins…"
I tittered. "Are you quoting Taylor Swift right now?"
Lizzy smirked. "Desperate times."
"But honestly," I mused, "maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing. You do have a habit of going for guys who keep things light and easy. Maybe it's time for a change—a challenge. There's something kind of exciting about having to work for it, don't you think?"
Lizzy gawked at me. "You can't be serious."
I grinned. "Oh, but I am."
"It's not fair to push Carrie away just because he's spiritual," I pointed out. "he's different—handsome, devout—the whole package. And it's not like she's out here husband-hunting. If it doesn't work out, at least she'll have a story to tell, right?"
I glanced at Carrie, who nodded with a growing smile.
"You're right. And hey, I've got to keep my diary interesting. If we don't end up together, at least I'll make sure I'm unforgettable," she declared, her confidence rekindled.
I smirked. "Like standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset?" I wiggled my brows at her.
"…Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you'll see me again, even if it's just in your..." Carrie jumped in, voice lilting with dreamy seriousness.
"Wildest dreams..." we both sang in unison, striking a final, theatrical note.
Even Lizzy—who had been teetering on the edge of an exasperated eye-roll—finally gave in. She shook her head with a defeated chuckle, the corner of her mouth twitching upward as our giggles filled the room.
...