Chapter 2

Being less than athletic, I had put off my only required PE credits until this semester. Don’t exactly know why I decided I wanted to get them out of the way by taking tennis lessons, though.

“Hey Shelly,” I greeted her as I stepped out of the men’s locker room into the spacious indoor courts where I was to meet my student instructor – a guy by the name of Elijah Cohen. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just on my way to class and thought I’d stop by to tell you that Lisa and I are going over to the library tonight to study, so I won’t be able to meet you for coffee.”

I noticed Shelly turn her head to see what had distracted me, and returned my attention to her.

“That’s okay,” I said, but unable to keep from taking another peek at the guy with a tennis racket and clipboard in his hand, making his way toward us. “I’ve got a lot of reading I need to get started on anyway.”

She took another look at him too, then gave me a peck on the cheek and happily strode off.

“You Phillip Johnson?” the guy asked, looking at the paper he had in his hand. He seemed a bit embarrassed about something – or maybe he was just shy.

“Ye…” I started to answer, then cleared the phlegm from my throat, and tried again. “Yeah, you’re Elijah Cohen?”

“The one and only”

I could see he was smiling as he briefly glanced up at me, which made me blush. God, I cried out under my breath. Keep my thoughts out of the gutter. It’s not that most would’ve considered him to be eye candy, but something about him was sure lighting my jets. He was about my height, five-nine, and probably only weighed a hundred and thirty or so. His dark skin and the oversized beak on his face, with a sharp hook in the middle of it, seemed to betray his Middle Eastern heritage. But I think it was the ear to ear smile and his easy gait which caught my attention first. …and all those dark curls cascading from the top of his head.

 “…whatsoever things are PURE … whatsoever things are of good report; IF THERE BE ANY VIRTUE …Think on these things,” I began reciting in my head. The words were parts of a scripture verse from the fourth chapter of Philippians I had memorized a few years ago to help me when I found myself thinking impure thoughts. …and right now, I have to admit my thoughts are anything but pure. I had become fairly good at diverting my mind when Satan bombarded me with lustful thoughts at the worst possible times. Why God never seemed to intervene and keep those kinds of thoughts from appealing to me in the first place was still a mystery to me. I mean, God had to change that – after all, the bible clearly states that the thing I was thinking about was an abomination to him. …and since I had in essence promised to be his disciple, why wouldn’t he want to protect me from something he found so disgusting?

I once more renewed my determination not to let my guard down. I want God to love me as much as I love him, and so I just have suck it in and do things His way until The Tempter gets tired of trying to lure me away from God, and moves on to someone more susceptible to his scheming.

“You okay?” Elijah asked.

“Sorry. Something my girlfriend just told me,” I said pointing to Shelly disappearing through the main doors.

“You’ve got to hold your wrist straight,” he called across the net. “Like this,” he said, taking an easy swing at the ball, sending it toward me.

I tried to do what he told me, but I guess it wasn’t quite right because the next thing I knew, he was jogging around to my side of the court.

“Here, let me show you.”

I was so not prepared for the feelings his body, cradling against mine as he wrapped his arms around me to grip my wrists with his hands, was giving to me. That’s when it happened again – my knees going weak and all. He only did it to take me through a few swings. …and I tried hard to concentrate on what he was showing me, but I could hardly breathe. The wiry hair on his moist arms, and the musky scent invading my nose sent shivers involuntarily up my spine.

He giggled when he felt my body quiver.

“I hope you’re not a fast learner.”

Oh, God, please tell me he didn’t just say that. It’s not what you think, I told myself. Then a wave of true panic that caused my face to blush fiercely hit with his next words.

“…‘cause I could really get to liking this,” he casually whispered into my ear, as we made an arc through the air, striking an imaginary ball.

I knew in that instant I was in for a battle of epic proportions. …and NOT because I’m homophobic, either. God, why are you letting this happen to me? I whined silently. There was no mistaking in my mind what his words had meant.

Embarrassed – totally – I wrenched my way out of his grip and began swinging the racket; holding my wrist as stiff as humanly possible to show him I understood his instructions without the physical contact.

“Like this?” I asked, not looking at him because I knew my face was still glowing crimson red. “Please, God,” I whispered under my breath. “Guard my mind from thinking evil thoughts.”

 “Yeah, that’ll work once you build up your arm strength, but for now, you may want to use two hands like I just showed you.” I looked up and saw him take another swing, showing me again with his own racket. His entire face was smiling. His eyes shyly darted away from mine when he saw me look.

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Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Dear journal,

Thoughts about today: Today was my first tennis lesson with my student instructor, Elijah Cohen. I sure hope I’m wrong, but I think he has the hots for me. It was freaky the way every time I looked at him his eyes darted away from looking at me, like he was embarrassed that I caught him staring. I am so not going to go there. I hated what happened when he put his arms around me to show me how to grip the racket. I guess it was just his style of teaching, but when he told me he could get to liking that, it felt so freaking gay.

Honesty time: Lord, make me feel like that when Shelly puts her arms around me. I know true love is a commitment and not just a feeling, but please Lord, if it’s not too much to ask, let me know it by giving me those kinds of feelings when we hug each other.

What I learned: Maybe the key to it is what I read in those stories this summer. I need to get over my hang-ups and kiss Shelly on the lips. Lord, keep us from sinning by not letting us get carried away and doing the rest of what was in those books.

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Friday, September 12

Dear journal,

Thoughts about today: I did it! I kissed Shelly ON THE LIPS! They make it look so easy in the movies. I’m glad I got up the nerve to do it too, because she definitely looked happy afterwards even though it was kind of awkward at first.

Honesty time: There weren’t any fireworks, but that’s okay, because I was really worried about Shelly thinking I was after more than just a kiss. I felt so happy just knowing I did it. I think maybe she saw them though (fireworks). I’m not sure why I thought about Elijah for an instant while I was kissing Shelly. God, please don’t let Satan ruin things by distracting me with his perversion when I’m with her.

What I learned: Shelly’s lips are really soft and squishy. I have to remember to kiss her more gently next time.

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“Hi Shelly. You ready to go?” I asked over my cell phone as I stood in front of her apartment and waited Saturday afternoon.

“Be down in a minute,” she told me and then hung up.

When my roommate, Andrew, asked me if I wanted to party with him and his friends that night, I told him I had a date.

“You gonna bring her back here, or are you planning on spending the night in her room?” “Just checkin’,” he added, a sly, knowing, grin plastered across his face. “Just want to know whether I should find somewhere else to crash after the party tonight, that’s all.”

“Why would you think we were planning to spend the night with each other?”

“You said it was a date.”

“…and your point is?” I asked with an edge in my voice.

“Chill, buddy boy. Just playin’ with ya. I’ve dated women who didn’t put out the first date or two, so I know how you must be feelin’.”

“We don’t believe in doing that before marriage. We’re Christians.”

“So are my ‘rents …but that didn’t seem to keep mom from gettin’ preggers with me before their wedding.”

“Have fun at your party,” I told him. “…and try not to ralph on my bed when you come in.”

“Have fun on your date Romeo,” he said as he reached into his pocket and then tossed a small, flat, square of red plastic to me. “Don’t forget to wear your raincoat if you run into unexpected dew.” Then he turned and was out the door.

I was steaming at his inference about what he thought Shelly and I should be doing at the end of our dates. I did, however, tuck the safety device into my wallet. Maybe this was God’s way of preparing me for the intense feelings I had prayed he would someday bless me with.

“You got the tickets?” I asked Shelly as she bounded down the steps of her dorm hall. We were going to watch the Nittany Lions play Ohio State tonight. Not real romantic, but Shelly’s into sports.

“Right here,” she said patting her hip pocket. “Where’re we going for dinner?” Then she stepped in front of me and surprised me with a peck on the lips.

“Romano’s okay?”

“Are you kidding? You know how much I love pizza. Ham and pineapple for me, and tell them not to let your pepperoni slime run onto my half this time. How can you stand to eat all that grease with your pizza? Yuck! I’m kind of nervous about the match tonight. You think we have a chance at beating the Buckeyes?”

“I don’t know, but at least we’ll be there together,” I told her, reaching for her hand, and thinking I was making perfect sense.”

“So, exactly how does being there together help us win?”

“I meant it’s just a game. So as long as I get to be with you, I’ll enjoy it.”

“It’s a match. Do you even know what a lacrosse stick looks like? I mean how lame are you? This is the biggest match of the year for us and you’d be okay if we got creamed, as long as we get to sit together?”

“Something like that. You really think we have a chance?”

“Us, or Penn State?” she asked, almost cynically.

“Us”

She smiled, and I felt her grip tighten a bit.

Shelly and I carried on a lively conversation about classes, friends, and family, as we walked to Romano’s. I opened the door and stood to the side thinking she would be impressed with my chivalry. She just pulled me along with her and looked at me like I was being nerdy.

We ordered our pizza, half ham and pineapple, half pepperoni, and sat down at a table to wait. The thought of eating fruit on pizza was unpalatable to me.

“Hey, Phillip,” a voice called from behind me.

I turned and was greeted by Elijah Cohen’s broad smile and outstretched hand. It happened again; I felt my breath evaporate the moment I saw him. God, what is going on here? I pleaded silently, not knowing why I suddenly felt so lost for words.

“H… hey,” I managed to get out before stupidly asking him “You eat pizza?”

He looked at me like he was trying to figure out what planet I was from before smiling at me. Even his eyes sparkled when he smiled. “As long as it doesn’t have pork on it,” he answered as he turned away to join the guys he had come in with.

I spun back around in my seat to face Shelly and stupidly asked, “You think it’s hot in here?”

I saw her glance in the direction that Elijah had gone. “Not really” she said as she looked back to me. “Another potential boyfriend?” She was smiling, and took my hand.

“Just my tennis instructor. I don’t need any boyfriends hanging around when I’ve got a girlfriend like you. I like you a lot, Shelly.”

It was her turn to blush.

Penn State lost the game 3-2 on a controversial goal, and I sullenly walked Shelly back to her apartment. We stood, looking at each other for a moment before Shelly wrinkled her brow and asked “What?”

Even though I often found Andrew’s sharing of too many details about his dates disgusting, there was one thing I saw him doing a couple of times that kind of caught my interest. The first time it happened was when he showed up in the room unannounced, pleading with his eyes for me to move to the student lounge for the night. While I was grabbing my pillow and some books, I heard this “m-m-m-m” sound, and looked to see what they were doing. I swear it looked like he was trying to push his entire tongue into her mouth. …and she looked like she was really into it. After that, I noted him doing it with a couple of other girls too, so I’m guessing they must like it.

My heart began racing as I debated the benefits of doing it against any possible consequences. My desire to hear Shelly “m-m-m-m” softly because of something I was doing eventually won out over my fear that it could lead to needing what I had shoved into my wallet earlier in the evening.

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Saturday, September 20

Dear journal,

Thoughts about today: OMG! Michelle had the same reaction Andrew’s girlfriends do when he sticks his tongue in their mouth. I almost laughed when she did it. It made me feel so good inside knowing I was doing something for her that she liked. I went for seconds after I saw her smile. Thank you, Jesus, for keeping us from getting too carried away.

Honesty time: Sticking my tongue in her mouth was weird. I had no idea what to do with it once she let it in. I guess I did okay, because she did make that “m-m-m-m” sound, but I should not have thought what I did when she started to suck on it.

What I learned: I’ve got to start carrying breath mints in my pocket in case she sprinkles garlic on her pizza again. I can still taste it.

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