Finally My Forever (12 page)

"It's okay," I said. I looked at the class. "Does everybody know Thomas' baby brother?"

They murmured around the table, most of them nodding but some shaking their head.

"Well, this is Micah." I looked toward the door. "We were just about to do an experiment if you want to join us?"

Chapter 14

"I'd love to," Micah said without hesitation.

He entered the classroom and went straight for one of the extra chairs that lined the wall, only he didn't sit in it like I assumed he would. Instead, he picked it up and carried it to the table so he could sit with the students. He made Thomas scoot over and squeezed into the empty space between his brother and Benji.

Thomas was thrilled with the new addition to the class, and he put his arm around his brother, before turning to beam at everyone. I tried in vein to contain a smile as I passed Micah one of the handouts and a pencil.

One at a time, I poured the water, oil, and syrup into the glass container. Everyone reacted in amazement at the way they separated and formed visible layers.

Once the liquids settled completely, I dropped items into the container one by one. Before I added each one, I asked them what they thought would happen.

"Okay, so I have a rock," I said. I held the small stone up for their inspection before holding it above the glass container full of liquids. "What do you think the rock will do?" I asked.

No one answered right away, so I continued, "It might float on the top, or it might sink to the bottom. Do any of you have an idea?"

Several of the students yelled out what they thought the rock would do. I carefully dropped it, and we watched as it penetrated all three layers of liquid and sank to the very bottom.

Everyone cheered. "I heard some of you say you thought it would sink," I said. "If that was your guess, you were right. I want all of you to take a second to mark your handouts. You can just draw a rock on the bottom of the container you have on your paper. A rock's just a circle, so don't stress about getting it perfect."

I watched as Thomas marked his paper and then peeked onto Micah's paper to see how his brother was doing.

I then added an ice cube, a grape, and a cork to the container, pausing between each one so they could watch the results and mark their papers. The rock sank to the bottom of all the liquids, resting on the bottom of the glass container. The grape sank to the bottom of the oil and water but floated on the syrup. The ice cube sank to the bottom of the oil but floated on the water. And the cork floated on top of everything.

You could clearly see the layers of liquid and the items floating on each one, but I walked around with the container so everyone could see it more closely. I wasn't sure all of them quite grasped the concept of density, but they seemed to love the experiment, and couldn't get enough of looking into the container.

I asked if any of them had questions, and Benji raised his hand. "When are we gonna do the Coke spraying thing again?" he asked.

"You guys have already seen that," I said. "Do you really want to see it again?"

They started elbowing each other and murmuring excitedly. I got enough sounds of approval that I said, "Shhhh, okay I'll take a count and we'll see about doing that one again sometime. Show me by raising your hands. How many of you want to see the Coke and Mentos experiment again?"

Every single student's hand shot into the air faster than I could blink. Micah's hand was right there with them. I let out a little laugh. "Okay, it looks like we'll have to do that one again," I said. "Maybe I'll bring it next week."

Samantha raised her hand and I called on her. "I think Coke Zero will win," she said. They all started agreeing with her, so I cut in telling them I'd be bringing new challengers for Coke Zero next time.

I told them all goodbye and to have a great week, and they started packing up their things and heading for the door. I went to the adjoining bathroom where I fished the items out of the container and disposed of the liquids. By the time I turned to head for the classroom again, Micah was standing in the doorway, leaning casually on the frame.

I secretly hoped he'd be standing there, but I still acted surprised to see him. I smiled. "Did you finish your handout, Mr. Bennett?"

"That's Micah!" Thomas said, popping his head around the corner when he heard my formality.

I inched toward the door but stopped before I got too close. "Did you finish your paperwork, Micah?" I asked, smiling. He stared down at me with a totally unreadable but intent expression. His appraisal made me antsy. "Did you like it?" I asked, feeling the need to fill the empty space between us with words. He looked at me for several more seconds before the corner of his mouth turned up in a grin. It was an irresistible sight. He was dressed in fitted khakis and a button up shirt, looking every bit the male model. I was helpless to do anything but stare into his intense green eyes. "Did you enjoy the experiment?" I repeated.

"I've enjoyed every single experiment I've ever done with you." Thomas had been facing away from us, watching his friends leave, but he turned to chime in at Micah's words. "This is your first time to Carly's class," he said.

"Yeah, this is your first class," I said, looking at Micah with challenge as I walked past him.

"Let me take you to dinner," Micah whispered, reaching out to barely touch my arm as I passed.

I glanced at him with a curious expression.

"Carly can come to dinner at our house," Thomas said. Micah thought Thomas hadn't heard his whisper, but obviously he was wrong.

"I can't tonight," I said talking to mostly Thomas since I wasn't sure if Micah meant tonight or not. "I should really get back home to see Roscoe. I'm not sure if any of my roommates are home to let him out of his kennel."

"Why don't you call them?" Micah asked.

"Why didn't you bring Roscoe?" Thomas said.

I was overwhelmed. It was a dream come true for Micah to ask me to hang out with him, but I didn't want to seem to eager.

"He stayed home this time since I had my hands full with all my supplies," I said, looking at Thomas. I shifted my attention to Micah. "Were you referring to tonight?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "I was thinking we'd leave from here."

"Are you coming to my house?" Thomas asked.

"Probably not this time, brother," Micah said, tenderly reaching out to mess with Thomas' hair. "I was hoping you'd let me take Carly out this one time since you get to see her more than I do."

Thomas looked a bit annoyed, but went back to packing up his things.

I got all of my supplies together and the three of us went into the living room to meet Claire. Gina was nowhere in sight, a fact for which I was grateful. One family was lagging behind everyone else, so they ended up walking out with us when Claire locked up.

"Did I tell you Gina's volunteering with us," she informed Micah as we made our way outside.

"Gina Young?" he asked, looking surprised.

"Yeah, she came in earlier to ask what she could do to help. She left just before you got here."

Claire obviously had no idea what sort of crush Gina or I had on her son or she would have never said something like that in front of me.

"What'll she be doing?" he asked.

Claire shrugged. "She's coming in for a couple hours a week—probably on Monday or Wednesday. I told her we always needed help with cleaning, and she said she'll just do whatever's needed."

"That's cool," Micah said.

Don’t you dare begrudge them the help they need just because a girl rubs you the wrong way. That is so selfish. Volunteers are good. Smile. Just smile.

Micah was helping me out with my supplies or I would have probably turned tail and run home during that conversation.

"What are you doing for dinner?" Claire asked, thankfully changing the subject.

"I'll probably stop at that little Greek place," he said. "I'm trying to get Carly to let me buy her a sandwich."

"Oh!" she said. There was a lot implied by that one word. It was laced with such surprise that it was obvious that she never considered Micah wanting to take me somewhere. Or maybe that's just how I took it and it wasn't what she meant at all. I was probably just annoyed that she brought up Gina.

Micah and I told Claire and Thomas goodbye, and he walked me to my car. "So what do you think?" he asked, standing there while I stashed the supplies into the backseat of my two-door sedan. "Will you let me buy you dinner? I promise I won't make you do any scientific research with me."

His reference to scientific research was obviously code for kissing, and my gut clenched at his mention of it even though he was saying he
didn’t
want it to happen. I went from sick with anticipation to sick with disappointment within a matter of seconds.
Just keep smiling
.

I sighed as I straightened to stand next to him. "I guess," I said. "As long as you promise not to make me work. I'm officially off the clock."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Just a bite to eat," he said. "You want to ride with me? It's not that far, and I can bring you back here to get your car afterward."

Micah had a nice truck. I rode in the passenger's seat, imagining that was my regular spot. I pictured us as a couple and thought about what it would be like to ride with him places all the time.

We talked about his job the whole way to the restaurant. He was in construction like his dad, but he'd gone out on his own and started a business specializing in concrete. His expertise was with staining and finishes, and his business did mostly commercial jobs. He was really humble about the whole thing, but I could tell by the way he explained it that his company had really started to take off despite the fact that it was so new.

The restaurant was a tiny, casual place where you order at the register and they call you up to get your food once it's ready. Micah ordered a Gyro and I ordered a Greek salad, and we sat across from each other, looking down at the delicious food. I noticed that he closed his eyes for a second before he dug in. He didn't make a show of it, but I assumed he was praying.

"I meant to tell you, I really loved your Halloween song the other night," I said.

He had taken a bite, and he laughed as he chewed. Even his chewing was handsome. Muscles in his jaw and temple worked, and I had to stare at his shirt to keep from gawking at him.

"I'm serious," I said. "I can't believe what a good musician you are. Thomas was telling me you're playing with a Christian band now."

"I am."

"How'd that come about?" I asked.

"Are you asking how I met the guys or how I came about wanting to play Christian music?"

"Both, I guess."

"I met the guys at church, but I don't play with the same guys all the time. The band changes depending on who's available when I'm playing. I'm recording an album soon, though, and I have a core group for that. There's five others besides me."

"Do you mostly do songs you wrote?"

"Yeah. I love writing. I was writing all the stuff for Sweet East too."

"So what made you change to Christian music?" I asked.

He smiled as if he knew that question was coming. "It's funny how God can use the most unlikely thing to hit you," he said. "I grew up in the church, and if you would have asked me, I would have told you that Jesus Christ was my savior, but for a long time, it really didn't show it the way I was living. I was just doing life in college, and Jesus was pretty much on the back burner. Anyway, I had made a couple of albums with Sweet East, and they did pretty well on iTunes. We were doing gigs every weekend and drawing some good crowds, but it just felt like it wasn't enough. We had some success, but I just kept wanting more, more, more—feeling like nothing was enough."

He paused as if to gauge whether not I was still interested and I smiled and nodded.

"So one weekend when we weren't playing, I came home. Thomas and I were both sitting in the living room and mom asked me to read to him. She's always buying different kinds curriculum for him so he can learn new things, and she asked me to read out of a music appreciation book thinking it would appeal to both of us. The story happened to be about Johan Sebastian Bach. Do you know who he is?"

I nodded. "Of course."

"Did you know he was a Christian?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Me neither," he said. "I had no idea until I read to Thomas that day. Apparently, he was a really devout Christian. He worshiped God through his music. His only goal in life was to please God and help others with his talent. It said he never even tried to become famous or make his works well known—that he didn't even try to preserve the things he wrote, he just wrote to please and worship God, and that was it."

"Wow," I sighed. "That's crazy."

"I know, right? He would write initials at the end of his compositions. They were S.D.G., and they stood for the Latin phrase Soli Deo Gloria, meaning to the glory of God alone."

Micah took the final bite of his gyro and we sat in silence for a minute. I found myself trying to remember some of Bach's famous work and imagined him with a quill or whatever he wrote with, composing it for God alone.

Micah used a napkin to wipe his mouth before crumpling it up and dropping it in the empty basket in front of him.

"Something clicked in me that day," he said shaking his head. "I'd been spending so much time and energy trying to make people notice and appreciate me as an artist… constantly wondering what other people thought of my music. Something about the idea of using my art to glorify God alone seemed right. I was liberated and humbled all at the same time. I mean, if someone like Bach was willing to use his talents for God alone, how much more willing should I be?" He paused and shrugged. "I know there's a stigma to Christian music or whatever, and honestly I don't care. I didn't find true happiness in using my talent until I wasn't trying to impress anyone but God with it."