The second level course was at 8:00 AM on Tuesday and Thursday. His apartment was on her way to class. Every other morning she would stop and knock on his door. They’d walk across campus together, talking. She was taking a marketing class that year. It wasn’t a topic very familiar to her. He had taken it before and done well. He offered to help her one afternoon when she told him about her troubling assignment. “I study in the library at 9:00 every morning on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Find me and I’ll help,” he offered. She had an hour break at 9 so she found him in the back by the windows, and he showed her how to do the assignment.
Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday he sat in the library, in the back, by the windows, and studied. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday after her first class, she would find him in the same place, and take the desk in front of him.
“I went to Faith on Sunday,” he said one morning as they walked from the library to class.
“Oh! I’m so jealous! I wish I could go to Faith,” she answered.
“Why can’t you?” he laughed in response.
“My friends, the ones who volunteer to drive, like to go to Covenant.”
“Huh. I’ll take you to Faith if you want.”
“Really? I’d like that. I love going there. It feels like home.”
He was always on time on Sunday mornings. Each week he would knock on her door and she would be ready. Her roommates were all scrambling around, getting ready, but most likely going to be a few minutes late to church. He was never late. Lots of their friends went to Faith. They would gather before the service and then all sit in the same bench together. And afterward he would drive the two of them back to campus and they would go their separate ways.
It was like this for weeks. Then months. She saw him everyday. They had the same group of friends. They were in one of the same classes. He helped her with her marketing homework. She helped him interpret his notes from their class. She taught him how to make a paper snowflake, and she laughed when he opened it up and it fell to pieces.
They got a couple of their friends together and took a bowling class. She was good. He was better. She beat him once. As she bowled her final frame, she turned around and looked at him with a purely blissful expression. She said, quietly at first, “I beat you.” He bent his body low over his chair, elbows on his knees and hung his head. “I won!!!” she screamed! She reminded him of her one and only victory everyday for a week after. Each time he would say, “You won ONE time! One time. I’ve won many times.” “Yes,” she said as she laughed, “but I still beat you!”
Often in the evenings they’d do devotions together. After reading a passage of scripture, B would pray.
“He said he won’t go to church with me when we are married,” she told him one night.
“Really? He said that?”
“Yeah. I don’t know what to do. I thought he would,” she said quietly.
“I think that would be a deal-breaker for me,” he told her.
She didn’t say anything back. She knew it should be for her too. But for her, it was more than just words. For her it would mean a broken heart. For her it would mean a promise not kept. For her it was more than just a simple decision. She had promised to marry someone. It would be so much easier to just go through with it. It would be so much less painful. Less embarrassing. At least for now.