Page 85 of Teach Me How
“Oh.” Reese’s enthusiasm is thin. “Sure. We’ll be over in a few minutes. I wanted to find a funnel cake first.”
Lisa wraps her fingers around Reese’s arm, hauling her behind her. “You can get something to eat after the set.”
Set? Who calls worship music a set? It’s not exactly rock-n-roll.
Except, as we near the stage, I realize this isn’t going to be a normal worship band session with a tambourine and an acoustic guitar. There are tall amps and a drum kit that looks like it went through a hail storm it’s got so many dings on it.
Lisa is practically bouncing on her toes. “The Harvest Festival got a special musical guest this year.”
“Oh, fuck me.” Reese mutters, just loud enough for me to hear. I slide a hand behind her back, feeling how tense she is. The crowd starts to grow around us, but despite Lisa’s urging to move closer, Reese stays rooted to the spot.
The band files out, the crowd starts cheering, and then I understand.
I never bothered looking her ex up. If I had, I might have known ahead of time that this dude is no wimpy guy in corduroys and a sweater vest. He’s tall, lanky, and fit. This is something I know because the asshole is shirtless.
In November.
What kind of guy leads worship music in ripped up jeans and motorcycle boots? Shirtless. His entire left side is covered in ink and my mind is just blown.
I’m having to rearrange everything I assumed about Reese and Jonah, and it’s like starting over at square one.
Ihatehow bad ass this douchebag is. I’ve never really given a shit what people think of me. My family’s opinion is important, yes, but I’ve never been hung up on coming across as cool. But standing here in work boots and a plain Henley, I’m suddenly feeling very vanilla.
No wonder she got bored of me.
As he picks up his guitar, my last, lingering hope is that he sucks. That he’s all appearance and no substance. Sound reverberates through the speakers, and he opens his mouth.
The song starts slowly, stripped down to his voice and a haunting electric guitar.
His voice is deep and expressive, but the motherfucker has range, hitting falsetto notes with grace and ease. His drummer starts lightly tapping out a rhythm and then we’re hit with a wall of sound. You can’t help but be moved by it and it’s a song called Choke Me.
How can he move a crowd of hicks with aworshipsong called Choke Me?
What the actual fuck?
But also, how did a guy who’s singing about being choked by a lover miss out on a beautiful woman like Reese?
That was a mistake, plain and simple.
One Jonah seems to have recognized.
Otherwise, what is a guy like that doing in Silver Bend?
He’s here to get his girl back.
And to ruin my fucking life.
57.
Reese
There was a time when those tattoos and that long, dark hair would have melted me down to a helpless puddle of goo.
Jonah didn’t start out as the tatted-up heartbreaker he is today, but even as a sophomore in college, he had something about him. There was this fire burning in him to shake things up. He was always going on about a Christ-like love, about the tolerance and acceptance that was missing from modern Christianity. It was a passion that sort of pulled people in. He’s a force to reckon with. Passionate. Unpredictable.
Fascinating.
I remember sitting with him while Chance gave him his first tattoo. Two overlapping triangles and John 1:16.