Day 13: bald
Seth Fisher was quite a lot to look at. The Fisher farm had passed through generations, and he was the next in a long line of dark-haired Fishers with freckles who worked that farm and looked like he could fireman carry a calf. Kahrin very much hoped that meant he’d carry her around like that now and then.
No such luck.
To Kahrin’s surprise and dismay, Seth Fisher was a true gentleman. He made sure they, as Ma put it, left room for the Lord between them when they walked. When Kahrin asked if he was ever going to kiss her—oh how she enjoyed kissing—he said it wasn’t the right time yet.
The right time seemed to come somewhere between never-thirty and bored o’clock. “Oh.” She nodded her head slowly. “But… you like me, right?” Maybe this no kissing thing was his way of trying to tell her something.
“I mean, you’re real pretty.” There was a pause. She didn’t like that pause which was only a breath and seemed to stretch on until she rocked on her toes. “But…”
“There’s pretty girls, and then there’s the kind you marry.”
Wait, what? “Um, I’m fifteen.” She shook her head.
“I know.” She was not going to like this, she knew. “And I thought I could think about it with you.” Her face twisted in disgust before she could stop it. “I take it I’m wrong.”
“Uh, yeah.” Who thought about that at fifteen?
“You’re a little much, you know that?”
Her brows lifted into their own orbit as she forced herself not to show how that hurt to hear. “Said no girl to you ever.” She spit at his feet and stomped away, calling over her shoulder. “I’m not gonna get married, especially not to a full of himself jerk with a receding hairline like you.”
©b.r. hill-mann 2019