Saving Ash(book #2) Chapter-five

Ash...14 years old

I’m in class, lost with all thoughts of Pippa. I hear nothing Sister Margret is saying. She walks by, wearing her nun uniform, and I think how plain and boring. But I guess that’s the point. It’s confusing, really. All the beautiful creatures God made, and they choose to live in a world with no color. Plain, simple, and boring.

Not like my Pippa.

When she walks in the room, the world stops. And it’s not only me who feels it. The way everyone looks at her, even the women. She’s the only thing in the room. Even time stops, so everyone can gaze at her longer.  And when she’s outside, birds want to be near her. Butterflies dance all around her hair.

Yesterday, after piano lessons, she wanted to take a walk around the gardens. She took my hand, and led me to her favorite place—a concrete bench I didn’t even know existed. Time had covered it in Ivy.

As she led me by the hand, I watched two butterflies comfort themselves in her hair. She didn’t know they were there, which made it more special. Like she is part of nature. Something special for us to enjoy.

“Have a seat next to me, Ash. This is my favorite place to be when I’m here. Do you have a favorite place?”

I wanted to tell her anywhere with her. But my shy awkward self pushed it away. “I guess just being outside.”

She wrapped her arm around mine and pulled me close. “Just outside? Or someplace particular.” Her eyes were gazing into mine.

“I seem to like it best…when you’re here with me.” I said. There was no taking it back. I watched the flutter of her lashes, so much like a butterfly. She liked my answer. She wasn’t mad.

“Awe, Ash. You’re so sweet. And so very special.” I felt her hand move down my thigh. She never did this any place else. It was only in the piano room.

“Thank you, Miss Jennings,” I said like a stupid school boy.

“Now, I told you to call me Pippa,” she said with a beautiful smile. I loved her lips and hoped to kiss them someday.

“Yes. Pippa.”

Just then more butterflies came dancing by and fluttered all around her. She laughed. It was the most beautiful laugh I had ever heard.

“Well, would you look at that. These butterflies must like the smell of my hair.”

But it was more than that. Yes, her hair smelled wonderful. But it was her—her aura. Everything wanted to be near her. Sometimes it bothered me that I would have to compete with the world just to have her with me. But the butterflies, I would share.

“I think your hair smells wonderful, too, Pippa.”

That’s when she stopped watching the butterflies and gave me the sweetest look. I felt my palms becoming sweaty and my heart banged against my breast bone. I wanted to reach out and touch her face.

“Ash, do you have a girlfriend?” Her words were soft and caring.

“No, ma’am, I don’t.” I had no idea why I called her that. Somehow, Pippa seemed to transport me back to an earlier time when men addressed women in the proper way. I wanted her to see me as a man. And not just a young student of hers.

“Ma’am,” she giggled. It was youthful.

“Sorry. Pippa.” I smiled, and looked down at my shoes.

She laid a finger to my chin and brought my face to hers. “Oh, Ash. You can’t help it, can you?”

I was confused by what she meant. So, I went with the ma’am incident. “I guess it’s my upbringing. My last nanny taught me it was proper to address a lady with ma’am. But if it makes you feel old…”

I wanted to kick myself right there. Pippa wasn’t old, and in no way was I insinuating that. She was exactly want I wanted. Experienced.

“Ash, you could never offend me. I knew what you meant.” She stared at me for a while. Her hand moving closer to my groin. “Do you like older women, Ash?” she asked in her soft voice.

“I like you,” I said in all seriousness.  She smiled.

“I know you do, Ash.”

It was quiet for the next several minutes. The butterflies were dancing all around us, and I felt they were bonding us as one, that I had been chosen by nature for her. I wished for the ivy to weave us together, locking us in this moment for eternity.

Pippa would never know how much she ruled my days.

***

Saving Ash© 2024 Gina A. Jones rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.