Free The Air We Breathe by Christa Parrish Page A

wasn’t one to pout. She didn’t often sit and think about things she didn’t have, never saw the point of it. God gave what He wanted, and He wanted her in a run-down wax museum, alone. There was a reason. She didn’t understand it, but she trusted it. Had to.
    Tobias jogged back across the street, opened the door.
    Hahahahahahahaha.
    “Hey, Moll?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Got a minute?’
    “I guess.” She closed her notebook inside the history text, keeping her place.
    “About the other day . . .”
    “Sorry I flipped out on you.”
    “No, don’t. It’s nothing about that. I mean . . . Molly . . . don’t you even get it?”
    “What?”
    “I like you.”
    Everything inside her stilled. “I like you, too.”
    “No, Molly. I. Like. You. Like, like you. Like . . .” He took a breath. “Like, really like you.”
    She’d been wanting to hear those words, imagining him saying something like that for the past six months—since the mozzarella sticks and the one-year Bible schedule. But with the real words in front of her, it sounded ridiculous. She shook her head, snorted. “No you don’t.”
    “Yes I do.”
    “No.”
    “Yes.”
    She laughed again. “No.”
    “Molly, stop telling me what I feel. You’re great. Pretty, of course. Smart, funny, kind. Always have something interesting to tell me about bugs. The real kind, not the lobster kind. Always think what I say is important. You see me. You . . . Molly, why do you think I come here every day with my meager offerings of seltzer water and leftover garlic knots? I’ve wanted you to notice me.” He rubbed at the hair beneath his lip with his middle finger. “Will you notice me now?”
    Molly shifted on the stool. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, a flushed feeling coming over her. The compliments. She couldn’t handle them. They made her feel as if some huge, hot spotlight had settled right over her head, close enough to burn her scalp, lighting up every pore and imperfection Tobias hadn’t seen before, but would see—if he spent any amount of time with her. She couldn’t let him close. If she did, he’d know she was none of the things he said about her—not smart nor funny nor kind nor interesting, nor worth three cents on the dollar. She was empty.
    “Tobias, stop.”
    “No. I had to put it out there. It’s been driving me crazy not knowing if you were ignoring me or if you really didn’t see. But you don’t see, do you? You don’t see how wonderful you really are.”
    “I’m not.”
    “Let me be the judge.”
    “No.”
    “Why, Molly? What’s inside there that you don’t want anyone to know?”
    “Nothing.” She shifted on the stool. “What about Kristina?”
    “She’s a family friend. We go to OSCC together. I mean, we ran around in our diapers together. She wanted to check out the museum for a paper she’s writing.” He stopped. “You were jealous.”
    “Tobias—”
    “I admit it. I was hoping for that.”
    Molly ran her pencil along the metal notebook spiral. Zip, zip. “I can’t be what you want.”
    “How do you know what I want?”
    “Whatever it is, I can’t be it.”
    “I don’t want you to be anything. I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you better. I want to take you to the movies, to dinner, to church. I want to walk on the beach with you. I want to talk. That’s all. I want a chance.”
    “I can’t.”
    He sighed. “Louise?”
    She nodded. How much easier that was than the truth, letting people believe their own truth. It required no floundering for a convincing story.
    “Then I’ll take what I can get.” He bowed low, holdingout his open hand. “M’lady, may I escort you through the museum?”
    “You just went through.”
    “Not with you.”
    “Someone might—”
    “No one’s coming in today.” He twisted the dead bolt and flipped the Open sign to Closed. “I’ll pay again.”
    “Tobias.”
    “I’m not leaving until you say yes. Or Louise kicks my