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đž Chapter 6 â The Song After the Storm
It was one of those late-Friday rehearsals that already felt cursed.
The mic kept cutting out, the keyboard was off-key (somehow), and the youth pastor kept clapping on the wrong beat. đ
Sarah had been trying to stay focused. But Eli was acting⊠different. Distant.
He hadn't joked once, not even a "Choir Girl" tease.
When practice ended, everyone scattered. Sarah stayed behind, because that's what she did when something felt off.
> Sarah: "You okay?"
Eli: "Yeah. Totally."
Sarah: "That's your 'totally not okay' voice."
Eli: "I justâ" he shrugged "âsaw you talking to Marcus earlier."
She blinked. "Marcus? The tenor who can't find a pitch to save his life?"
> Eli: "You were laughing."
> Sarah (half-laughing): "Because he made a joke about the pastor's socks! You're jealous of that?"
> Eli: "I'm not jealous. I justâŠ" he hesitated "forget it."
Sarah crossed her arms. "Eli, what's your deal? You've been weird all week."
> Eli: "You wouldn't get it."
> Sarah: "Try me."
> Eli: "You're justâ" he stopped himself, frustrated "âyou don't even know what you do to people."
> Sarah: "Excuse me?"
> Eli: "Everyone's always watching you. And you act like you don't notice!"
> Sarah (stung): "Wow. Sorry for existing, I guess."
The words came out sharper than she meant. The look on his face made her regret it instantly.
> Eli: "Forget I said anything." He grabbed his backpack. "See you Sunday."
> Sarah: "Eliâ"
But he was already gone.
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đ The Silence
For two whole days, they didn't talk.
No texts. No glances at church. Just that heavy, awkward silence that makes your stomach twist.
Samantha noticed first.
> Samantha: "You and Drum Boy fighting?"
Sarah: "We're fine."
Kim: "Mhm. That's 'fine' with a capital F."
Sarah: "Drop it."
But that night, she couldn't sleep. Every memory replayed in her head â every laugh, every walk home, that look in his eyes when he said, "You don't even know what you do to people."
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đ¶ Sunday Evening
Choir ended early. Sarah was walking out when she heard the faint strum of a guitar from the sanctuary.
She froze.
She knew that sound.
Eli.
He was sitting on the edge of the stage, guitar on his knee, eyes closed. The lights were dim, the sound soft and aching.
She didn't say anything â just watched.
He started to sing, quietly:
> "I said things I didn't mean, I let pride do the talkingâŠ
I watched the light fade from the place we were walking.
But you're the calm in my storm, the spark in my grace,
I'm just the boy who got lost in your faith." đ”
Sarah's breath caught.
He looked up, startled to see her â then smiled, shy for once.
> Eli: "I didn't think you'd still be here."
Sarah: "Couldn't sleep. Guess God wanted me to hear that."
Eli: "It's called 'Lost in Your Faith.'"
Sarah: "You wrote that⊠for me?"
He nodded. "I didn't know how to apologize. So I wrote instead."
> Sarah (softly): "You could've just texted."
> Eli (grinning): "Yeah, but then you'd just leave me on 'read.'" đ
She laughed, shaking her head â the kind of laugh that breaks tension and mends something at the same time.
> Sarah: "You're still jealous of Marcus?"
> Eli: "A little. Dude's got nice shoes."
> Sarah: "You're unbelievable."
> Eli: "But forgiven?"
> Sarah: "Maybe."
He strummed the guitar again, humming. "Want to sing it with me?"
> Sarah: "Here? Now?"
> Eli: "Yeah. Before I lose my nerve."
So she sat beside him. Their voices blended â hesitant at first, then sure, filling the empty church with something pure, something new.
When the last note faded, they just sat there, quiet and smiling.
> Sarah: "You know, for a jealous drummer, you're not half bad."
> Eli: "And for a bossy choir girl, you're kinda perfect." đ
They laughed softly â the storm between them finally gone, leaving only music.
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