June usually passes me by in a blur, but this June, I feel time slow down, being almost like a whole new timeline altogether. Namely because of Terry and his dance classes, but I also feel myself thrive in my Bible class and through church leadership.

After ball changes and pivot turns, Terry teaches me pas de bourrées and chassés. Although I never signed up for ballet, it certainly feels like I'm trying to relearn balance altogether.

Okay, maybe I need to be more honest. Terry and his dance classes are what I look forward to most. Every time he texts me that he's going to the studio and I'm invited, it's like the whole sky opens up and a cherub in the sky begins to sing. I rack up some debt from buying clothes for dance practice, but I do it with the dream of one day performing to a gospel song—something powerful and meaningful.

"Now that you've got the basics down," Terry says in late June, with the sunlight skimming his gorgeous face. "We're going to progress to something more serious."

I gulp, the saliva stuck in my throat. I cough once, then two more times. Seriously, Martin?

Despite my prayer for my feelings to fade away, they grow stronger. When I think about what I should do to subdue them completely, I think about quitting dance class and cutting myself off from Terry altogether.

But that would be like cutting off one of my own fingers at this point.

I perform a minute-long routine in the same class. My flowy sweatpants and shirt hug and spin off my body at the same time, but I transfer my weight, and I barely lose balance. In fact, I really feel the lyrics of my chosen song. I twist and follow the steps I've been working on so hard. It becomes part of my body, part of my language.

Terry jumps up and down when I finish and a bead of sweat falls off my cheek. "Martin! Wow. I didn't know you had it in you. I mean, I did. That's why I offered to teach you. Maybe you'll be ready for the stage soon?"

I smile back, feeling the full beam of the sun in his praise. By the way, I did learn his shoe size—9. That's a half size bigger than mine. I can't help but think about the little, random things I learned about Terry. I don't have a feet thing by the way. It just came up when Terry uses his feet in every single second of his dance, as if balancing on a toprope.

"You're ready for more advanced techniques," Terry says, waltzing up to me to adjust my shirt.

In his touch, I find about a million prayers I could offer up right now—most about guarding my heart, the other prayers about always remembering this moment, perhaps preserving it as something special.

I text Liss after the dance practice. Coming to church tomorrow?

I expect her answer, but my heart still sinks when she replies, I don't think so. I'll see you at the cafe on Monday though!

Liss has distanced herself from the church in June—the only bad thing about this month. I've been trying to get her to talk to someone in the church who could answer her questions. I've also tried to answer her questions, but it's like a wall has been erected between Liss and the formal church.

My hope is that she'll always remember her faith, but I can't force her to come with me, even though her presence was always a steady anchor for me in Church Together. In the end, it's something she needs to decide in her spirit.

I wake up aroused after a dream about Terry and his lithe movements—sorry for the TMI—and I take a shower to prepare myself for church. Dressed in jeans and a light jacket, I make my way to church with my parents. It's a late start for them too, since my dad isn't giving the sermon.

"We noticed that Liss hasn't been the past few weeks," Mom says with a note of concern.

"Yeah!" I gulp. Then, I guess it's finally time for me to explain fully. I spend the whole ride to church telling what Liss allowed me to tell—about her doubts. "So yeah. I'm praying that Liss will have a change of heart."

"We'll pray as well," my dad says. That's what I love about them—they will pray first without offering criticism or some harsh word.

"She opened up about it a bit during our lunches," Mom says. "I think I should've offered to hear her out more."

I pray during the walk across the parking lot to Church Together. God, please speak to Liss' heart. Please give her a fresh word from you.

Then, my thoughts shift to Terry. Please give him the strength to keep pursuing his dream. More than that, give him a seed of faith that can grow. I pray that he will know you one day. That he will know true love—

My eyes widen when I walk into the lobby and find Liss running toward the cafe. "KAYLEE. KAYLEE. KAYLEE!"

Liss has always been known as a bit of an ice queen. Meaning, she doesn't show strong emotion often. I know better, as she's an actual sweetheart. But... she does have a fiery side that comes out in the rarest of moments.

What is she doing in church though? And what does Kaylee have to do with it?

Gulping, I make my way across the hall toward the cafe. I find Liss staring down Kaylee, while the latter presses her back against the shut door to the cafe's bar. "Liss! I swear, I didn't mean to. I mean, I was feeling down about not seeing you. That's why!"

"You stole my phone!" Liss says, pointing to the smartphone in her left palm. "And then you dropped it on the concrete! On purpose?"

Kaylee shakes her head like an actual bobblehead. "No! I didn't mean to. I just wanted to grab your attention."

Liss leans back and sighs, her whole body depressing. "Never mind, Kaylee. I just thought you were over your antics."

"Antics?" Kaylee sniffs. "That's not an antic! That's a technique to bring you back to church! Plus I thought you loved the signature iced teas that I was making. Plus there was that guy that—"

Liss shushes Kaylee while the passing church members try not to stare. I decide to enter the scene, looking as non-threatening as possible. Terry taught me that too, how to adjust my body language, not that I'm a master at it now or anything.

"Hey, you two!" I say. I try for a light grin. "Sorry for interrupting! Is everything okay? I mean, it doesn't really look like that. I don't mean anything by that! I just wanted to check up. Hah. And Liss, I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow."

Liss' face softens. "Sorry you had to see that, Martin. Kaylee's being an immature brat."

Kaylee scoffs and twists around to enter the cafe. "If that's what you want to believe!"

I try to calm Liss down with a quieter voice. "Why don't you join for church since you're here?"

Liss sighs. "I guess so. Kaylee really wanted me to come today. So she stole my phone when I was sleeping. Don't ask me how, because I don't know either."

I subdue a grin thinking about Kaylee and her antics. She lives near Liss, so she must've set up some type of deal with Liss' parents.

One of the announcements is about the church opening up to performers for the next quarter. I gulp, thinking about me and Terry. A faraway dream. Throughout service, I think about my and Terry's latest session in the dance studio.

The message is from one of the rotating pastors, Pastor Laura, and she talks about her testimony—her past of being a bit of a party animal, then finding true love and peace through Jesus. I nod along and take all the notes I can, but most of all her passion speaks to me, the genuine change that someone can go through. From darkness to light.

Liss is contemplative after the message. Could she be reflecting on her own life too? Her testimony?

"Liss—" I start, but all the words get stuck in my throat, the emotion that I might mess up the balance I have with my best friend. I know I shouldn't think like that. I can tell Liss anything! But things have been a bit more delicate after she shared her decision to take a break from church.

She scurries with me over to the cafe, where she gives a scathing glance to Kaylee at the coffee bar. "I think I'll skip the tea today. Anyway, Martin. I wanted to ask you. About you and Terry?" She gives me a knowing look.

I flush involuntarily. What's up with me? "What is there about it?" My voice squeaks unnaturally high when I say the last word, "it."

She raises her brow higher. "You're glowing, Martin. I mean, I was kind of like Nolan at first, honestly. I was worried. But whenever I see you, it's like you came from a facial and a full-on massage. I mean, maybe I have to give up the title of best friend!"

"That's ridiculous!" I say, my voice squeaking again, and cracking too. "Anyway, Liss. It's just dance practice. It's... nothing more."

"Are you sure about that?" Liss says.

I take her by the hand and lead her over to a less crowded area, by one of the doors that are locked during service for security reasons. "Liss. It's confusing. I don't know...."

"Martin, this is another thing I've been questioning," she says. "About your right to love. I'm sorry I didn't voice this sooner. But I really believe that you deserve happiness too. I don't know what that would look like—but maybe it would look like this, with you spending time with someone like Terry."

I gulp, and what feels like an orange gets stuck in my throat. "Liss, my parents maybe won't murder me for it. But it will certainly feel like something has died. And the rest of the church, the leadership here. I don't know how I can handle all of the fallout."

Liss reaches out and grasps both my shoulders, and the scent of her new apple-pear perfume tingles my nose. "Martin, I'll be here for all of that."

Tears rush to my eyes again. I can't believe that I have a friend like Liss, and I know she'll help me through the months and years to come, if I do decide to reveal my lifelong secret.

I gulp, forcing my voice to steady. "Thanks! Liss, that means a lot." Especially because I thought that she'd somehow disappear after not going to church with me. I don't know why I thought that, when she never gave me an indication that she wants to step back from our friendship.

I hum a worship song while taking an evening walk later than Sunday. I think about July and everything it could bring. Maybe I should bring up Terry with my Bible study group this week? I'm sure they would understand. Well, Nolan might throw an absolute fit. He got into a debate with someone in class about the Psalms. I can't remember anything except the debate taking up the majority of class and Nolan constantly listing off the other authors of the Psalms.

I continue to hum, cresting to the bridge. My voice cracks yet again, but I take in the beauty of the God-made sky. Everything is thanks to him, really. Even my ability to hum this song, the ability to enjoy this evening walk. Almost like it was written in my story long before I was born. And that's true, really!

I turn around and squint. Terry's car is rolling down the street, as if he's looking for me. I smile and wave, even though a bit of panic courses through me. Could he be mad? Is he going to cuss me out and tell me never to return to dance class again? Did he catch me staring at his jawline in the mirror, and now he wants to call off everything?

Really, Martin? Call off everything? I wonder if Terry knows that I mentally went on several dates with him already.

"Hey!" Terry says. His blinding smile tells me everything about how he isn't actually mad at me. "I thought I'd find you here. Want to go for an impromptu milkshake?"

I haven't yet told him that I'm a bit lactose intolerant. "Er! Yes, I'd love to. I mean, it's not like I'm against milkshakes or anything. In fact, I have loved every milkshake that I've had with you. Genuinely."

He raises a brow, but then sputters with a short laugh and unlocks his passenger door. "Sure."

As we head away from my neighborhood, I take in his silhouette against the sunset-touched sky. Sure, it's been a long time since he sent me those half-nudes. Since then, I thought he'd take me on a wild journey if I tagged along with him. But everything's been... innocent. He isn't much of a bad boy, though he does have a hint of rebellion within him.

"How's your cat?" I ask.

"Honeydew's still fine," he says, his voice lowering a bit. "I do worry. He's always tired, and he always stares out the window now, as if seeing what awaits him in the next life. Do you think pets go to heaven?"

I gulp and decide not to go on a spiel about there being no Biblical evidence about pets going to heaven. "Um. Yeah?"

"It's okay if you don't believe that," Terry says. "But I do believe that I will see Honeydew once I die. Otherwise, what's the whole point of an afterlife?"

"I always think that I'll meet my ancestors after I die," I say. "They'll ask me tons of questions. And they'll ask me why I made all the weird choices that I did. I think I maybe have let them down."

He turns toward me, shaking his head. "You don't have to worry about that. No one is going to question you when you die."

I swallow down the retort that God will most definitely be "looking" at my choices, even though he will wipe out the bad ones with his grace, not even remembering them.

Terry's car sputters to a stop maybe a block away from the milkshake place. It coughs and trembles, then lets out a horrible creaking down. A second later? Completely dead.

Outside, Terry swears and kicks his car. I try to remain calm. "We can get this fixed! It's good you pulled to the curb. Anyway, the place is only a block away."

Terry sighs. "You're right, Martin. Why do you have such a calming effect on me?"

On me. I gulp and try to walk normally next to him. What does walking normally even mean?

As we walk, Terry sidles closer. He reaches over and grabs my hand. I expect him to show me a new dance move with my arms. Instead, he remains holding it. Not interlacing our fingers, but just holding on. As if for support. Safety.

"Why don't we try this?" he says softly.

I turn toward him, and every nerve in my body alights. He stops. Stares. The sunset shifts to deep twilight in my mind, even though that already happened ten minutes ago.

He leans forward and kisses my cheek, his lips brushing the apple of my left cheek more specifically. My whole vision erupts, and I cough and almost fall backward, my heart constricting with a million tiny little hands.

I panic. "Why don't you perform with me!" I almost shout. "At church! There's a call for performers. I think it would be really good. If you don't mind performing to a worship song!"

He grins, not even questioning the sudden change of topic. "Sure." 

It feels like it's been a while! Have you missed Martin and Terry? 

What do you think is the hardest part of contemporary dance? 

Also, what type of food should Martin and Terry eat in the future? I think they're getting tired of coffee and milkshakes!