Chapter 1

The drive home from Tia Christie's house in California was boring, of course. I spread out all of my junk on the backseat of the minivan borrowed from Nonno and Nonna. The youth pastor, Kristen, had assigned chapters five through ten of Acts to me to read while I was away. It wasn't a lot, and on the way home I ended up reading the entire book. I didn't know whether she would smile and tell me 'good job' or scold me for reading ahead. Kristen wasn't old and grumpy like the adults that taught the middle school Sunday school and youth group… she was in her mid-twenties, single, and wild. Known for her crazy mood changes and her funny comebacks, no one knew why this woman wasn't married. Even the boys had to wonder at it.

The whole trip I'd been preparing myself to put my plan into action. It was the perfect time to do it, especially while quality time with my Tia was at a high. I now had an education in comebacks and a few lessons in hair-doing. And some advice about a certain somebody named Justin. Justin, my goal and my future husband. My challenge.

Do I sound sappy? Because if I'm being sappy, just tell me to snap out of it, and I'll get on with my story.

Now, Justin was one of those guys that you could never get. And they all said that women were complicated. Ha. Not when it came to Justin. You never knew when he was being serious or not… and when you caught him being serious, you know something had to be wrong. I hadn't known him before he came to our church a few years ago, but I still am sure that he must have been the class clown all while growing up. He was a year older than me, a to-be senior. Despite his funny personality, I knew he had a great relationship with God.

That is, even though he had a habit of "lightening up" (as he called it) devotionals that were supposed to be deep and serious. His off-the-wall comments got the whole group laughing, even Kristen, who was the one that normally planned these insightful Bible studies. Ah, yes, I could go on and on about how funny he is.

But, instead, I'll describe him to you. Long, curly black hair, brown eyes that clashed with his hair, thin lips, and angular face. Not exactly good-looking, but his personality told you that he didn't care what he looked like, and if he wanted to be popular he would be. According to me, he could be popular, but he chose to hang out in his Group, as I called it to myself.

I'm one of those people that could care less what a guy looked like… "Your personality makes your face". See, I can be profound! Yes, the author of cheesy Dr. Seuss rhymes that get B's in Language Arts can be meaningful, too. It's possible.

Well, anyway, somewhere during my ninth grade year I had decided that I was going to marry Justin Hughes. That was the year that he came… and the minute I laid eyes on him I knew he was the one.

Okay, I'm going sentimental again. But anyway, that was before I realized his personality. That just made me afraid of him. I never knew whether he was serious or not, and it was so hard to tell. But I still had my plan. I was going to marry this guy whether he liked it or not. It wasn't as if guys shouted "EEEEEW" when they saw me.

The first moment alone with Tia Christie, and she was asking me how The Plan was working.

With a blush and a self-conscious smile, I sat down by the pool and dipped my feet in as she looked up at me with those dark pools of eyes as she lay on her float in the middle of the pool. "I haven't really started it, actually."

Her mouth formed an O in mock astonishment in her dramatic way as she said, "You haven't started it!" Her long, curly, black hair was spread out on the water in dark waves behind her head and she smiled. "Well, as soon as we go back to your home, we're going to get you started on your Plan." She leaned back onto her gaudy pink float and grinned wider. "I had a Plan when I was your age, too, you know."

I leaned forward, the water wetting my Capri jeans that ended at the middle of my calves. "Did it work? Was Tio your Plan?"

My aunt now sat up, and the edges of her float came up out of the water as she straddled it to look at me. "When I first met him when I was a freshman, I decided that I wanted to date him. When I started hanging out with him, girl, I fell in love with him. And I determined that I was going to make him feel the same for me."

"And this 'him' is…" I pressed.

"Who do you think? Your Tio," Tia Christie smiled at the memory. Of course, I thought, whenever Christie sets her mind to something, she gets it. I wished I could be more like her… and that was when I resolved that I was going to finish my Plan correctly, more determined than ever. Nothing was going to stop me… not even Justin's most disarming comebacks.

"Tia, you know Justin?"

"You've told me all about him, Bella," Christie said. 'Bella' was her nickname for me, because my last name was Bell. Her nickname meant 'pretty' in Italian, and since my mom's side of the family was almost entirely Italian, it was fitting. I, though, had inherited Papa's blonde hair, along with my sister Katie.

"Well, then you know that he is good with comebacks," I sighed. No, it was worse than that. Justin's version of flirting was a series of comebacks thrown back and forth. And I was the one that normally broke that chain after a few retorts, so he never flirted with me long enough for my satisfaction.

"And, let me guess, you need some help with your own, right?" Tia Christie's eyes were laughing… and I was sure it was at me. And so it was that I had asked Christie's help. And I got a lot more than that.

I got makeup, instructions on how to use it correctly, a book full of do-it-yourself hairstyles and some of Christie's own, and several lessons on comebacks and flirting.

But now, as I stood with my Bible in one hand and nothing in my other, I wasn't so sure about any of it. I'd walked in the door of Kristin's house, where she liked to hold youth group, and was about to sit down on the stools by the island in the kitchen and wait for everybody else to arrive when Justin appeared, probably out of the bathroom.

I took a handful of goldfish and poured a glass of lemonade from the pitcher sitting on the counter as he came into the kitchen. "Want some?"

"Oh, hey, Alliebelle!" That was their nickname for me. My first name was Allie, so when they put those two together it ended up as Alliebelle, sort of like Annabelle except with an 'Allie' at the beginning, they said. I blushed at my nickname and looked up at him expectantly, my hand poised with the pitcher and a cup in the other for him. "Sure, I'll take some. Thanks."

He was being very polite that day. Kristen came out and hugged me and I told her triumphantly of my readings over the trip. I told the two of them and gradually the people that joined us of my adventures over the last two weeks with my Tia Christie. Kristen was fascinated with my Italian relatives.

And those were the only words that Justin spoke to me that evening. I laughed at all his silly comments, and once he smiled at me during devotions. But that was all. I kept replaying that smile in my mind's eye as I drove home that night, like a shy schoolgirl with a crush.

Christie was waiting at the kitchen table for me when I got home. I laughed when I saw the package of Oreos and two glasses of milk waiting patiently for my return. Christie was spending the next month with us while Mama and Papa were gone on vacation. They said every couple needs a while by themselves, and I was more than happy to hear that Tia was the one that would watch us since I wasn't eighteen yet and my parents didn't trust me for more than a few nights watching Katie. Katie didn't really need to be watched, though, since she was fifteen, but I guess they felt better with Christie staying with us.

"How'd it go, Bella?" Tia Christie asked.

I plopped down on the chairs and sat cross-legged as I dipped my Oreo in my glass of milk. "He only said hi and I poured him a glass of lemonade."

Tia looked confused, so I told her about how the evening went. I told her every word the guy said, and when I was done, she shook her head with a smile. "You've got it bad, girly."

And then I realized that, yes, I did have it bad. And I was ready to swear in Italian like Tia had taught me when I was little. I didn't want to "have it bad". That would mean being nervous and obsessed… like a shy schoolgirl with a crush.