To think that God loves the trees, but condemns that blossoming thing they do in the spring.

But then I met you,' he says.

Something is happening between us. Something has been happening between us since our eyes met on the first day of class. I want to see him before he leaves town. I don't care what Mom says. I don't care what the doctrine is. After all, it's not my church.

I like you,' I say. But when I look over, I see that these words aren't enough; they don't clear away the expression on his face. 'And I know your church doesn't allow that kind of feeling.