Chapter 8
Iplayed until one in the morning after texting Ash and getting invited to the clan. Not my best idea the night before going to church, but I’m blaming whoever decided to hold church services on Sunday mornings.
Mom’s already crying and we’ve only parked. I’m back in my uncomfortable clothes. I haven’t eaten breakfast. Churches make me feel weird. I should like all the rules, the rigidity of it, but every time I’ve been to any church, I get overwhelmed by the false sentiments. The false sincerity, false kindness, false truth. It’s not that I think no one is sincere, or kind, or truthful, only that I get the feeling that most people there are putting on an act because they’re in church. They’re pretending to care about you,because you’re in church, and God says you’re supposed to love everyone, right?
The Whitakers attend a nondenominational church. The building looks nice, but it’s next to a combo laser tag/bowling alley, and that takes away any of the power or majesty it might’ve had. Churchgoers mill around before the service starts.
“I’m going to find Ash,” I tell Mom. It’s more an excuse to get away from her than anything. I weave through the crowd, scanning everyone. I can’t even find Mr. and Mrs. Whitaker—are they here yet? I make it to the other side of the room, then turn to go back.
Ash is standing behind me. My heart leaps into my throat. I stumble backward; he grabs my arm to keep me upright.
“Ah, shit. Sorry.” He lets me go quickly, both hands up in apology. His scowl makes him look apologetic and furious at the same time. It’s kind of cute.
“It’s okay. I’m normally not that easy to scare.” I’m surprised I didn’t mind him touching me. He grabbed me with the same hand he hurt on Thursday, but he just has a small Band-Aid on it now. My heart is still beating fast, and it’s not because he surprised me. “I was looking for you.”
He frowns at me. “Oh. Sorry, I could have texted you. Do you want to sit with us? Mom told me to ask. We’ll be in the front row, so I get if you don’t want to—”
“I will,” I say quickly. Sitting next to Ash will be way betterthan sitting next to some stranger who’s going to ask me who I am and how I’m feeling.
Ash’s lips quirk. I think it’s a smile, but it’s hard to tell. He runs his uninjured hand through his hair. He has great hair, longer than most of the boys I know, and it looks soft, shiny, and dark. We stand there for a moment in awkward silence.
“Oh... let me tell my mom I found you. I’ll be right back.”
I speed off through the crowd. I find my mom talking to some other ladies near a big crucifix by the doors to the nave. She isn’t crying now. “The Whitakers want us to sit with them in the front,” I tell her. “I’m going to go in with Ash. I left him over by the windows.”
Then I’m off again. Ash is where I left him, checking his phone. In his khakis and pale blue button-down, he looks as uncomfortable as I feel. He normally wears soccer jerseys and sweatpants.
“Why do you look surprised?” he asks when I stop beside him again.
“I didn’t expect you to still be here,” I say.
“You said you’d be right back.”
“Yeah, but people don’t wait for me.”
He scowls. “That’s stupid.”
I can’t help smiling. It’s nice to be around someone who’s so blunt. Being near Ash, especially here, makes me feel like I’m in a kind of protective bubble. I don’t have to pretend, and I don’t have to worry that he’s pretending.
His cheeks are still red. He clears his throat. “Have you checked the Discord yet this morning? Since you joined, Zoo thought it’d be a good idea to have a day of running dungeons to get everyone’s alts up to the level cap and gear them out. He’s impressed with you.”
I haven’t talked to Zookini, the leader of Ikelos Lair, much yet, but he seems serious about the game. If he’s impressed with me, that means I’m doing something right. I have the potential I thought I had. I get out my phone and pull up Discord, where the clan has a server we use to talk to each other outside the game. There’s the post—I wasn’t tagged in it or anything, but it’s so close after me joining, it seems like it’s got to be because of me.
“Today? Hell yeah.” I stop, look around. “Ah, church, sorry.”
Ash snorts.
“I’ll need it after this,” I say. “This is the worst.”
He cuts his gaze sideways, to where his parents stand, leaning on one another. His voice is low so no one nearby hears. “I couldn’t have said it better. It’s literally the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I’d rather have my leg broken again. I want it to be over. But we keep having to do shit like this. Go to memorials. Explain to yet another distant relative what happened. Have people tell me they’re sorry, like it’s going to make a difference. I want people to leave me alone.”
“Somewhere else, someone else,” I say.
“Exactly,” he replies.
“Two hours,” I say, “then we can be.”
He closes his eyes and exhales hard through his nose. “Two hours.”
