Page 105 of People Like Us

I pictured myself squeezed into a booth beside Andy while Pastor Spires smiled benevolently over cheap steak and sweet tea. The pastor and his wife on one side. My father and stepmother on the other. Andy and I stuck in the middle of them looking at us like a good investment finally maturing properly.

Meanwhile August would be at Morgan’s party waiting for me. I forced a tight smile. “Sounds fun.”

My father nodded once, satisfied enough with my performance to stop watching me quite so closely.

I escaped down the narrow hallway toward my bedroom where muted sunlight leaked through the thin curtains in weak gold stripes across my ivory bedspread. Fabric scraps littered the floor beside my sewing machine where I’d finished the dress I’d finished making for Morgan that morning.

I shut the door behind me harder than necessary. Then immediately leaned against it with my eyes closed. “Jesus Christ,” I whispered to myself. The irony of saying it while preparing for baptism nearly made me laugh again.

I crossed the room and yanked open my closet. White dresses hung crowded together along the rod like phantoms. I stared at them for a long moment before my eyes landed on the shortest one I owned.

White cotton and sleeveless. The hem landed high enough above the knee to irritate every adult woman in the congregation while still technically qualifying as modest because it was white.

Perfect. If they wanted their symbolic rebirth so badly, then I could at least show up dressed like temptation.

The sanctuary smelled like river water and old perfume, the sharp mineral scent of the baptism trough cutting through the usual haze of lemon wood polish and dusty hymnals. The overhead lights buzzed faintly, turning everyone’s white baptism clothes almost blue beneath them. From where I stood in line beside Andy, I could see half the congregation craning their necks to watch the people ahead of us step into the silver trough one by one like lambs being led to slaughter. The church felt overheated despite the cold rain outside, thick with body heat and damp fabric and expectation.

My stepmother had taken my phone the second we walked through the doors, slipping it into her purse with a bright smile that somehow felt more threatening than if she’d yelled at me outright. Now I stood trapped at the front of the church while Pastor Spires droned on about rebirth and salvation behind us.

Beside me, Andy shifted, barefoot and restless. The long white shirt his mother had picked out for him hung loose over his shoulders, and I could feel irritation rolling off him in waves.

I leaned toward him slightly, keeping my voice low beneath the pastor’s speech. “Did you not tell your parents we broke up?”

Andy looked down at me slowly, his mouth twitching into something bitter. “Oh, sorry,” he muttered. “Are you talking to me again?”

I rolled my eyes hard enough my head hurt. “You’re the one who stopped sitting with us at lunch. I didn’t kick you out of the group, Andy.”

He scoffed softly, jaw tight. “I know that. I’ve been trying to catch up on extra credit so my dad doesn’t fucking murder me.”

There was enough venom behind the joke to make my stomach turn. I glanced sideways at him. Up close, the shadows under his eyes looked bruised purple.

“I can help you,” I whispered. “If you need it.”

“Yeah?” His gaze slid toward me then, sharp around the edges. “Your new boyfriend is gonna be okay with that?”

My throat tightened instantly. Around us, people clapped politely as the first teenager emerged dripping from the baptism trough while Pastor Spires smiled like a televangelist. I stared straight ahead instead of answering.

Andy laughed under his breath. “Thought so.”

The silence stretched ugly between us before he muttered, “You haven’t told your parents either.”

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to eventually. I can’t do this weird family dinner tonight anyway. It’s Morgan’s birthday.”

August was probably already helping his sister set up decorations. I imagined him stringing lights along the garage roof with that furrow between his brows he got whenever he concentrated too hard on something simple.

Andy exhaled sharply through his nose. “We’ll get out of it after this. Let’s just…get fucking baptized first, okay?”

I glanced sideways at the massive bin of river water before Pastor Spires, silver and cloudy beneath the stage lights.

“I didn’t realize this was gonna be a community event,” I muttered. “It’s kinda gross for all of us to be getting in and out of the same water.”

Andy barked out a laugh before he could stop it. “It’s no different than a public pool.”

I grimaced. “Have you ever seen me get in a public pool?”

His mouth twitched despite himself. “Nah. You’ve always been too much of a princess to do anything dirty.” Then his expression shifted, something crooked and nostalgic moving through it. “Except cornfields, I guess,” he added. “You always seemed pretty fond of those.”

I stuck my tongue out at him automatically. “Was I?”