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Annie
‘What are you doing up so early?’ Mum asks, flicking the kettle on and dragging the container of teabags to her.
I rub my eyes and glance at the clock. ‘I have exams coming up, remember?’
She gets two mugs from the cupboard above her and drops teabags into them, despite the fact that I prefer to drink coffee in the mornings. Nowhere in the Bible does it say we aren’t allowed to drink coffee. The organisation tells us to make our own decision about it and not judge others for theirs. But at some point, Mum made the decision for both of us, and turning eighteen doesn’t seem to count for much. So when she places the tea in front of me, I say thank you and drink it.
‘Do you know Tamsin from school?’ I ask as I’m packing up my books.
Mum rests a hip on the bench, watching me. ‘Her dad’s a solicitor, yes?’
I nod, barely believing what I’m about to say. ‘She invited me over tomorrow night.’
‘To her house?’
Another nod.
Mum blows on her tea. ‘Do you have a school assignment together or something?’
‘No. She invited me to just… sleep over and hang out.’
I’m met with a worried sigh.
‘That’s just asking for trouble. We all know how worldly girls that age spend their Saturday nights.’
I scrape my teeth over my lip. ‘I don’t, actually. I’ve never been with any of them on a Saturday night.’
Mum’s face pinches with worry. ‘Annie. Please be smart. I’m sure Tamsin’s a lovely girl, but she doesn’t live by Jehovah’s moral standards.’
Irritation pulses through me. ‘That doesn’t mean she’s without morals.’
Another sigh. ‘I know it’s tempting, but why make life harder for yourself?’
My foot bounces furiously under the table. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’
‘The other day, when Brother Oliver spoke to me about my skirt, did you agree with him?’
She frowns at the question, clearly not following. ‘When he commented on the length?’
‘Yes, when he commented on the length.’
She turns the cup in her hands. ‘I mean, I could see his point once it was brought to our attention. Why are you asking about that now?’
‘Because I thought it was ridiculous.’ I should stop there, but I don’t. ‘And inappropriate.’
‘Inappropriate how?’
My hands are clamming up. ‘They’re knees, Mum. And he’s the only person who noticed them.’
‘Because he was on the platform looking down, a bird’s-eye view.’
‘They’re knees.’ I’m not sure why I think emphasis will help her understand my point. ‘Never mind.’
She sets her cup down. ‘They must draw a line somewhere, or we’ll have sisters walking around in miniskirts.’
I stand up, stuffing my books into the open bag on the next chair.
