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Tomorrow, I reminded myself. I might even be able to get a kiss from him in the city. The thought had me grinning.
Fuck yeah.
4
JONAS
Mom staredat me as she patted the blonde bun that sat on top of her head. The heavy odor of grease from the bacon she’d cooked for breakfast lingered in the air, and my stomach growled even though I had only eaten a half hour ago. I could barely stand to watch Mom pick at her hair. She’d left a few strands out and curled them at the sides of her face, and I could smell the reek of the hairspray she’d used to shellac them into shape from the other side of the kitchen next to the table.
“You look nice, Mom,” I said, glancing down at the gray knee-length dress she wore with a black belt cinching it in at her waist. She took a pair of white gloves out of her pocket and tugged them on. “Very classy.”
“Your father says I look like a young Tammy Faye.” She grinned at me and held up her hands. “I got these for the entire choir. Do you like them?”
“Uh, that’s nice.” I wasn’t certain Dad had meant his snide remark as a compliment because Mom’s makeup was heavy handed, and he regularly railed against that sort of thing at church, but she seemed pleased. I didn’t want her irritated with me, so I kept my mouth shut. Life was easier when I said nothing at all.
“I have to get going because I’m leading the ladies’ choir.” She smoothed her dress down and sighed. “You’re still volunteering today with those unfortunate children in the city?” There was the tiniest bit of condemnation in the way she said the wordcitythat had me on high alert.
Don’t fidget. She will know you did something wrong.“Yes, Mom. It looks good on my college applications.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She shook her head and her curls bounced against her cheeks. “You’re already a shoo-in at Southern Methodist University. It’s where I met your father, and it will be perfect for you.” She smiled, and I felt guilty because there wasn’t a chance in hell I was applying to a Christian college willingly, let alone go to one in Texas where I wouldn’t know a single person.
“Isn’t everyone armed there?”
She crossed her arms and her mouth twisted into a frown. “Don’t get smart with me. But on to more important things, young man. You still haven’t contacted anyone above you in the program about that trash magazine you confiscated from one of the children. It’s vile. Honey, I know you want to be Christlike and kind to everyone, but you haven’t seen much of the world. Some children can’t be saved, and you must make room for the ones who can be turned toward God. Whoever bought that magazine for a child should be held accountable, tossed into jail, and the child obviously needs more help than you can give them.” She shook her head, and my face boiled with shame at the lies I’d told and her judgment.
I wanted to scream “It was me! It was mine! I like sweaty men touching!” just so she would stop acting all smug, but I’d worked so hard to get her to believe my lie that I couldn’t ruin it now.
“Well—”
“And after that other sordid business with Chet, you’d think you would’ve learned your lesson about being kind tothosesorts of people. He attempted to drag you down with him and haul your good name through the mud. Daddy will be having more words with his parents today.”
I felt bad for Chet based on the fact that he might have to sit through another lecture from Dad alone. My feelings must’ve shown on my face because Mom made an empathetic noise and hustled across the room to hug me. Her arms felt alien around me because we hadn’t touched much in the last few years. Her perfume was the type of thing that tickled my nose and made me want to sneeze—overly sweet.
“We raised you too right.” She leaned back and smiled, the bridge of her nose wrinkling a little. “It’s our fault for not arming you better against those horrible people.”
I knew what she wanted right now, and after everything, it made me low-key furious. I forced a smile. “You and Dad are perfect parents. Just the other day, I heard Mrs. Hannon tell her daughter Kyla that she wanted her to be more like me.”
Mom laughed and kissed my cheek. Embarrassment and a bit of self-loathing seethed in my gut. Making Mom happy always let me breathe easier, but it came with a price.
Mom hummed a song I didn’t recognize as she went through the kitchen door into the hallway to stand in front of the mirror near the front door and poke at her hair again. “Those city kids. There’s a reason we moved away from New Gothenburg when I was pregnant.” She shook her head and grabbed her purse from the half-moon table under the mirror. “Are you certain you don’t want me to drive you?”
“No, if you do and you’re late to the church, Mrs. Oaks will start leading the practice, and you—”
“Hate that,” she finished for me with a giggle. She pointed at me. “That woman has the worst breathing habits. She murders every song she sings.”
Smiling, I went over to hug her again, and it was a fragile, distant embrace—unlike what had happened in the kitchen—which was our usual attempt at being close. “Exactly. I’ve gotta go, Mom.”
“Be safe! Call if you need me.”
I rushed out the front door and gave her one last wave as I closed it behind me. I patted down my jeans for my phone and wallet as I blinked against the early morning sunshine. It was one of those days that wasn’t quite cool enough for a jacket, so I had on a long-sleeved green Henley. Mom hadn’t asked why I wasn’t in workout gear to go to the soccer field.Thank you, God, for letting me get away with this.I sent up a silent prayer begging the big man upstairs to help me stay off my parents’ radar for the entire day. I’d done a lot of good in my life, and I really wanted this time with Ethan not to get messed up.
It only took me about ten minutes to get to the bus stop outside of the community next to the main road, which wound its way into New Gothenburg. It was a good thing that I didn’t need to wait near any of the businesses because it meant there was less of a chance someone would notice me with Ethan and tell Mom and Dad. He wasn’t there when I arrived. Disappointment sank its fangs into me as I waited.What if he doesn’t show up? What if he was pulling a prank on me with that terrible friend of his?I didn’t think so, but it was possible. A cool breeze ruffled my hair, and I wrapped my arms around my middle.
Loud music thumping from the road to my left snagged my attention, and an old car passed on the way to the trailer park—or at least, I assumed that was where it was headed. I was stunned when a beer can came flying out and clattered against the back of the bus stop shelter, narrowly missing me. The guy who’d shoved me yesterday stuck his head out the window while he laughed, and then he gave me the finger. His hair whipped into his face and he swore, disappearing back into the car.
Fury pelted through me, and I picked up the beer can, hurling it after the vehicle. I was a little surprised at myself, but I was tired of people picking on me for no good reason—strangers, Mom, Dad. Why couldn’t everyone just leave me alone? I never bothered other people.
“Hey. Good aim.”
