I nodded. “Need any help?”
“Do you know how to cook?”
“No.”
“Then just stay right there,” he replied, and winked.
I rolled my eyes and took another sip of coffee.
When all the banging and sizzling and clanking and slapping were done, Mark filled the table with several plates of breakfast treats: pancakes, bacon, sausage, hash browns, scrambled eggs, toast, and cinnamon rolls. There was also fresh-squeezed orange juice.
“Nice touch,” I said, pouring some juice.
“I’m trying my hardest to impress you,” he replied. “And I’m ravenous.”
“You and me both,” I said, and bowed my head. I didn’t think about it. It was automatic. I even did it at school, though I was much more covert about it. It’s not that I was ashamed of praying over my food, but I didn’t want to make others uncomfortable. I didn’t want to make Mark uncomfortable, so I said a quickie: Dear God, thank you for this amazing breakfast, and snapped my head up.
Mark was smiling at me. He’d waited to pile his plate until I finished.
“What’d you pray about?”
“The food,” I said.
“Praying it’d be good?” he asked.
I laughed. “No. I know it’ll be good. I thanked God for it.”
“But I’m the one who made it,” he said.
“Well, thank you,” I replied.
He inclined his head, then poured a massive amount of syrup on his pancakes.
“What else did you pray about?” he asked as he shoveled pancakes in his mouth.
“Nothing.”
“Didn’t thank God for anything else you received this morning?”
I froze, my fork centimeters from my lips. “Is that supposed to be funny?”
“A little,” he said, and bit into a piece of sausage.
“It’s not,” I snapped, and shoved hash browns in my mouth.
“Cadence? Seriously? I’m just joking with you,” Mark said.
“You’re making fun of me.”
“I am not. That’s not fair.”
I ignored him and continued eating.
“I really wasn’t trying to be an asshole, Cadence,” Mark said gently.
I was silent for a moment.
“What I’m doing is wrong,” I said finally.
“What do you mean?”
“Being with you. Sneaking around. Lying. Letting you do things to me,” I said. “It’s wrong, and I feel guilty.”
“Do you really think it’s wrong that we’re together?” Mark asked. “Or do you think it’s wrong because that’s what you’ve been taught?”
“What’s the difference?”
“The difference is that you’re a young woman old enough to make your own decisions.”
“Ah, yes, moral relativism,” I said.
“Nope. I’m not talking about moral relativism at all. I’m talking about you being old enough to define your boundaries, decide your values based on what allows you to live a good life—”
I opened my mouth to object.
“—as long as you’re not hurting anyone else,” Mark finished.
I grunted and shoved a pancake in my mouth.
“Are you enjoying breakfast?” Mark asked.
“The actual breakfast? Yes. The conversation? I don’t know,” I replied, downing the rest of my juice.
“Well, I’m enjoying both,” Mark said.
“How can we go from oral sex to talking about God?” I asked.
“Why can’t we?”
“Isn’t it disrespectful?”
“I don’t think so.”
I chewed on my bottom lip.
“There’s more to eat, you know,” Mark said, observing me.
“Funny,” I replied, and piled my plate again.
“You’re not doing anything wrong, Cadence,” Mark said. “I mean, you’re not doing anything wrong being with me.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t share my values,” I replied. I didn’t know what that meant, mostly because I wasn’t sure what his values were.
“Then why are you with me?”
I jerked my head to look at him. “What does that mean?”
“Calm down. It wasn’t meant to sound aggressive. I love that you’re with me. I hope you continue to be with me. But I don’t want you feeling guilty about it all the time.”
“I don’t,” I said. “I mean, most of the time I don’t. But I really don’t like lying to my parents.”
“I know.”
“Not because I especially like them right now. I think they’re mean to me. I’ve been so good. I’ve tried so hard. And nothing. They would have never let me drive if I weren’t failing your class, and they’d never let me go anywhere if Avery hadn’t come into the picture.” I pushed my eggs around the plate.
“Well, maybe you can look at those things as divine intervention,” Mark said.
I studied his face, but there was no hint of sarcasm. He wasn’t making fun of me. He was trying to make me feel better.
“So what happened that night?”
I tensed, unsure if I wanted to reveal the details of that fateful evening.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said quickly.
“No, it’s okay. As long as you don’t judge.”
“I’ve never judged anyone over anything,” he said.
“Skeletons in your closet?” I asked, smirking.
“Several. But we’re not going there yet,” he said. “We’re talking about you.”
“Ah, yes. Me. Me and my big mistake,” I said, scooping more eggs onto my fork. “Well, there’s not much to tell.”
“I’m sure there is,” Mark teased.
I sighed. “All right. I made a big mistake. I didn’t listen to Gracie when she told me not to go to that party. I went because Dean invited me.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah, Dean.”
“But he’s a loser,” Mark said.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m aware. But my boyfriend had just broken up with me, and I was vulnerable, okay?”
“I understand,” Mark said.
I chuckled. He didn’t understand, but whatever.
“So anyway, he invited me to a stupid party. I’d never been invited to a party. I wasn’t popular or anything, but I wasn’t an outcast either. Just one of the regular, mostly see-through kids.”
“Regular, mostly see-through kid,” Mark repeated. “I like that.”
I nodded. “I went, and I spent half the night trying to get Dean’s attention. It was stupid. I was gonna leave, but I went to the bathroom first. And that’s when he came in and offered me cocaine.”