Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father

My eyes connect with Jonah, whose eyebrows are expertly lifted. We grin and return to listening in on the siblings’ discussion.

“Right,” Silas replies. “But we still live in Dad’s house. And his rules.”

Bridgette sighs an all-encompassing, deflating sigh. Her face falls. “You’re right.”

“You could always take it out before you go home, or before they come here,” I suggest helpfully.

Jonah bites his lip and turns his head away from the group, his shoulders shaking under a laugh.

Bridgette brightens again. “You’re right!”

“That would be lying.” Silas sounds constipated.

For the first time since interacting with these people, I feel like I have something to offer. “Oh, come on, Silas. How is it lying? Did she tell your parents she wouldn’t pierce her nose?”

“No.”

“Okay, then how will her taking it out for visits—sparing them anxiety, or whatever it is—be lying?”

His jaw pulses against his skin. I’ve pushed far enough.

“I mean,” I add to pull the tension back to me, since poor Bridgette looks conflicted, “I haven’t told you guys I got my lip pierced last year. But have I lied to any of you about it?”

Eden smacks the table to my left. “You have your lip pierced?” she asks in the loudest whisper possible.

“Well, it’s empty at this exact moment, given the rules and all, but…” I press my tongue against the inside of my lip to highlight the hole. It’s tiny, but when you look for it, it’s easy to spot.

Eden leans in so close it could look like we’re about to kiss. I briefly consider doing it just to cause a small riot. When her eyes find the hole, she leans back and shakes her head, a mix of awe and uncertainty across her face.

“I can’t believe you have your lip pierced.”

I shrug. My eyes search the table, and they’re all looking at me with a mix of emotions. Bridgette gleams like I’m some shiny toy. Joy curls her lip the moment my eyes connect with hers. Figures. While Silas’ look is unreadable, when my eyes land on Jonah, he looks away quickly, moving his fork around a completely empty plate. Red. His cheeks are red.

“Anyway,” I clap my hands, “there are four girls and two guys,” I note. “Do you guys have any other friends from your floor or whatever that want to come? Either one or three more?” I add to highlight my understanding of the rule that there needs to be an odd number of people in a mixed-sex group.

As if that’s ever stopped people, I quip in my head.

Jonah stands and addresses Silas. “Let’s ask Brent, he seems like he should get out.”

Silas throws his head back, breaking his stiffness with full-chested laughter. “You’re right on that, brother.”

The group stands and dispenses of their dishes and trash. A mix of pure excitement and nervous excitement ripples through the crowd.

“Okay,” I say when we’re outside. “Meet at the bus stop in a half hour?”

Everyone agrees and goes off in different directions. Silas and Jonah head to their dorm to collect this Brent character and Bridgette and Eden are off to the room to get their money. I always keep mine on me, in case I feel the need to flee at the drop of a hat, so I walk excitedly to the bus stop.

As I lean against the chipped and slightly rusted post holding up the bus stop sign, I wonder how much of the outside world has changed since my week in the fold.





CHAPTER TEN


This Is the Stuff


“This isn’t so bad,” Silas says in near-relief as we wander the streets of downtown Asheville.

“Told you.” I grin and gently elbow his side.

Taking a deep breath of freedom, I lean my head back and observe the insanely blue sky. I’m relieved to see the trees blushing with the signs of autumn. It was one of the first things I’d researched when I decided to come to school here—did they have a normal fall? Being a New England girl, it’s an extremely important detail, and one Asheville seemed more than happy to deliver. Bright oranges and yellows highlight our walk past art vendors and clothing stores.

It just feels so good to be out in public. I feel about as giddy as my friends seemed on the bus ride down here. Well, there were a mix of nerves, for sure. Silas spent the ten-minute bus ride looking out the window and wringing his hands for a few seconds at a clip. Joy rode quietly, her permanently sour expression plastered on her face. I would have avoided asking her to come, but that would have been rude. And, after Silas and Jonah invited Brent, I literally couldn’t ask Joy to stay behind.

Oh, poor, sweet Brent.

Brent is the oldest of six siblings, and the first in even his extended family to go to college. From a tiny town I can’t remember the name of in Texas, this is the furthest Brent has traveled from home. Especially without his parents. He’s a ball of sweat, the poor kid, walking with his head down and barely making eye contact with any of us.