Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father

“You do?!”

She smiles, unaffected by my outburst. “Well, of course. A girl with no evangelical history suddenly very friendly with the pastor? Sure. But her actions were not okay. You can be sure I’ll deal with her. Like, right now. I just wanted to come make sure you were okay. Have you talked with Roland? Or your mom?”

I shake my head.

Matt places his hand on my shoulder. “I can take her over to Roland’s house and we can kind of deal with everything there. I don’t want her going back to the dorm, and I especially don’t want her going anywhere alone.”

I twitch my eyebrow. “Protective much?”

Matt clenches his jaw. “You have no clue how big this is, do you?”

His tone seems a bit dramatic, but looking at the other two people in the room, I see the situation is quite serious.

“Big how?” I ask, my voice feeling infinitesimally small.

“Everyone will have questions,” Jack answers. “And they won’t stop until they get them from you and Roland.”

I turn to Matt. “That’s why you brought me here and not to my dorm, isn’t it? Because no one would look for me in the boys’ dorm. Smart.”

He makes a clicking noise before putting his hand on my shoulder. “K. Sawyer, you just became the most popular girl at Carter University, and probably the whole evangelical community if we give it a day or two.”

He must be joking.

Reaching for my cell phone, which I left on vibrate when I went to intercept Eden and Bridgette at Planned Parenthood, I wonder how “big” this situation could possibly get. A quick look at my “Missed Calls” shows the potential for really big. There are five from my stepsister, three from Dan, ten—ten!—from my mom, and an equal number from Roland.

Shit.

Maggie stands slowly and places her hands on her hips. “I’m going to go track down Joy.”

“I’ve got to get to Roland,” I say, standing on freshly wobbly legs.

Jack holds out his hands. “I don’t really know how to handle this. Maggie, are you okay with the two of them walking to Pastor Abbot’s house?”

Before turning to him, I catch Maggie comically roll her eyes. “I’d say this situation is outside any CU protocol. They’re fine.” She turns to me. “Get going before everyone comes back from dinner and you’re bombarded.”

Matt opens the door, sticking his head out cautiously, checking for people wandering, I assume. “It’s clear,” he says quietly.

I find it hard to move my legs, but do so anyway in the interest of getting somewhere else. Walking down the stairs, Matt fishes car keys out of his pocket.

“Why do you get to have a car?” I question without much conviction, referring to CU’s stance that only those students with the highest privileges get to have their vehicles on campus.

“Favoritism,” Matt blurts out cynically.

There’s much more there, but I can’t focus long enough to ask follow up questions, so I drop it.

Navigating the short mile to Roland’s house in Matt’s new-looking Jeep, I dial my parents’ house number.

“Kennedy?!” Mom shrieks thanks to caller ID.

“I’m fine.” I know in what order to address her concerns.

“Jesus, Kennedy. What the hell is going on?” She’s in full-on panic mode.

I give her a few seconds to tell me what she knows and how. Apparently my Facebook page has gotten quite popular since Joy started handing out the “Look Who’s Sleeping with the Pastor” flyers. Pictures of the poster along with a host of un-Christian wall posts from my CU classmates, according to my mom, went viral. When those who stuck around Mission Hall heard my revelation about my actual relationship with Roland, the activity on my Facebook page exploded past viral to epidemic. My stepsister Jenny called our parents after failing to reach me when she saw my name filling up her newsfeed.

“Matt is taking me to Roland’s house now,” I reply, ignoring all information regarding social media. I haven’t been on my Facebook page in days. I can’t say my curiosity isn’t on overdrive, though.

“Who is Matt?” she demands.

“Matt Wells. I guess Roland is friends with—”

“Is his father Buck Wells?”

I hold my phone a few inches in front of my face, perplexed.

“What?” Matt asks.

I shake my head “I…is your dad’s name Buck?”

Matt laughs. “It’s Joseph, but…when he was younger…yeah.” Matt shakes his head and grins. “Buck.”

Without explanation to Matt, I return to my mom. “Yeah, it’s Buck. Why?”

“Interesting,” she replies, sounding far away for a moment. “Just…get to your father’s house and call—”

Mom stops talking and I stop breathing. Not once in my eighteen and a half years has she referred to Roland by anything other than Roland. She’s never even called him my birth father. I don’t even know how to respond.

I clear my throat. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” she says with a little less confidence in her voice than when we started the call.

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”