Page 120 of Sunday Morning

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Page 120 of Sunday Morning

As quickly as she appeared, she vanished.

I combed my fingers through my sticky hair. After I left Isaac, I went to McDonald’s for a drink and to use the bathroom to freshen up. Then I picked up a deodorant at the pharmacy. Still, I was a mess.

As I slipped into the church, my dad finished his opening prayer with a mumbled “Amen” from Joanna’s friends and family. I hadn’t been friends with her as long as I had with Heather, but ten years was still a long time, and my bravery was waning by that point. I just wanted to hide somewhere far away from these people who looked at me with pity as I padded my way to the row where my mom and sisters were sitting next to the Corys.

I don’t know why I didn’t expect to see Isaac, but he was there, and so was Matt. They sat together with their parents in the middle separating them. Everyone in Devil’s Head excelled at brushing things under the rug and plastering on fake smiles when necessary. It was small-town protocol.

But my broom was broken, and I was fresh out of plaster.

Isaac sat on the end of the aisle, so instead of squeezing past everyone’s knees to reach my mom and sisters, I wedged into the ten-inch space between him and the end of the bench. I didn’t look at his parents or Matt, nor did I look at my mom and sisters.

When everyone scooted in to make room for me, Isaac didn’t budge, not even as my dad eyed us while quoting scripture. Isaac held his space, which meant we were touching shoulder to toe. He didn’t look at me, and I didn’t look at him, but I felt him. And that was enough to hold it together.

Joanna’s cousin sang a song, and our friend Kennedy recited a poem. I didn’t sob as I did at Heather’s funeral, but with every blink, I released tears. Isaac proved to be his father’s son, whether he would have liked that label or not. He handed me a neatly folded hanky. As I blotted my tears, I slid my leg around the back of his. It wasn’t holding hands, but it was a close second that was more discreet.

After the final prayer, I continued to look straight ahead at the stained-glass window while the casket and family were ushered out of the church. When our row stood, everyone filed toward the middle aisle, but I turned left, fleeing down the side aisle and squeezing past an older couple exiting the double doors. If Joanna and Heather were eating popcorn without me, I would not put myself through the burial. So I ran to my car, which was parked a ways down the road. As I drove past the steep drive up to the church, Eve came out of nowhere and smacked the back of my car with her hand.

I skidded to a stop, and she hopped in the passenger’s seat, breathless.

When I opened my mouth to protest, she shook her head. “Just drive.”

We had an hour, maybe two, before Mom, Dad, and Gabby would be home. I parked in front of the garage. Eve and I hadn’t said a word since she got into the car. I didn’t know what she expected from me, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting out of that stupid black dress that reeked of sweat and death.

Eve followed me into the garage like my shadow. I grabbed a pack of matches and a can of gasoline that Dad used for the lawnmower. Then I headed to the back of the house where we had a burn barrel.

“What are you doing?” Eve broke her silence.

I ignored her while unzipping my dress and kicking off my shoes. I threw them into the barrel and stared at Eve. After a silent exchange, Eve removed her dress and shoes and added them to the barrel. Then I poured gasoline on everything and tossed a lit match into the bin as we took a big step back when flames engulfed the contents. After a few minutes, Eve stood behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my shoulder. There was no way to hide the obvious: I would never be the same.

We stood idle, mesmerized by the fire— bereft with a heart wrapped in grief. Eve’s empathy brought about a fresh round of tears. I rested my hands on hers and whispered, “Thank you.”

We stood there until the flames died. I pulled out of Eve’s embrace, walked into the house, and straight to the shower. But no matter how hard I scrubbed my skin with a bar of soap, I couldn’t erase what had happened. There were too many layers of despair.

With a towel wrapped around my head, I wiped the steam from the mirror and gazed at the utter disappointment staring back at me. I escaped death. Did that make me lucky or a cheater? Would Heather have left that early in the morning? Would Joanna have lived had I been there and she would have sat in the back seat?

The answers to those questions didn’t change reality, but they changed my self-worth. Did God punish my friends for covering for me? Did he spare my life so that I would suffer the most?

After another minute or two of self-loathing, I sulked toward my bedroom.

“Want to feel less awful for a little bit?” Eve said,standing in her doorway. She was wearing a T-shirt and underwear and holding a bottle of tequila.

“I knew you were the bigger rebel,” I said while padding my way toward her and taking the bottle as she shut her bedroom door behind us. “Where did you get this?” I removed the lid and took a swig, coughing the second it burned my throat.

“It’s best if you don’t know.” She grabbed the bottle and tipped it at her lips, swallowing without a single cough before passing it back to me. “I’m still a virgin, which means you’re still the bigger rebel.”

“About that,” I sat on her bed, folding my legs under me, “Don’t give it to another virgin. It’s not beautiful. It’s awkward and awful.”

Her eyebrows climbed up her head. “You had sex with Matt?”

I nodded.

“AndIsaac.”

After another big swig, I nodded again, already feeling the tequila hitting my brain. “It’s funny how with most things in life, we learn from teachers or people who are far more experienced, but with sex,” I laughed, “the Bible wants us to believe that men and women should just figure it out together for the first time.” I waved my hand in the air as she took the bottle from me. “Nonsense.” I fell back onto her bed next to her. “Find a guy who knows what he’s doing. Who loves giving you orgasms.” I closed my eyes as my head began to swim. “Isaac givesthe bestorgasms.”

Eve giggled. “I’m pretty good too. I touch myself all the time, but I do it in the dark under my sheets so Jesus won’t see me.”

We laughed and drank until I was certain we’d confessedall of our sins to each other, knowing neither would remember the next day.




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