He’s shaking his head. “From the moment I first met you and knew you were my family, I was no longer a pastor. I was your uncle. Family first. And not only that, but I’ve been Micah’s friend a long time. I’ve watched him hurt for years because of the way his church family treated him. I knew better. He proved that to me. Please forgive me.”

“Okay,” I say easily. “But I’m still not coming back to youth group.”

“That’s fine. They won’t take you. Mrs. Sanderson is stepping into my old role.”

“Oh nooo.”

“Hell in a handbasket,” he admits wryly.

“Maybe I should reach out to Becca, let her know I’m here if she ever wants to talk to someone who’s not her mom.”

James grins. “That would be awesome. Maybe I’ll reach out to a few of the guys, too. Let them know I’m around.”

“Maybe every first Tuesday from 8:00 to 10:00 p.m. on the front porch or something,” I suggest idly.

“I’ll probably drop off doughnuts and cookies those days, purely coincidentally,” Betty says.

My mom groans. “Maybe I should reach out to my new friend, Mrs. Sanderson, and ask her to coffee those days. From 8:00 to 10:00 p.m. To make amends.”

My eyes widen. “You’d do that?”

My mom shrugs, looking mischievous. “We all have our crosses to bear. If it means a generation of girls not growing up hating their bodies, it will be worth it.”

And with that settled, we scarf down cinnamon rolls, and the secret underground unofficial monthly youth gathering doesn’t come up again. Me, across from my mom, sitting next to my great-grandmother, sitting next to my uncle. I try to remember back to that day in August when all the secrets came out and I came to Marquette. I’d stood on the shore of Lake Superior, feeling empty and small and alone, hoping to figure out who I was.

I think I’m finally starting to figure it out.

EPILOGUE

Micah

SUMMER

“And you’re sure this is safe?” Luke Greenly squints over the edge of the cliff to the shimmering waves of Lake Superior below. Dude is practically translucent in the hot July sun, his pale blond hair gathered at the nape of his neck in a stubby ponytail. Apparently, the pony is recent. Meg keeps calling him “beatnik,” while his twin, Cullen, keeps frowning at his “blatant American aesthetic.”

Guess sunny California will do that for a guy. Vada isn’t bothered, judging by the sounds coming from the guest room in James’s house early this morning.

Meg smirks at her friend. “Come on, Lukas. It’s plenty deep. Besides, Duke, Micah, and I are all CPR and first aid certified.”

Luke doesn’t look reassured.

“I’ll go,” Zack says and, without hesitation, launches off the cliff, folding his body into an admirable cannonball.