“I…” I falter. “Yeah. I do. Another thing I just learned about myself.”

“You don’t usually ramble?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever gotten worked up before. At least not on my own account.”

“Want some ice cream? It’s right there.” He points to a well-lit stand with a giant person-size ice cream cone on the roof.

“You sure? Maybe you’re thinking you need an out after all that. I don’t mind. You just met me, and I got real strange real fast.” I close my eyes. “Go ahead and run. I’ll give you to the count of twenty.”

I feel his hand brush mine.

“Meg. Open your eyes.”

I do, tremulously, and find his are piercing. I concentrate very hard on not swooning. It is way too early to be swooning. I only started finding him attractive fifteen minutes ago when I met his dog.

“First of all, you are not a reflection of your parents’ bad choices.” The way he says it, with 150 percent sincerity, makes me think his words are weighted with something extra. “And second,” he says, smirking, “I owe two girls ice cream. What kind of monster reneges on ice cream?”

6

Micah

It’s Sunday, and I’m nowhere near a church. I’m fairly certain the general consensus surrounding my beliefs is that I’m agnostic—that I’m lost—that whatever happened with my dad crushed my faith and made me into an example of what happens when pastors’ kids are led astray.

Well, they’re wrong.

But I won’t go near a church. Or, rather, I refuse to go near the people who make up the church.

I don’t hate God. He didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t even hate my dad most days. He’s a fuckup, and I don’t ever want to see him again, but I can’t hate him. I tried. To be honest, I can’t muster any strong emotion when it comes to him.

But I might hate the church.

Again, not the building. The people. Specifically, the people who comprised our old church. My dad’s congregation. For all their talk of forgiveness and loving like Jesus, they sure had a fantastic time throwing my dad in jail and then shitting on his entire family. It’s not like we knew what he was doing. My mom married my dad when she was two months out of high school. My sisters and I were in junior high, for fuck’s sake. We were as blindsided as the rest. My mom spent an entire year barely eating, barely sleeping, barely speaking. My sisters crept into this bubble that was only the two of them and no one else. I lost everything. My dad was my best friend, pathetic as that seems now. After the scandal, it was like he was my only friend. No one wanted anything to do with us.