MEG: VADA.

MEG: Oh my gosh WOMAN WHERE ARE YOU.

MEG: I AM HAVING A MOMENT.

MEG: Okay, fine. I’ll be here, dying because a boy kissed me and I kissed him and he is very handsome and has real live pectoral muscles and tell Luke to stop macking on you for one stupid minute so I can freak out about it for the love of …

VADA: Holy Jesus I’m here. Reading back. Slow your roll.

MEG: Thank you. Jeesh. I’m having an existential crisis here.

VADA: Hold on. How do you know about his rippling pectorals? You move fast!

MEG: They actually *do* ripple. But I only know because of cliff jumping. I don’t move that fast.

VADA: But you kissed! You kissed him! Your first kiss! You utter badass. I can’t believe you waited to do all this when I am on the other side of the country and can’t hug you!

MEG: Ann Arbor didn’t have Micah.

VADA: Apparently not. So how was it?

MEG: *swoons* The sweetest.

VADA: Sure. But like, was there tongue?

MEG: No.

VADA: Bet you wanted there to be.

MEG: MAYBE.

VADA: Next time?

MEG: He’s moving slow. For me. Which is very, very appreciated. But also, HOW DO I MAKE HIM FRENCH ME?

VADA: *snickers* Luke is reading over my shoulder and said (and I quote): “Just slip it in, Hennessey.”

MEG: Oh my gosh. I don’t know if I can do that. What if he doesn’t want me to?

VADA: This is Luke: HE WANTS YOU TO I PROMISE.

MEG: Hello Lukas, I miss you. But for real, what if I suck?

VADA: (still Luke) It’s not possible. But you could always ask him to teach you. I had to teach Vada and look how that turned out.

VADA: LUKAS AARON GREENLY YOU BIG FAT LIAR.

MEG: Ohhh kay. Settle down, guys. I have to go. I’ll call later.

VADA: You’d better facetime. I miss your face.

MEG: Deal, babe.

James and I are early for church the following day, and I’m a nervous wreck. I wasn’t ready to go to church yet. For lots of reasons, but mostly because I’m not interested in exploring this new caustic relationship I have with the institution. Which is bananas, because I have never once in my life been anything but comfortable walking into a house of God. Call it my heterosexual white girl privilege (I do), but I’ve never had a reason to feel like I didn’t belong.

Truth is, it’s because I’ve never done anything wrong. At least biblically. I mean, sure I’ve sinned. That itty-bitty menial white-lie kind of sin. Like that one time I told Vada I hated Fleetwood Mac, too, so I didn’t have to hear why Stevie Nicks sounds like a chain-smoker for the one millionth time.