He ran to Ramsey’s ride, hopped in the passenger seat, and the two of them disappeared to wherever. Leaving me and Kiera alone.

“Well?” she said.

“We don’t have to walk this time.” I motioned to my car, dangled my keys. “We could listen to music. Or talk.”

She mulled it over. Each second feeling like a gut punch. Was it that hard to decide?

“Okay,” she said finally. “We can discuss what our presentation will look like.”

In the car, I turned to an old-school station. Smooth music my parents played when I was growing up, a quiet soundtrack. She didn’t seem eager to talk about our presentation, or anything. To break the awkwardness, I said, “I gotta ask, because I was super nervous when I saw her show up. What happened with you and Angie on the ride to CU?”

“We cleared some things up.”

“Should I stop prying?”

“No. Everyone else heard us, and I knew some of the truth already. There were still enough lies in the mix to make me want to be between the girls and Angie. She brought up Colossus. Said she wanted me to know nothing really happened between them. Though he did try.”

“You believe her?”

“Colossus tried stuff with other girls before. I didn’t do anything because I didn’t know how. I was taught to forgive.”

I’d heard that lesson, too. On more than a few Sundays.

“Finally, got tired. Just in time, I guess.”

I said, “He never deserved you.”

She got quiet again. The need to make the conversation continue, to crack a joke or ask a question, felt urgent. I fought it. Jaylan’s voice in my head. Do you spend much time listening to each other?

A couple of random turns, and an extra mile on my odometer later, she said, “Do you feel weird being in the pledge even though you’re not a virgin?”

It stunned me enough that I couldn’t respond quickly. She said, “I’m sorry. That’s a little too personal, isn’t it?”

“No,” I said, recovering, amazed at how me and Shianne’s lie still powered on. It was exhausting in ways, and I considered telling her the truth, right then and there, that we were both virgins.

Instead, “I feel like you can commit to purity at any time.”

It was something I regurgitated from one of Sister Vanessa’s lectures.

“You’re right. Of course,” Kiera said. “Do you ever feel tempted, though? Like maybe you can’t be pure, even if you promise?”

The endless repetition from our classes became my crutch. “I remind myself there’s something better waiting for me. With the right person.”

I waited for her to catch on and say the timing was finally right, that she was the right person, that she felt all I felt for her.

She didn’t.

Our small talk became stagnant. The drive aimless. She spent most of the ride staring at her phone, sending the occasional text. I got aggravated. It was kind of rude ignoring me like that.