Nope. In the kitchen, I found Dad clutching the house phone, with his head bobbing, a fighter’s posture. He said, “There you are. Sit your ass down right now.”

The hell? Had Newsome called the house?

I did as told. When Mom stormed in and sensed trouble, she said, “What’s wrong? Is it Cressie?”

“Naw. She fine.” He aimed the phone at me like a gun. “Guess who I spoke to. Your boss at Monte FISHto’s. Mister Tyrell.”

My head dropped into my hands.

Dad told Mom, “He’s been trying to get Junior some shifts. Moneybags over here has been turning him down with no explanation. When he does show up, he’s goofing off and breaking rules so he has to get sent home early. Funny thing is I don’t recall Junior coming home early any of those days he was supposed to be working. Do you?”

“I. Do. Not,” Mom said.

With all the effort in the world, I lifted my chin, and looked my executioners in their eyes. “It’s not what you think.”

“It isn’t?” Dad said. “Because I’m thinking you’re in the streets doing dumb shit. Are you hustling?”

“No way, Dad. I know better.”

“But you have money?” Mom countered, their double-teaming masterful. “How?”

“Tutoring. Shianne Griffiths. Her dad’s been paying me to help her get caught up at school.” It was the half-lie me and Shianne agreed to, so I felt justified in arguing like it was absolutely true.

That righteousness was not good currency today.

Mom said, “So something else you decided to keep from us.”

Dad’s head wrenched her way. “What you mean?”

“Let me give you a little recap of church service this morning.”

Mom told him everything, with the added bonus of the huddled conversations after service. “The other parents tore me a new one. It’s not about him being this ringleader taking their kids across the state like a human trafficker. The whole Pledge has been canceled because of our son’s ‘corrupting influence.’”

Dad’s mouth twisted. “That’s ridiculous. They’re talking about him like he’s the damn devil. Though I guess that kind of exaggeration can be expected from folks like that.”

“Folks like who? Like me? Because I happen to think they’re correct to be upset that a good thing their children committed to has been upended by our son?”

“You mean the thing that’s a step above fitting those kids for chastity belts? I’m not saying Junior wasn’t wrong, but I think the kids will be all right not having to publicly profess their virginity, or however it works.”

“You’d know how it works if you stop turning your nose up at everything holy. Oh, wait. Only your opinion matters in this house, though. You know more right from wrong than Jesus Himself.”

What was happening here? Did they forget about me?

I stood, thinking this a good time to slip away.

“Sit yo ass down!” they said at the same time. If God ever spoke to me aloud, I imagined it’d sound like that.