Sister Vanessa said, “Hey everybody, take a moment to hang your collages. We’ll keep them up for the rest of our sessions as reminders of how we recognize the pure.”

Kiera retrieved a tape dispenser from Sister Vanessa’s other supplies and began rolling short strips into sticky loops for her girls. That’s how I thought of them now, her girls.

Jameer saw me watching, as if daring me to critique his art.

Patiently, I waited for my turn with the tape.

When all the collages were hung, Sister Vanessa ended the session with a prayer of her own, dismissed us, then stepped into the hall to speak with Pastor Newsome. The girls hustled out of the room in a tight, Kiera-led huddle while me and the other guys gathered our things with sloth-like cool. Ralph and Bobby chatted about chores they needed to do after dinner as they exited the room. Jameer stared at me.

“You know that’s super annoying,” I said.

I figured he was tense over the way Pastor Newsome played him in front of everyone (and used me to do it). I figured whatever came next would be about that.

He said, “You’re taking Healthy Living at school, right?”

Now that was unexpected. “Yeah. Sure.”

He checked over his shoulder, a schemer’s glint in his eye. “You know nobody else in here is allowed to take it.”

“Why?”

“You still cool giving me a ride home?”

Dude apparently could not answer a question straight. “Fine. Whatever.”

We stepped into the corridor together, and Jameer said, “Bye, Sister Vanessa.”

She was so deep into her conversation with Pastor Newsome, her hands moving around, explaining . . . something, I don’t think she heard him at all.

On the church steps, the Purity Pledgers waited on their rides. It was one of those springtime-warm nights that was very Virginia because it was actually fall and it had been ten degrees cooler two hours ago. If not for the sky darkening to purple when it was barely five p.m., we could’ve been in mid-May. Kiera noticed Jameer walking with me. Her classroom scowl returned.

“Jameer, my dad’ll be here in ten minutes,” she said.

“Tell him I’m okay tonight. I’m riding with Del.”

“You’re sure?”

It wasn’t an upbeat “You’re sure?” Oh no. It was someone about to stick their hand in a porta potty to fish out some loose change. Like, You’re sure you want to do that, because I wouldn’t.

That “you’re sure” had me doing something I never thought possible in all my Kiera fantasies. I scowled back. “Chill. I got him covered. Thanks for your concern.”

Maybe I did more than scowl, and maybe I was louder than I thought. Because everyone turned my way, meerkat-style. Mya mouthed the word Dude.

Then, I was locked in a staring contest with Kiera.

She broke from her troop, came straight at me. Angry, aggressive. “Can I talk to you?” She clamped her teeth together after she spoke.

“Yeah. Whatever.” I bristled.