“He said he didn’t think it was the sort of thing we should be learning about at school.” She moved on to refilling the salt and pepper packets bin.

I said, “Did you know the Healthy Living lessons and the Purity Pledge lessons are kind of, like, opposites?”

“That makes sense. He talked about it in the same sermon where he told the church not to let us take it. He’s part of the board that helps set the curriculum at the school.”

“Wait. What?” A civics class lesson came back to me in the moment. How our country was supposed to be big on keeping religion out of its many functions. Like education. It was a thing. My parents sometimes brought it up when they watched the news after dinner, and I said it the way they would. “What about separation of church and state?”

“This is Green Creek,” Mya said, as if we existed outside of the normal rules of America. “Pastor told us that impropriety had set in over the meetings and was influencing what the educators allowed into our classrooms, and no matter how much he fought, the school embraced an unholy spirit, or something.”

“Unholy spirit? That’s extreme. He really said that?”

Mya stopped filling her bin, a scowl twisting her face. “Del, you were there. It was the first Sunday you and your mom showed up at church. Do you really daydream that much? You don’t remember any of it?”

Welllll . . .

Mya said, “Yes. He really said that.”

“So, did he come up with Purity Pledge like counterprogramming? Something to fight Healthy Living?”

“I don’t know about that. He’s never mentioned the Pledge from the pulpit. At least not that I recall. It always seemed more Sister Vanessa’s thing.”

“What’s up with them? Their relationship seems weird.”

“She’s his niece. Pastor and First Lady Newsome raised Sister Vanessa.”

“First Lady Newsome.” I’d never heard about her before. “Where’s she?”

Mya got bashful, focused extra hard on the condiments in her hand. “She passed away last year.”

“Oh. I’m—I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“It did. Pastor didn’t preach for like a month after. The deacons just rotated, giving short sermons and letting us go home early. Then he came back, the church moved on.” The drive-thru buzzer sounded. Mya popped up, a fish-themed superhero ready to save some hungry stomachs. “Duty calls.”

I stored the condiment boxes, leaned on the counter almost hoping (praying?) for a customer so I had something to do. My phone buzzed again. I slipped it out and found another Jameer text.

Jameer: 5—What is the best way to watch porn without anyone knowing?

I said, “Are you serious?”

Tyrell, emerging from stealth mode, said, “Del.”

Scrambling, I went to slip my phone in my back pocket. I missed completely, and it clattered on the floor. Crap. “Tyrell, my bad, I—”

“You’re not supposed to have your phone out while on the floor. We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah, but there’s nobody—”