Forgetting that oddity almost as soon as I saw it, I said, “Does Kiera know what’s up? I mean, that I wanna get with her?”

“Not really. It’s shocking how oblivious she is about how many of you are unhealthily obsessed with her.” He leaned on the fence and stroked all three of his chin hairs, enjoying this. “I know because you’re just not very original.”

“What?” Were we about to fight? It felt like we should fight.

“You’re doing what everyone else is. The day after someone she thought she loved betrayed her. You want to get in on the ground floor when the building’s not open.”

“You a poet or something?”

“I dabble.”

Awesome analogies aside, I still had suspicions. “Why are you even talking to me right now?”

“Because I’ve seen you looking all enamored every Sunday. I know we don’t know each other like that, but you seem like a good enough dude. Someone should tell you you’re doing the most right now, and it’s not cute.”

“Maybe you’re saying all this so you can snake me. Knock out a contender.”

He laughed. Again. “Hardly. Living within one hundred feet of her for as long as I can remember inoculated me. Thank God. I’d hate being like the rest of you puppies nipping at her ankles. Plus, I don’t know how much of a contender you are, rocking a clip-on.”

My hand floated to my tie involuntarily. I forced it back down.

“Not to be all demanding,” Jameer said, “but I like my favors returned.”

“Favor? I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Be glad you didn’t have to. As I said, I’ll be collecting. Not sure what, yet. When I know, you’ll know.”

This guy. “I’m not promising you anything.”

“Reevaluate.” He approached a latched gate that opened on the church parking lot. “You’re in this Purity Pledge with us now. Maybe you can get to know her better, with some assistance. Though, considering the class, what you probably have in mind might be a bit counterproductive.” He shook his head and was gone.

I took the side entrance back into the church. The foyer was clear. The Westings had left. I felt deflated, my clothes suddenly baggy on me. Mom sat in our pew, patiently flipping through a packet of paper she didn’t have before.

“Here.” She thrust a folder the color of communion wine into my hands. “From Sister Vanessa. You’d run off, so she gave it to me.”

A white mail label affixed to it read: Purity Pledge Materials and Activities. Spreading the folder wide, I noticed the first page was a schedule. Assignments and due dates. “There’s homework?”

“Apparently. Y’all meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. I’m really proud of you. I had no clue this was a commitment you wanted to make.”

Yeah, Mom. Sometimes I even surprise myself.

Chapter 3

“YOU SORRY PIECE OF SH—” Dad clipped his profanity as we emerged from the garage into the kitchen, Mom leading me, shaking her head. A thick simmering beef-and-spice aroma clouded the air. Dad hunched over the slow cooker with the lid off, steam billowing up around his shaved face and head, making him look like a genie escaping a Crock-Pot. An angry genie, with a view of the football game playing on our living room TV.