I still feel uncertain, and part of me might always think that this is Clem choosing Hannah over me, but no matter why she’s going or what I think, I have to let her go. I have to try.

Twenty-Three

“Can you please explain how exactly you got us all volunteering at a church?” Amanda asks Hannah as she slurps a hunk of cheese off the tip of her pizza. “Did Millie possess your body in your sleep?”

All seven of us sit on the steps of the chapel with two extra-large boxes of pizza and cups of lemonade like Sheila promised.

Hannah shrugs. “Me, Bekah, Tucker, and Waylon need the volunteer hours for prom court.”

“Well, sure,” I say, “but that doesn’t explain how exactly this happened. Honestly, I didn’t realize there were enough gay kids in Clover City for there to even be a need for some kind of parental support group.”

“You’d be surprised,” Hannah says, and bites down into her slice.

We all stare at her, waiting for her to finish that thought.

“Oh, fine,” she says as though it’s such a pain for her to say more than six words at a time. “Rich and Sheila took me in when ’Lita kicked me out.”

“What?” I ask, completely shocked. I’ve only met Hannah’s grandma once or twice, but she always seems so proud of Hannah.

“The summer before ninth grade,” she confirms.

“But your grandma is so cool,” Amanda says. “Why would she do that?”

Hannah looks to Clem, and I get the feeling this isn’t a story she freely shares often. “I never came out to my ’lita. She caught me kissing my cousin’s friend the summer before ninth grade. She went weeks without even making eye contact with me. When I tried to talk about it, she’d start praying, like directly at me, like I was some kind of demonic force. It was terrifying, in a way. I felt like somehow I’d become the monster in the story without even realizing it. Her pastor told her I was an abomination and she told me I had to go to church camp or get out.”

Clem grips Hannah’s knee. “I wouldn’t call that place church camp.”

My jaw drops. “Your grandma tried to send you to a pray-away-the-gay camp? Oh my God, Hannah, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t go.” Hannah laughs bitterly. “Rich and Sheila were always a little nosy. Honestly, it kind of annoyed me sometimes. These dopey-ass neighbors next door always in our business. But when Sheila saw me crying on the front porch, she invited me over for some lemonade and then that turned into an offer to let me stay in their guest room.”

“Wow,” says Bekah with a drawl, her bright-blue eyes round and wide. “That breaks my heart.”