“Thank you for helping me,” Teresa says. And she is weirdly peaceful now, which is almost as unsettling as her excitement. Or her sobbing. I realize now that none of Teresa’s feelings ever seem to fit the situation. That’s what makes them so uncomfortable.

“No problem,” I say. “What happened? I mean, why were you so upset out there?”

“I spoke to my pastor on the phone.”

She was allowed to call her pastor? I think, but try to stay focused.

“And he made you cry?”

She shakes her head. “He’s not like that. That’s why I started going to meetings instead of my grandmother’s church. He’s more progressive. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, though. Some sins you can’t make up for.”

This sadness is real and, for the first time, crystal clear. And it runs so deep that it makes my chest ache.

“What sins?” I ask. After her grandmother’s six-minute rule. It’s hard not to feel like she’s exaggerating about what kinds of things she might have done wrong.

“Boys. Most of them I didn’t even know.” She glances over at me, and I try not to twitch. Sex? I didn’t see that coming. But it could explain some of her jumpy, chaotic feelings. Maybe she’s pushed some secrets so far down that when they pop back up, they spray out like fireworks. “One time, I even hitchhiked to a rest stop and let this one old guy pay me. I don’t even know why.” She takes a breath, and this time when she exhales her whole body sags. “I felt so bad all the time about myself even before that. Doing terrible things just gave me something specific to hate myself for.”

“People make mistakes,” I manage, grabbing out of thin air Jasper’s words to me all those weeks ago. But I need to say something more. The thing they all need to know, but right now Teresa especially. “Also, I think there’s a chance that all of us here—that we’re extra sensitive to other people’s feelings. My dad researches it. Anyway, that could be part of why you felt bad about yourself.”

I wait for the onslaught of questions. What do you mean, extra sensitive? What research? Instead, I feel a new wave of peace when she smiles at me. And then sympathy—for me. Like I am even more deserving of pity than her. It makes me super uncomfortable. Teresa reaches up and takes off her necklace.