Page 51

“To be honest, I don’t know, Drew. I mean, of course, I believe in God, and Holy Trinity has the same values as I do for the most part. I should enjoy going there, truly. Usually, I love going to church. It’s my safe space outside of my art. I don’t know what’s different. I don’t know what changed.”

I conveniently leave out the part where I came to the realization, after sitting up for countless hours a night, that she’s what changed.

She’s the reason I’m questioning my values now.

Instead, I offer the faintest mumble.

“I think I’d like it to.”

17

Drew

Iwould consider myself an empath. I understand where

Laine is coming from in the sense that Holy Trinity gives her a chance to redeem herself on her dad’s behalf. To follow the same path but change the narrative.

She wants that. She wants to be nothing like him. But she isn’t. Religion or not, I know she isn’t anything like him. She’s scared that having his blood in her veins makes her all the more likely to become destined for the same fate, but she’s stronger than he was, and she’s stubborn as hell.

Even if it was some sort of… temptation? Whatever compelled her dad to go down that path won’t get to her. I know it. I need to make sure she knows it.

I pick up my phone and call her. I don’t know exactly what I would say, which scares me because we had such a good night—or at least felt like it to me—at the playground, and I don’t want to push her further away.

I need to be calculated with this. I need to reassure her that I see her. Reallyseeher, without criticizing her coping methods, which is clearly what this is. Maybe I’m overthinking this. Or maybe overthinking this allows me to underthink my issues with my own dad. Either way, this is a message Laine needs to hear.

The line picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” I start. “I’ve been thinking about something

you said. At the playground?”

There’s a pause.

“Mhm.” Laine’s voice sounds groggy, like she’s just

woken up, even though it’s mid-afternoon.

“Well, I just wanted you to know that I think you’re a

good person. A very strong, independently-willed person.” “Drew… Where is this coming from?”

I can almost hear how disheveled she looks through

the phone. I can picture her hair messily tied up and her

long fingers stained with paint as always.

I stumble on my words. “I- I don’t know. I just wanted

you to know that. I see you for who you truly are, Laine,

and that person is capable of so much more than your dad

was ever destined for. You don’t need to be all tangled up

in a church you don’t like in order to be a good person.” I sense it click in her hard head over the phone, what