Dylan stills, her hand lingering over the tray. She sets down the package of cookies and turns toward Hadley. I can’t tell if her smile is genuine or not, but her eyes definitely look cold.
“Hadley, it’s so nice for you to join us.”
“Thanks. I like your church.”
“Of course you do,” Dylan mumbles as she turns back to the cookies.
Hadley lets go of my hand and starts unwrapping a pack of cookies. Dylan looks at her out of the corner of her eye, but doesn’t stop her. Maybe if I leave them, they can talk and Dylan can go back to being Hadley’s number one fan.
I step away and go set up the coffee. As much as I’d like to stay and listen to what they’re talking about, I’d like Dylan to go back to liking Hadley. I’m still not sure what Dylan’s problem is. I wish someone would tell me though, because I miss my friend and don’t really like being on the receiving end of her dirty looks and angry outbursts.
I sneak glances at Dylan and Hadley every few moments. They seem to be chatting and Dylan smiles a few times. My mom joins them and laughter ensues. I’m a bit jealous that I’m missing what’s so funny, but I have feeling I’m the cause of Dylan’s anger so it’s probably best that I stay away. Even if that means I’m missing Hadley.
Reverend Monroe comes over, slapping me on the shoulder.
“Coffee, sir?”
“If you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a cup.”
I press down on the pump, watching the hot liquid fill the Styrofoam cup. I can’t stand the smell of coffee and don’t know how people stomach it. Dylan loads hers full of sugar, not sure why she just doesn’t eat a candy bar. I hand the Reverend his cup and pretend to be interested in the packets of sugar. I don’t know why he’s lingering, I hope that mom didn’t ask him to talk to me. I mean, if she’s worried about me doing something with Hadley, she shouldn’t be. Hadley won’t let me even touch her like I want to.
Never have I thought about being with a girl before until Hadley and now I can’t stop thinking about it.
“Did you learn anything from today’s sermon?” he asks.
Yes. I learned that I want to find out what my girl tastes like thanks to your sermon about sweet and sinful desire, I want to say, but I don’t.
“Yes, sir,” I reply without making eye contact. If I look at him, he’ll see right through me. I peek over his shoulder, looking for Hadley. She’s with my mom, talking with others. Reverend Monroe looks behind him and smirks.
“That’s exactly what I was talking about. Young men like yourself getting involved with the poisoned apple.”
I look at him, confused. What’s he talking about, poisoned apple?
“I’m sorry?” I ask, this time making eye contact. I want to see him when he tells me that Hadley is poison and that I have to stay away from her.
“Just saying that girls like her, they are poison. They lure you to their wells only to drown
you when they’re done with you.”
I scratch the back of head, wondering what the hell he’s talking about. I don’t remember him saying any of this stuff. Maybe I zoned out more than I thought I did. I don’t know, but he isn’t making any sense. Hadley isn’t poison. She’s far from it.
“Um… I think I’m going to go –”
He steps closer, leaning in. “Your father knows about your little friend. It might be best for both of you if you cut your ties before things become too complicated.”
I step back and look at him. He raises his eyebrow before he turns, walking away. I’m left standing, rooted as if my feet were buried in cement. I don’t like the idea of my dad knowing about Hadley. Nor do I care much for the subtle message that Reverend Monroe just gave me.
I need to talk to my mom, find out what she knows. I don’t want my father talking to Hadley or knowing anything about her. I’m not ashamed of Hadley, just afraid of my father and what he might do.
I look over to where mom and Hadley are standing, only to see Hadley stalking toward me. Her eyes are pinched, her mouth in a straight line. I’ve never seen an angry Hadley, but I have a feeling this might be it.
“We need to talk,” she says as she walks by me. I have no option but to follow. I’m a few steps behind her as she stomps up the steps. She pushes the door, hard. It hits against the outside wall and bounces back in time for me to stop it with my hand before it hits me in the face.
I follow her to her car. The driver is resting against the side, trying to look nonchalant against this blacked-out car. He looks up when he sees us coming and opens the back door. She slides in. I hesitate until I hear her sigh loudly. The door slams just as I sit down. Good thing I moved my leg in time. I reach for her hand, only to have her pull away. I knew a relationship like this wasn’t going to last. She realized today, being with my mother and meeting the parishioners that she can do so much better.
“Do you have something to tell me?”
I look at her, confused, and shake my head.