“Do you think the people at church will judge me when I start to show?” She smooths a hand down her flat stomach.
My insides twist thinking of the potential rejection Fran will face. “If they do, that’s their issue and not yours.”
Fran sighs. “IknowI was wrong. I shouldn’t have slept with Derrick since we’re not married.”
“Even though you did wrong, it doesn’t give them the right to also do wrong and judge you. Instead, they should come alongside you and help you where needed.” That’s what I want to do. I’m sad Fran broke our sister vow to wait until marriage, but I’m not about to crucify her. How can I when I’ve been walking around with my own secrets, my own wrongs?
We finish our breakfast right when Jackie texts that she’s waiting outside. I wait until Fran locks the door, then loop my arm with hers.
“Nervous?” I ask.
“No. You?”
I think a moment. “Strangely, no.”
“Then let’s do this.”
19
Jabari
It’s a good thing we’re required to wear suits on game days because I have plenty to pick from to wear to church. Mom insisted I wear one instead of the pair of khakis and polo I’d prefer. Of course it helps that I wonder if Val would find me attractive in a suit. Though she may feel more relaxed around me and not pressured to look her best, I don’t feel the same ease.
My lack of 20/20 makes me want to try harder in the looks department, so I do. My goatee feels a little scraggly, but Mom can trim the hair easily and not do a butcher job. After all, she’s the one who cut my hair growing up. She couldn’t afford the barber and now handles a pair of clippers better than me.
I head to her room, clippers in hand. “Would you mind trimming my goatee?”
“Sure. What about the other scruff growing on your face?”
“You might need a razor for that.”
I need to stop being a chicken and just shave by feel. All the years I’ve maintained a goatee and shaved everything else has to have accumulated some muscle memory, right?
She places a towel around my neck, then trims until she pronounces me “handsome.”
I go back to my room and don my favorite blue suit and a pale pink tie.
“Oh, that’s a fantastic suit,” Mom says when I meet her in the hallway.
“You think?” My neck heats up.
“Val will love it.”
It’s like she can read my mind, or is she merely plotting?Mothers.
By the time we get in the car, my stomach feels like it did right after my concussion. I don’t know if I should ask my driver for a motion sickness bag or chalk it up to nerves.
Why are you nervous?
It’s not like I’ve never stepped foot in a church before. I’ve been to weddings, but we never attended when I was young. Mom believes in God but doesn’t see attendance as necessary. And me, well, I definitely don’t think church is necessary. You either live a moral life or you don’t. You don’t need to believe in some unknown deity in order to make that decision.
Yet my mind recalls how often Javier has prayed for me. Other guys on the team are Christians as well, and if I admit it, their lives do seem different. Just not in a way I can point out. I hold back a sigh and stare vacantly out the window.
“Will we be sitting with Val?” Mom asks.
“Um, no.” I clear my throat. “Her family doesn’t know we’re friends.”
“Why not?” Shock fills her voice.
