Page 59 of Anchored to the Storm

“Put on the dress,” growled Seb.

Taking the ‘dress’ off the hanger, I corrected, “Technically, it’s a choir robe.”

“Whatever. Put it on.” Sebastian’s grin sent chills through my soul. “Don’t want to make the pastor look bad, do we?”

Oh shit.

Quickly dressing, I mumbled, “Dale is going to kill us.”

Finn slipped the robe over his head. “Better than you-know-who tonight.”

Dressed and looking ridiculous, the Misfits morphed into Sinners again and filed in line to make a fuckery of the pastor.

It was a horrible idea. It was going to steal attention away from Blue’s service. One she deserved, in the most pitiful way imaginable.

With each step down the hallway, I think we all came to the same decision. We kept catching each other’s silent apologies for losing our minds. Reading each other, easily, we all nodded and tried to step out of line, but the man was having none of it, ushering us through the doorway and into the sanctuary.

Sorry, Jesus.

Before I knew it, we were walking up a set of steps to a platform in front of a huge crowd.

I heard Ethan bitch to Finn, “You just stepped on my dress.”

Or choir robe.

“Sorry,” replied Finn, who was in a robe about seven inches too short. His clunky sneakers were visible for all attendees to see.

My robe was the opposite. So long that I tripped on the last step and fell into Finn’s back. Which, of course, threw him into Ethan, who bitched again, “Are you fucking serious?”

Instead of apologizing, I corrected, “Technically, you shouldn’t cuss in church.”

“Fuck you,” mumbled Ethan.

Luckily, there was music playing, so no one in the audience could hear any of this train wreck, but the other choir boys were certainly suspecting we didn’t belong. As did Dale when I caught him staring at us, his jaw in his lap.

Oops!

Not that there wasn’t more for him to see. The music started, and so did the true choir boys’ movements, stepping side to side.

Did the Misfits join, accordingly?

Not so much.

We bumped into one another like balls in a ping-pong machine gone wild. I stepped on Finn’s foot. He stepped on Ethan’s, who in turn got flustered and shoved Finn into one of the choir boys, who shot us all a frustrated look.

Ethan would have had more to say if it wasn’t now time to sing a song we didn’t know. His eyes widened as if just now realizing the shit-show we’d landed ourselves in.

Nothing else to do, we all faced forward and started moving our mouths like chewing on gum that never existed. Yes, with scars, a few cheap tattoos, the gunmetal gauges in my ears, and longer hair than any choir boy is probably allowed, these Misfits were no fit, in the slightest.

In the pews, where we should’ve been, Harmony was grabbing her chest, and Sarah was covering her mouth. No doubt, both in utter disbelief.

Mercifully, we survived. At least, for the time being. Once the pastor grandly reappeared at the original entrance of the church, arms wide, loudly announcing he would ‘lead his sheep’ outside for the candlelight ceremony, Finn had to put Seb in a chokehold and drag him behind the other choir boys.

They eyed the not-so-church-like action but continued with what they had rehearsed, following in a single-file line off the stage. Gage and I stayed toward the back of the line with Finn and Seb, hoping we could help de-escalate the situation.

With the church now mostly emptied—all remaining churchgoers facing the door—and time for us to descend the stairs, Ethan slid the portrait under his robe as if there was nothing to see. To Seb, he whispered, “I got your girl. Now chill.”

It was so hard to watch Sebastian so torn up inside. Since Blue’s passing, he would be calm one minute, then demonic the next. It was as if multiple wars battled inside his body.