Different colored minds

Dresscode

PAMELA POV

I wake up, roll over and grab my phone.
I scroll through my contacts to find Joe. And I press dial.
It rings twice and then a sleepy voice answers.
"Morning," His voice is low and sexy.
"Morning, ready for church?"
"Um, who may I ask is speaking?" I hear him mumble on the other end.
"My name is Pam, not sure we've met yet."
there's a shuffle on the other side of the phone.
"Oh um, I, you called, you hadn't tried calling yet."
"It's okay," I can't help but chuckle, he's so cute.
"Drop me the address for church, I'll see you there," and then I hang up before he could say another word.
I run down the stares, a pair of holey jeans and a baggy shirt on.
"How are you feeling?" My parents are at the counter talking with two cups of coffee.
"Um... I'm going to church, so I guess good," they both look at me, then look down at my jeans.
"Baby you can't go to church with holes in your jeans,"
"My friend is transgender and she's coming, I figure if she can come as she is, so can I," and with that I stuff a piece of toast in my mouth and run out of the door. Their jaws are on the floor. I know it. They haven't found a church they like in the states, honestly it's just hard when you can't go to Spanish church. I don't know any of the English songs. People don't sing to Jesus the same way here. And they don't sing my favorite songs. The only good thing is at least they speak in English at the pulpit. But then again, over time, I miss the sound of spanish at the pulpit. I miss their fire. And I miss feeling so full on nothing but the presence of God, and coming as I am instead of what everyone else thinks I should be. I miss having absolutely nothing, and going to church with nothing but open hands and a dime to throw into the offering plate. I miss Ecuador. But at least I can keep God with me.

The drive is long but it's good, I'm ready to get there. I'm ready to be with my school.