What You Thought You Knew [girlxgirl]

(ch. 6) How Much Do You Want Me?

Jordan

They know. I know they know something's up.

I can already feel their judgment on me.

I sat in the pew of my local church, sweat made my dress cling to my back as I sat next to my friend Que and her family in the front pew. Que's father was the pastor of the church; my dad was the deacon.

"Today" he said "We are gonna be talkin' bout the Pharisees in the bible who wanted to stone a prostitute woman yes, she was a sinner yes, she was. She slept around with a-ah-ah buncha people and now she realizes that she needs forgiveness." I always held in a laugh when Pastor Brown did his "pastoral stutter" while he preached.

"Jesus said" he continued "'let he who is without sin, cast the first stone'. None of the Pharisees could touch her; they each left my one by one, from youngest to oldest. Now ain't that a-ah-ah blessing to have Jesus protecting you, shielding you in front of your enemies? He protects you every day..." I began to zone out; there was nothing about the bible that I haven't heard before.

I was nothing like my parents, I was an atheist and I didn't really like church. The church was nothing but a building full of fake people. They act one way while they were in church then one way when they were out of church, or at least that's what I did. In church I was the lovely little girl who never did anything wrong, outside of church I was the total opposite.

After church, I was quiet. Ever since the kiss with Jordan, me and my church 'friends' have noticed that I have been a lot more quiet.

"Hey baby" Mrs. Pastor Brown said slipping next to me in the front pew "I wanted to talk to you"

Shit.

Often enough I would have these talks with her. I feel like I'm a target for her. For example, when I sing in the choir (I'm forced to) I feel like Mrs. Pastor Brown aims her prayers at me. She would say prayers with words along the lines of "Oh God we love you...Oh God we love your presence...We lift our hands in praise to you oh God...Come on lift your voices and worship Him with your heavenly language"

I can't speak in tongues, I hate raising my hands in church (i have weird discoloration under my arms), and I don't 'love God's presence'; I don't even feel it. When I don't do any of the stuff she says she then looks at me for a brief second then repeats herself. I swear when that happens, she is one hand raise away from calling me out by name in the middle of service and telling me to raise my hands. I'm not lying, she's done it before.

I feel like Mrs. Pastor Brown has a certain ritual when it comes to church. If you don't follow the ritual then she spots you and tries to talk to you about it after services as you can see.

"Hey Pastor Brown" I said giving her a polite smile.

"Um, how have you been doing baby?" she asked with slight worry in her eyes.

"Fine" I told her before mentally kicking myself in the shin. 'Fine' is the one answer that adults are told that means everything but fine.

"Yeah? Well I just wanted to check up on you because well, you seem... different" she said "You seem to have changed out of a spirit of some sort of trauma."

"No I'm fine, really" I told her doing my best to be convincing. I was okay. It was just that being in the church made me feel guilty. Being in this place made me feel like such a...sinner.

"Do you know Sara Mccurdy?" she asked me. I knew of her, I didn't know her personally.

I nodded.

"She used to look sad all of the time. People always used to ask her why she always looked so sad...when you get a chance, ask her what her testimony is."