17 again.

25

Fin

I was right, Cole and I did end up spending most of our time in the attic, although we definitely weren't talking. I'm not quite sure who leaned in first but one thing lead to another and soon enough I was straddling him in front of a box of old Christmas ornaments.

It's been a strange few weeks, okay? A nice kind of strange though.

"Boys are you still up there?" My mother knocked on the attic door. "We're about to start praying. Come down."

I rolled of him, almost knocking over a boxed nativity scene with a statue of what I think is Mary sticking out, leaving him to catch his breath on the floor. That's definitely an ego boost. "Coming Ma, we'll be down in a moment." I glanced at Cole, who was buttoning up the shirt I forced him into. It's probably the fanciest thing he'd worn in months, aside from that snooty party he went to few months ago.

He stood up, very nearly knocking his head against a low hanging wooden beam. "I can't believe you forced me into this." He tugged at his collar. "I miss my hoodies and t-shirts."

"You'd look out of place in them." I crouched down to open up the attic door. "Wait, I'll get this open in bit."

"Take you're time, I'm enjoying the view."

"Shut up." I said as my face burned with embarrassment.

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"...lord deliver us from the temptations of the world and the venom of non-believers, in Jesus name. Amen." Once she got a resounding amen in reply my mother opened her eyes, stood up and started dishing out lunch.

"'The venom of non-believers'? What am I, a snake?" Cole whispered in my ear from his seat on the armchair next to me.

"No worse, an atheist." I whispered back.

"With the way she's praying you'd think Charlotte's going to a university in the 7th circle of hell not L.A."

"They've heard to many stories of cities changing people." I rolled my eyes. "They have nothing to worry about. Charlotte may be nineteen but she has the morals of a 68 year old West-Barrow Baptist church member."

"As well as the attitude and sense of humor of one." He added before taking a swung of his soda. "How much longer before we can go back to the attic and make out some more."

"Let's grab something to eat first, then we can go back."

"Thanks, all the self-righteousness in this room is starting to suffocate me."

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"The attic's locked, someone else must have claimed it while we were gone."

"I can't go back in there, your uncle keeps trying to talk about basketball with me."

I cringed. "Oh God."

"Exactly. I swear he's one minute away from mentioning rap music or Obama."

"Which one are you talking about?"

"The one that thinks Judaism and Obamacare are part of a CIA conspiracy to jack up oil prices."

"That still only narrows it down to two."

"He's the one person in this damn house aside from me who isn't blonde or pale enough to serve as a twilight extra."

"Oh you mean Raphael. He means well... most of the time."

"So where are we going to 'talk'?" I could practically hear the quote marks in his voice. "Because I'm still curious to see whatever it is you were planning to do with your hands before we got interrupted."

"How about my room?"

"Perfect."

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Wow, these chapters really are getting short.

Anyway, I've got about five more chapters to go before this story ends.

- I. Tamilore Onkọwe

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