Hand In Hand: A Pride Month Anthology

Still Counting

"I really don't know what you're doing here," I told Kaylee as we stood in front of a church-my church-facing the parking lot. I belonged here, sort of. She didn't at all.

"I really don't know what you're doing here," Kaylee shot back.

I sighed. I wanted her to go away. My life away from church was supposed to stay separate from church. It was safer that way. But Kaylee just had to be one of those friends who cared about my mental well-being, and she had to show up to play therapist or counselor or whatever she was trying to do. I had been perfectly fine with breaking down in silence. Alone.

"You don't even want to be here, but you show up every week anyway," Kaylee continued. "And then you text me the whole time complaining about how you have to be here. I wanted to see what was up with that. So I got Hyatt to bring me."

That was the most unbelievable thing. Kaylee had somehow convinced Hyatt, my traitor older brother who never woke up before noon, to drive her here on a Sunday morning.

"You should leave," I said gently, refusing to sound angry. I was annoyed, but I couldn't show it. "I'll bring you back another time."

I wouldn't.

Kaylee shook her head. "I want to find out what made Hyatt leave and what's making you stay. Your church doesn't sound like other churches I've been to."

I shrugged. "It's probably not different. I don't know about Hyatt, though. He works on Sundays now."

Hyatt used to try really hard to be a good church kid, but he gave up on that years ago when he decided that there was no point in the whole organized religion thing. Our parents hadn't been happy about him cutting all ties with our church, but there wasn't anything they could do other than force him to make his appearance a couple times a year on Christmas and Easter.

Kaylee had a point, though. I hated this church, yet I couldn't bring myself to leave like Hyatt had. The church had hurt me more than I had let anyone know, and I was still doing this to myself.

"Let's go," Kaylee said, grabbing my sweaty hand, not seeming to sense that it made me even more uncomfortable. "We're already a few minutes late."

"Don't you have anything better to do on the day before the first day of school?" I asked.

Kaylee rolled her eyes, opened the door, and pulled me inside.

We were greeted by a blast of air conditioning. There was no one around, but I could hear the faint sound of people singing. Being here felt wrong, more wrong than usual. And, if I was being completely honest, I was scared.

It wasn't that I didn't trust Kaylee to keep her mouth shut. She knew how delicate the situation was-maybe not to its full extent-but she had an idea. She knew enough to tear my life to pieces, which was not ideal because I had just spent months rebuilding it.

Kaylee followed me to the high school Bible study room, which was the place that teenagers gathered every Sunday morning before the whole church routine began. At approximately 9:30 AM, Pastor Gerald would stand at the front of the room and ask for prayer requests. Every time someone gave one, another person would volunteer to pray about it. If no one volunteered, the room would sit in an awkward silence until the Pastor Gerald singled someone out. Then, the requests would be addressed one by one in a group prayer, which was what they appeared to be doing now. For everyone who didn't have to pray out loud, this was a time to relax. I had gotten away with taking naps plenty of times because some people liked to go on for forever.

"Should we wait to go in?" Kaylee whispered.

I nodded. If we went inside now, some people would hear it and open their eyes. I didn't need extra attention right now. Or ever.