Unlikely ✓

Six: Sunday Morning Surprise

POV: Nathan Westmore

Sunday's were a blur half of the time.  Some people slept in or went out to get breakfast with their family.  Some people worked or got done the things they had been putting off during the busy week.

I, on the other hand, had to get up early, go for a run, then shower quickly, and be dressed and in the car by the time my mother was ready to leave.

We normally took two cars to church, my dad went an hour ahead of us and worked on his churchy stuff as I liked to call it.  I would always wait till my mom left then at least it gave me a bit more time to sleep.

I just came back from one of the more pointless runs in my life.  Running was supposed to help with anxiety and to clear people's minds, yet it never did for me.

Not when I had to force myself to run around the block a few times.  When I was on the field that was a different thing.  When I was on the field I had adrenaline in my veins when I was on the sidewalk I just had annoyance in my veins.

"Five minutes, Nathan!"  My mom yelled from downstairs.

Quickly I made sure I had my phone and wallet before rushing out to the car five minutes really just meant she was leaving and I had a few seconds to get my butt to the car.

It wasn't that I disliked church, despite growing up with the same religion as my family I didn't feel like it was pushed onto me like it was for some people.  I just didn't like going to church most of the time, it didn't make me any less of a person either.  But as the preacher's son, it was kinda weird for me not to show up.

Mandy was really the only one I talked to when I was there—sometimes Jax when he decided to show up, which was only when he felt like it or his parents were in town.  And Misty wasn't Christian so she only showed up near Christmas when she could steal cookies while singing her favorite holiday songs—inappropriate editions.

The church was small but not overly so.  There was a basement with a kitchen and rooms for kids of different ages to be watched if they were too young to behave in the pews or if the parents wanted an hour away from the ankle biters.

But the most memorable thing about the church was the stained glass.  There were vibrant colors of different parts of the bible.  Even someone who wasn't religious could find the beauty in the detail of it.

It was always so mesmerizing to look at when the sun shined in on it painting marks of color on the walls and floor during the sunrises.

When I walked in I began the rest of my Sunday morning routine.  I helped Mandy place all the bibles in the back of the pews along with the pens for checks or prayer requests—or for kids to color with sometimes.

"Stop looking so dam—dang glum, this is our senior year.  It's like we are the 'royalty' of the school now," Mandy chuckled, mocking some of the seniors who thought they were untouchable because it was their last year of high school.  "You need to see the positives—"

I cut her off.  It was all morning listening to her talk about whatever she had on her mind, it wasn't that I minded that it was just—every time she would pause I thought about telling l her what I was thinking.  Which was so aggravating.

I also thanked God that there was no one else in the room whenever I stupidly—yet finally blurted out the thought that was definitely meant to be an internal thought and not something to just blurt out in front of even my bestest of best friend while she was trying to give me a pep talk.

"I think I'm gay."

I covered my mouth as if it would cover up the fact I spoke my mind out loud.