“I have one question though,” Chloe says. “Isn’t Summer like… kinda Jesus-y?”
Georgia shrugs. “She goes to church with her family, yeah, but not in the Willowgrove way. She has her own deal.” She glances at Chloe. “Don’t be judgmental.”
“I’m not! But is… is that weird for you?”
“Not really? I mean, I grew up believing too. The last few years I wasn’t so sure, but… I know that Summer’s church is more into Jesus the brown socialist than the whole eternal damnation thing. And her parents have actually been really chill about her sister, so that’s cool.”
Chloe feels her eyebrows go up. “I didn’t know that variety of Christian existed in Alabama.”
“That’s because you’re not from here,” Georgia points out. “All you’ve ever known of Alabama is Willowgrove.”
“I—”
Well. It’s true. Willowgrove is the first time she’s been around Christianity, and so to her, that’s what faith is: judgmental, sanctimonious hypocrites hiding hate behind Bible verses, twenty-four-karat crucifix necklaces, and charismatic white pastors with all the horrible secrets that money can protect.
She’s never been to a church cookout or met a practicing Christian who was also gay. She’s never even stepped inside a church where she felt safe. Maybe if she had—maybe if her mom hadn’t been burned so bad that she never brought Chloe near Jesus until she absolutely had to—she’d feel different. At this point, she doesn’t know if she ever will.
But she also knows that Alabama is more than Willowgrove. And if that’s true, maybe faith can mean more than Willowgrove too.
Downstairs, the front door jingles open.
“Georgia?”
In a beam of afternoon sun stands Summer, still in her khaki uniform shorts and a softball T-shirt.
“Up here,” Georgia calls out, standing up to lean over the railing of the loft. “Hey, Summer.”
“Oh my God, are you okay?” Summer says. “I was looking everywhere for you, and then Shara told me she sent Chloe after you—”
Georgia rounds on Chloe. “Shara sent you?”
Chloe grits her teeth. “Technically?”
“We’re gonna discuss that.”
“What happened?” Summer asks.
Georgia turns back to her. “Chloe took the fall for me. Wheeler banned her from graduation.”
“Are you serious?” Summer says. Chloe shrugs. “Man, that dude sucks.”
The front door opens again, and this time it’s Benjy in his Sonic polo and visor speeding into the shop. He skids into the nearest table of books, topples a display of mystery novels, and shouts up to the loft, “What happened?”
Summer turns to him and says, “Chloe took the fall for Georgia so Wheeler banned her from graduation.”
“What?” Benjy gasps. “Also, hi, Summer, lots for you to catch me up on, but—what? Can he do that?”
“Wheeler can do pretty much whatever he wants,” Summer says.
“But—isn’t the church board in charge of him? Has anybody told them?”
“I really don’t think the Willowgrove church board is going to be that upset about this,” Summer says grimly. “If anything, they’ll be into it.”
The door bangs open, and Ash storms in.
“What happened?” they demand.
“Wheeler banned Chloe from graduation because he thinks she was the one making out with girls in the bathroom,” Benjy tells them.