In the medium-sized town of Trinity, Missouri, Christianity rules and dissenters face social death.
As you can imagine, Caleb Caron, an atheist with a foul vocabulary, is Trinity High School's pariah and his best friend, Nova Beauchêne, is a heretic...
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The bell rings, ending Biology.
As we get ready to leave for second period, Nova holds up a finger, signaling for me to wait for her.
"Ren!" She calls as he is walking out the door.
He turns toward her voice, his expression curious, yet somber.
"I know this is going to sound rude, but will you help me with the research or should I do it on my own?" She asks bluntly. I bite my lip to keep from snorting.
Nova pulls out a neatly folded piece of paper from the side pocket of her backpack to show him.
Damn, she's even getting out a list. She only makes those when she thinks she's going to have to carry the project.
I'm ashamed to admit that I've received a number of lists in the past.
"These are all the things we need to cover in our presentation," I hear her explain. "I can make you a copy if you want."
Ren peers at the organized document before shaking his head. He pulls out a journal from his half-unzipped backpack and flipping to the middle, shows her an extensive set of bullet points and words that I can barely read because his handwriting is so tiny.
"Oh..." Nova says, caught off guard. "Well, in that case, we need to meet as soon as possible to start working."
Ren bites his lip.
"How does tomorrow, 5PM at the library sound?"
He nods and walks away.
"What the hell?" I laugh, approaching Nova at the door frame.
"He's so...so...ethereal..." She murmurs.
"Ethereal?" I raise an eyebrow at her odd choice of vocabulary. "He's not a fucking fairy."
"Forget it. Now tell me what happened in class."
Her expression is stern, a look that makes me squirm. I literally tower over her in size, but she still scares me. Especially when she's got that face. "I can't do the project."
"Yeah, I gathered that much."
"Momma says she doesn't want me to 'stray' further from the Church's beliefs."
"Perhaps, a little late?"
"That's what I'm saying," I retort. "But she thinks it's just a phase."
Nova contemplates a moment before speaking. "But, why did you agree to listen to her?"
This was the part I didn't want to talk about.
"Caleb?"
"Yeah, yeah," I murmur, trying to figure out how to phrase it. "Um...Momma's gonna send me to Christian Boarding School if I don't start 'following' God soon."
"Wait, what?" She cries out. "You can't leave!"
"It's basically atheist conversion camp." I joke, cracking a weak smile.
She slaps my arm. "That's not funny, Caleb Caron!"
"Aww, someone's gonna miss me."
"Caleb," She huffs. "Please don't get yourself sent away."
I feel a twinge of guilt because I understand why she's so nervous.
I can't even imagine what I'd do if Nova moved.
Ever since kindergarten, when she pushed me into the sandbox for stealing her shovel, we've always been each other's only friend.
And by only, I do mean only.
Without Nova, I'm 85.43% certain I'd be the school's designated, reclusive atheist who wears the same black hoodie to school every day.
Then again, I already wear the same black hoodie every day. But that's not because I'm some sort of angsty teen. It's just that I...well, I don't know. But that's beside the point.
"I'll do my best," I promise.
...
Okay, so we're late to second period.
I convinced Nova to get cokes with me at the vending machine. Obviously, she protested but I was persistent.
And now we're on our way to English and the bell has already rung.
"Caleb!" She groans. "This is your fault!"
We run as fast as our heavyweight backpacks will permit, managing to speed to class before Mr. Pfeiffer closes the door.
As I toss my empty soda can into the trash bin adjacent to the doorway, I'm thankful we at least made it on time.
Because when Mr. Pfeiffer closes the door, you're not getting in.
I would know. Once, I decided to go to the bathroom before class started and the dumbass locked me out.
"Caleb," He says disdainfully. "And Nova..." He doesn't finish because he can't pronounce her last name and doesn't care to learn.
"Beauchêne," She finishes quietly.
"What was that?"
"My last name is Beauchêne."
"How'd you get a last name like that?" He scoffs, opening the door wider so we can enter.
Nova says nothing because she's a more respectable person than Mr. Pfeiffer. I hear a couple of snickers in the back of the class but when I glare at them, they fade away.
As we take our seats, I notice Nova is on her phone.
She never does that during class. She says it is, "Very disrespectful to a teacher who spends hours deliberating our lesson plans every week."
But something about Mr. Pfeiffer sets her off, and she's embarrassed, so she uses her phone as a coping mechanism.
As Mr. Pfeiffer is writing our lesson objectives on the Whiteboard, I send Nova a text.
Me: hey, get off your phone
Nova: That's ironic, coming from you.
Me: fuck mr. pfeiffer. he doesn't deserve your tears. now get off your phone. it's unlike you.
She turns to shake her head at me, but she's smiling. I motion at her backpack and she drops her phone in it.
I give a thumbs up.
"Pay attention in class," She hisses, smirking and returning her attention to our terrible English teacher.
P.S. Sorry about the bad Photoshop in the picture above. 😂😂
