“Well, give me a call in the morning if you decide to, okay?”
“I . . . I’ve got church,” protested Heather.
“Oh, that’s right,” came the reply with a faint note of displeasure in her tone.
“Do you want to come?” Heather ventured. “It’s fun and. . . .” Her voice trailed off. She suddenly felt very hypocritical in even offering, given where they had been that night. She had wanted to say that she always found something good in the worship time and the message the pastor shared usually touched her heart.
“I don’t think so,” Jillian answered. “We were on the way to some real fun tonight . . . ’til my brother decided to meddle. Well, when you’re done with your church thing, you can come over if you want. That is, if you’re not going to be too holy and stuff. I gotta go now. Bye.”
“Bye,” Heather replied weakly and turned the phone off. Her mother was standing behind her and put her hand on Heather’s shoulder.
“What was all that about?” she asked as Heather turned to look into her eyes.
“I don’t understand, Mom,” she said.
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