The rest of my week was strangely relaxing, at least when I ignored the thoughts swirling in the back of my head.
Iâd strangely felt full after my long talk with Amber on Wednesday, despite the fact that the most weâd done physically was hug a couple of times, meaning I wouldnât need to feed again until next week.
Or, if I kept hanging out with Amber, even later. We met up a couple of times before Sunday, hanging out as friends, talking about our classes and social lives, and each time she left, I felt a bit fuller of energy, but starkly alone in her absence. It was a strange feeling, not something Iâd felt with her when we were dating.
Eventually, I had to face reality. That time came Sunday morning, when I was deciding how to handle going to church.
I mean, I can just show up as Lily, it's not like new people are that uncommon. If someone asks if I know Adam, I can just say Iâm his cousin or something.
Besides, demons can attend church, itâs not that weird, right?
The real issue was my father. If my theory was correct, he would understand where my shapeshifting came from, and I was struggling to hold out hope that he would take the news well.
Well, thereâs only one way to do thisâ¦
I put on a white dress with a high neckline and a long, ruffled skirt, taking care to select a bra that wouldnât show through the fabric. The fact that Chris had helped me pick out clothes ended up being a real boon here, given that alone Iâd probably have chosen all black bras and been completely screwed when it came to white tops.
The train ride over was uneventful, the tension slowly building in my gut. I wished I had my tail to mess with for the millionth time.
How do humans deal with not having a tail?
Once I entered the large halls of the church, avoiding the holy water by the doors just in case, it took a while for anyone to notice me. Sophia was the first to react, staring at my face with a puzzled frown before her eyes widened and she gave me a wave.
I saw my father, talking with one of the older regulars, Mr. Johnson, but when his eyes scanned the room, he passed over me without thought.
Ouch.
It seemed silly to be upset about it, given he didnât know it was me, and especially given what I was expecting later, but I couldn't help but feel it.
I passed the stained glass windows, which were abstract patterns of colors rather than a full mural, but they were pretty anyway, bathing me in a kaleidoscope of different shades.
The hard pew stabbed into me as I sat next to Sophia, trying my hardest to relax. She rested a hand on my thigh, a friendly touch on top of my skirt, and I grabbed her hand, squeezing it in mine. In truth, we didnât know each other that well, despite how long we had been going to our bible study group together, but her touch was soothing nonetheless, a reminder that someone was on my side.
I sat, impatient and squirming, through a sermon I couldnât focus on, resisting the urge to turn and look at my dad.
When the pastor finished and it was time to go to my study group, I instead followed my father outside, directed by a subtle gesture from him.
He knows.
We stood, a few feet apart, in a small path off of the main building, surrounded on all sides by foliage that was slowly curling in on itself, preparing for winter.
âIâm taking you out of school,â he stared down at me, frowning more than he was smiling, but still calm â not angry.
I took that as a sign that there was room to convince him. âDadââ
He cut me off, âI shouldâve known you would turn out just like her, you always looked more like her.â He shook his head, disappointed. âAfter everything I did for you? Making sure you had a strong moral foundation, you still failed?â
âDaââ
âYour mother⦠She wasnât a good person.â His eyes glazed over, looking through me, into the past. âShe was a sinner and a whore, that much should be obvious, but beyond thatâ¦â
He paused to catch his breath, a deep inhale and exhale during which I couldâve interrupted. But I needed to hear the next part.
âShe saw people as food, kid â we were like prey to herâ¦â His eyes refocused and he stared into my eyes, the yellowish brown iris he saw surely reminding me of my mother. âI didnât want you to be like herâ¦â
My wide eyes threatened to spill tears as my feelings teetered between fury and despondence.
He doesnât accept me, what a bigot!
But heâs just doing his best, trying to make sure I grow up to be a good personâ¦
What, so giving me any kind of freedom â showing me any kindness would destroy my morals?!
He doesnât know any betterâ¦
As my thoughts warred, my mouth flopped open and closed, acting out the beginnings of all of the words I wanted to say, all of the pent up feelings I had about my father. In the end, there was only one thing I had to communicate.
âDad, I love you.â
A moment of silence passed.
Dad stared down on me, expression blank, unfeeling. When he spoke, his voice was much the same. âListen to me, drop out and come back home. You can become a priest under me, thereâs still a chance to save your soulâ¦â He closed his eyes and looked down. âOtherwise⦠I never want to see you again.â
I hesitated a moment, staring into his worn, resigned face.
Without a sound, I magicked myself away before his eyes could open.
Unfortunately, magic couldnât stop my tears from finally spilling.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
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