When Autumn Ends
Page 26
“Have a seat, Miss DiNatale.”
“Oh, it’s Faith.”
She creased her eyebrows.
“My name is Faith. You can call me Faith. I used to be a student here. I don’t know if you remember me—”
“Please have a seat.” She cut me off. Guess she didn’t care that I was a good girl who didn’t cause any problems when I attended school here.
I sat down in the only empty chair while Gary and Greta Geek stared me up and down. Who are these people anyway?
Sister Antoinette cleared her throat, never breaking her stern demeanor. “Miss DiNatale. This is Roger and Vivian Hutchins. Their daughter, Molly, is in Joelle’s class.”
“Oh, you’re Molly’s parents? Joey talks about her all the time. I would love to get your number so we can get the girls together for a play date.”
The mother raised her un-plucked eyebrow at me then stared straight ahead.
“Miss DiNatale, do you mind telling us just exactly what this is?”
My face was on fire and all the feeling in my legs diminished when Sister Antoinette reached into her desk drawer and pulled out what I recognized right away as a cock ring from the new Bright Days, Brighter Nights Collection. My throat tightened and a familiar mounting pressure began to form in my shoulders and chest as all eyes were on me.
“I-I...” I stammered as I looked at the statue of the Blessed Mother on the shelf behind the sister’s desk. Even she was staring at me. Oh, screw it! I wasn’t going to fess up to this. I’d always been a good girl when I was under this roof, and I wasn’t about to tarnish that reputation now. “Oh, I don’t know, is that some type of pretty bracelet?” I asked, taking it from the sister’s hand and looking it over as if I had never laid eyes on it before.
The sister cleared her throat, and I was pretty sure that I saw a hint of pink adorn her face before she began to speak. “Miss DiNatale, Joelle was giving these out to classmates as friendship bracelets.”
“Aww…well, that’s so sweet!”
“Miss DiNatale! These are not bracelets!” Her voice rose.
“Well, then what are they?” I was going to hell. I was going to hell. I was lying right to Sister Antoinette’s face with the Blessed Mother sitting behind her glaring at me. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but I could have sworn the sweet, calming demeanor on that statue’s face had changed to a displeasured glare. God, this place made me nuts! Maybe there was something in the ventilation system here that immediately caused you to emit that Catholic guilt.
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