The next day, I woke up to the smell of my mom's Sunday breakfast: Cheddar smothered eggs, crispy bacon, glorious sausages, and homemade crepes.
"Good morning sweetie. Are you sore from yesterday," Mom asked, sliding a crepe onto my plate.
"Yeah. My back, my biceps, my abs, my legs. They're so---"
"Well, we're still going to church. Don't think you can get out of it."
"I know."
After eating, I got dressed and we were on our way to St. Mary's across town. It was a large church, like a small cathedral, with ivy vines climbing up in every angle. The yard was neatly kept with gigantic willow trees lining the brick walkways. Inside, there were vibrant stained glass windows and a massive altar. It was almost like a throne room of a palace in England.
My mother insisted on sitting near the front, as always. My friend, Brenda and her family were to our left. Brenda and I always shared the Bible. She was a girl of average social class at school and had the voice of Beyoncé mixed with Whitney Houston and a dash of Aretha Franklin.
At the end of mass, as our parents socialized, Brenda and I sat underneath the second willow tree to the right of the church. "So I joined the gym."
"Why? You have no reason to. You'd rather sit in la biblioteca instead of sitting with us at lunch. In the cafeteria. Where there's food," she assured me.
"I was getting some chub on."
"Lara, you're probably the most perfect person I know."
I chuckled. "No, Lauren is."
"Lauren's stupid."
"Yeah, but she's incredibly gorgeous. And that's pretty much the only thing people care about at school."
She nodded in agreement. "I guess that's true. But Lara you're not fat. What gym did you join?"
"Leeroy's."
"Leeroy's. The guy that owns the gym has the weirdest son ever."
"Yeah. Leeroy."
"You met him?"
"Mhm. He was very---I dunno. He seemed---"
"Everyone knows him. But no one knows enough about him. Just that the fact that he's a kind, generous idiot and is most likely, gay."
"Yeah...I completely agree with that."
