1 | church boy

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| @cringelee 's chapter |

It was a little hard to live with a priest for a father. Jack grew up with a very religious father, and after they moved to America, his father bought a church and became a priest. 

Jack accompanied his father every Sunday in the church, along with everyone else who lived in their small town. It was a bit stressful, having to constantly be at the church. But he supported his father, and his father was a strict Christian. Jack and his father have practically lived by the bible. His father did his best to keep Jack pure; he wouldn't house a sinner. 

So of course, Jack was surprised to see a boy with red hair, obviously dyed, sitting in the back of the church during the service this morning. He had never seen him before. Didn't he go to school with him?

After the service..

When the service was over, he noticed the boy leave first. While his father was talking to some of the townsfolk, he escaped outside and glanced around, hoping to catch sight of the boy once more. 

"Looking for someone?"

Jack turned suddenly, the voice startling him out of his search. It was the red haired boy. He was leaning against the side of the church, a lit cigarette rolling between his fingers. Didn't he know he couldn't smoke on church property?

Jack stormed over. "You can't smoke here, this is a church." The boy raised his eyebrows.

"It's not like I'm in the church. Besides, what're you gonna do about it?" He smirked, clearly amused.

Jack frowned, annoyed. "Put it out. It's still disrespectful."

The boy only grinned. "To who? Jesus?" He got out of his position of standing against the wall so he could lean closer to Jack. "If it's so disrespectful, then make me put it out." He held the cigarette closer to Jack.

Without thinking, Jack slapped the boy's hand, causing him to drop the cigarette. Jack took a step back, expecting the boy to be mad, but surprisingly, he laughed. 

"You actually made me drop it. Didn't think you had the guts, church boy." He grinned at Jack. "My name's Mark, what's yours?"

"It's Jack," he held his hand out, being polite. Mark fist bumped it instead. 

Jack pulled his hand back and scratched the back of his neck. This movement caused his necklace to move, and Mark noticed. 

Mark grabbed it lightly, looking at the cross closely. Jack, confused, took a step back. "Don't touch my necklace."

Mark looked at Jack, another grin etching itself onto his face. "You're kind of strict with your Christianity, huh?"

"With a dad like mine, it's hard not to be," Jack shrugged. "Hey, if you don't care about Jesus, then why did you attend the session today?"

"So I could get a laugh out of it. Church is ridiculous," Mark smirked, amused at Jack's expression. "Anyways, I've got places to be. See you at school." He waved as he walked away, and Jack watched as Mark pulled another cigarette out of his pocket.

This boy was exactly who Jack wasn't supposed to be.

Red Is The Color Of Sin | septiplierWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu