Chapter One

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A/N So, I actually wrote this a month ago and I'm just now publishing it. I have the next few chapters written also. I'm taking a break from my other fic for a while till I feel I can make it better again. In the meantime, I'll be working on this one :), please favorite and comment.

I stare out the window, the fields seem to be racing the car. The sun shines down on the earth making this a rather warm Sunday morning.

I adjust the collar on my shirt, sometimes it feel likes it's choking me. I look at my little brother in the seat next to me, he's asleep.

My father is telling my mother about how the neighbors think this is going to be the hottest summer we've had for years. I hope they're wrong.

She nods along and starts her own story about how she heard that the Clifford's boy has started hanging round the wrong group of kids, he won't even come to church anymore.

I silently shake my head at the thought, what a shame. I grew up with him, Michael is his name. He was always the first one to Sunday school when we were younger and couldn't attend normal service.

It's a shame he's turning into them no-good rebels now.

The sound of gravel against tire takes me from my thoughts, I look up at the small white building. There's a mass of people slowly walking in, all well dressed in bright colors.

The cross on top of the building needs to be cleaned, maybe father will offer to do it again this year.

My mothers gets out of the passenger seat and walks around to the side where Harry, my brother is. Her long, dark blonde hair is pulled neatly into a bun on top of her head. She's wearing a white floral skirt that goes just above her ankles.

Father used to say it was too short for church, but I think he's gotten used to it.

"Ashton, honey. Stop day dreaming and get out of the car. We don't want to be the last ones in or we won't get the good seats."

I mumble an apology and unbuckle myself from the seat.

We walk in together as a family, my parents behind my brother and I. My mom drags Harry to his classroom since he's not old enough to watch the pastor speak yet.

After he's settled in we make our way to the chapel. There's rows of pews filled with people who drive miles and miles every Sunday to be here.

The closest house from here is about a twenty minute drive, anyway. I believe the Mills live there.

"Hey, over here. We saved some room." I hear a loud and happy voice say. It's one of my moms friends.

Her name is Mary Lou. Her husband is named Rick and they have four children together. They have a baby, a daughter around my age, and twins who are older and have moved out already.

As we slide in the pew, their daughter smiles at me and looks down at the spot next to her indicating I should sit there.

"Hi." She says.

"Morning." I smile back at her.

The pastor walks out on the small stage and greets everyone, wishing a good morning. He begins by praying and when we all bow our heads and I can feel her eyes on me.

Mother says I should stay away from her, that she held hands with the Hood boy when they weren't even dating.

I think about what it must be like to hold someone's hand then I quickly change my thoughts. I open up the bible sitting in the slot attached to back of the pew in front of us and find the passage from which the pastor is preaching from.

I ignore the obvious staring and try to pay attention.

After about ten minutes I'm half asleep. My mother leans overs and whispers "Do you mind running and getting my sweater from the car?"

To keep myself awake I tell her I'll do it.

She squeezes my knees before I get up and I awkwardly shuffle my way out of the seating.

The church seems bigger when everyone is in the chapel and not the main lobby, it's a lot quieter too, except for the echo of the Pastor.

I walk out the front doors and the sun instantly warms my skin. I walk down the two steps and over to the car.

I know I'm supposed to enjoy what they talk about in church but sometimes I like when I have an excuse to get away.

My mothers sweater is sitting in her seat and I think it ironic she would know to bring a sweater in the middle on June.

I fold it neatly and carry it in both hands to not wrinkle it, using my body to close the car door.

I head back towards the church but notice something that wasn't there before, someone.

It's a boy, he's leaning against the side of the building. He's wearing dark colored jeans and boots, a tight T-shirt hugs his chest.

As I step closer I can see that he's smoking cigarettes and I wonder where his parents are.

He's definitely not dressed to be at church and I find it odd he'd be smoking so close to the house of The Lord.

He doesn't seem to notice to me so I continue to watch him, he brings the cigarette up to his mouth and takes in a deep breathe, smoke comes flying out his mouth as soon as he removes it.

I debate wether or not I should go tell my parents so they could find the boys own parents and they could punish him accordingly but I decide I shouldn't get involved in other peoples business.

I quickly make my way back inside the church before my mother starts to worry.

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