paths with Maria again that day; she was sure that Maria was giving her the cold shoulder—and worse, she could have sworn that Jasmin and Becca were avoiding her, too. She wondered if Maria had told them what had happened and had cast Scarlet in a bad light. She hadn’t seen any of them at lunch, which was unusual. Scarlet was increasingly feeling as if she had no one left to turn to. Her friends, Blake, her parents—she was feeling that everyone was aligned against her.
The final bell of the day had been a welcome sound and she’d hurried back home and checked her cell again, but had still received no texts from Maria, or any of her other friends. That was a sure sign. Maria was a chronic texter, as were the others. Clearly something was up. Maria had probably told them all Scarlet tried to steal her boyfriend—which was ridiculous, because Sage wasn’t Maria’s boyfriend, and because he didn’t even like her. Not to mention that Maria didn’t even have the guts to ask him, and that Scarlet had actually looked out for her by swapping partners. But still, obviously, in Maria’s mind, that was what had happened.
Scarlet figured she should be the bigger person, and finally texted Maria after school, giving her her perspective of what had happened. But Maria didn’t reply. It was so typical. Maria could be the most loyal friend in the world—but she could also be the most spiteful and territorial.
Scarlet had finally had enough, and had put her phone away and powered it off. These days, it seemed to give her nothing but aggravation anyway. She’d waited eagerly for her mom to get home from work and now that it was almost sunset, she was actually looking forward to hearing what this priest had to say. Clearly, her life couldn’t get any worse.
The heavy door to the church creaked open, and as they walked inside, Scarlet felt transported to another world. It was quiet and dark in here, and as she took in the smooth stone floors, the old, worn pews, the stained-glass windows, it gave her a sense of peace. She was surprised at how at-home she felt—and even more surprised that she had never been here before.
Suddenly, the church bells rang out, striking six o’clock. After the traditional bells, there followed a song, ringing out in chimes. It was the most beautiful thing Scarlet had ever heard, and she felt grateful to her mom.
“Thanks for bringing me,” she said to her mom.
Her mom squeezed her hand as her face broke into a smile, and Scarlet felt guilty she had been so stubborn.
A side door opened at the far end of the church, and in came Father McMullen, wearing a welcoming smile.
“And you must be Scarlet,” he said in a cheery voice, as he strutted towards them. He extended his hand way out in front of him, before he even reached them. Scarlet shook his hand, and he shook hers back, encasing it with both of his hands heartily.
“I’ve heard so many lovely things about you. Thank you for coming.”
“Thanks for having me,” she said, not knowing how to reply.
As he held her hands in his, he stared into her eyes, and as she looked up into his light blue eyes, she couldn’t help but feel as if he were dissecting her. As if he sensed something that surprised him.
He quickly withdrew his two hands. As he did, his expression changed to one of hesitation—maybe even fear.
He cleared his throat.
“Please, come this way,” he said as he turned and led them down the aisle.
They followed him down the long aisle, passing the pews, and as they did, Scarlet noticed him looking side to side, his expression increasingly worried. She turned to see what he was looking at, and noticed the rows of tall, burning candles: as they passed, one at a time, each candle burned out.
By the time they reached the end of the aisle, all the candles along the walls had been extinguished—and as they approached the altar, the dozens of small votive candles all suddenly blew out, too.
The Father stopped cold in his
The final bell of the day had been a welcome sound and she’d hurried back home and checked her cell again, but had still received no texts from Maria, or any of her other friends. That was a sure sign. Maria was a chronic texter, as were the others. Clearly something was up. Maria had probably told them all Scarlet tried to steal her boyfriend—which was ridiculous, because Sage wasn’t Maria’s boyfriend, and because he didn’t even like her. Not to mention that Maria didn’t even have the guts to ask him, and that Scarlet had actually looked out for her by swapping partners. But still, obviously, in Maria’s mind, that was what had happened.
Scarlet figured she should be the bigger person, and finally texted Maria after school, giving her her perspective of what had happened. But Maria didn’t reply. It was so typical. Maria could be the most loyal friend in the world—but she could also be the most spiteful and territorial.
Scarlet had finally had enough, and had put her phone away and powered it off. These days, it seemed to give her nothing but aggravation anyway. She’d waited eagerly for her mom to get home from work and now that it was almost sunset, she was actually looking forward to hearing what this priest had to say. Clearly, her life couldn’t get any worse.
The heavy door to the church creaked open, and as they walked inside, Scarlet felt transported to another world. It was quiet and dark in here, and as she took in the smooth stone floors, the old, worn pews, the stained-glass windows, it gave her a sense of peace. She was surprised at how at-home she felt—and even more surprised that she had never been here before.
Suddenly, the church bells rang out, striking six o’clock. After the traditional bells, there followed a song, ringing out in chimes. It was the most beautiful thing Scarlet had ever heard, and she felt grateful to her mom.
“Thanks for bringing me,” she said to her mom.
Her mom squeezed her hand as her face broke into a smile, and Scarlet felt guilty she had been so stubborn.
A side door opened at the far end of the church, and in came Father McMullen, wearing a welcoming smile.
“And you must be Scarlet,” he said in a cheery voice, as he strutted towards them. He extended his hand way out in front of him, before he even reached them. Scarlet shook his hand, and he shook hers back, encasing it with both of his hands heartily.
“I’ve heard so many lovely things about you. Thank you for coming.”
“Thanks for having me,” she said, not knowing how to reply.
As he held her hands in his, he stared into her eyes, and as she looked up into his light blue eyes, she couldn’t help but feel as if he were dissecting her. As if he sensed something that surprised him.
He quickly withdrew his two hands. As he did, his expression changed to one of hesitation—maybe even fear.
He cleared his throat.
“Please, come this way,” he said as he turned and led them down the aisle.
They followed him down the long aisle, passing the pews, and as they did, Scarlet noticed him looking side to side, his expression increasingly worried. She turned to see what he was looking at, and noticed the rows of tall, burning candles: as they passed, one at a time, each candle burned out.
By the time they reached the end of the aisle, all the candles along the walls had been extinguished—and as they approached the altar, the dozens of small votive candles all suddenly blew out, too.
The Father stopped cold in his
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