There Goes Sunday School Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by 7S

  There Goes Sunday School

  * * *

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-64255-653-7

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64255-654-4

  * * *

  7 Sisters Publishing

  P.O. Box 993

  Jupiter, Florida 33458

  * * *

  www.alexanderceberhart.com

  www.7sisterspublishing.com

  * * *

  Copyright © 2018 Alexander C. Eberhart

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction and does not represent any individual living or dead. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  “Ow! You’re on my foot!” I push the blond away, worried someone will hear us on the other side of the bathroom door. —

  Lord, it’s hot in here.

  Sweat drips down my back, and a clump of dark hair sticks to my head. Melancholy music bears down from outside, loud enough it shakes the thin walls around us.

  “Sorry,” mutters the guy whose name I can’t remember. Then his lips return to my neck, nibbling playfully.

  I don’t really understand his fascination with my Adam’s apple, but hey, who am I to judge?

  God, I know this is wrong, but I would really appreciate it if you just turned Your omnipotent gaze for, like, five more minutes? That would be awesome, Big Guy.

  A nasty smell coming from the urinal in the corner burns my nose.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea? Then again, it’s the last night I’m stuck in this hell hole, and when else am I going to get the chance for an anonymous make-out session?

  “All right campers.” A charismatic voice echoes through the space over the strumming of a guitar. “We’ve had a great week here at Pineland, and tomorrow we go back into the world. So, tonight, give it your all!”

  “Yeah,” I mutter, looking down at the mess of blond hair. “Give it your all.

  “Lyrics are up on the screen, so let’s praise His name!”

  Jeez, Blondie is really getting into it. His hands drop down my stomach, and I jolt.

  “Easy!” I slap his hand. “I’m ticklish.”

  He gives me a grin, flashing pearly whites. He’s a little shorter than me, even though he told me he is a senior.

  I wonder how he gets his hair to stay up like that? Mine goes flat just walking outside in this muggy weather. I should ask him what product he uses.

  His teeth scrape against my throat, and I’m derailed.

  “Hey!” I shove him again, legs tangled in mine. “No biting! We talked about this. Nothing that leaves a mark.”

  “Sorry,” the blond boy replies sheepishly, green eyes still lit with excitement. His snaggletooth smile is perfectly framed by adorable dimples. “I’ve never done this before. I’m a little over eager.”

  The obvious bulge in his jeans rubbing against my thigh is the punctuation that backs up his statement.

  “Oh, yeah. Me neither,” I lie as he comes at me again.

  How many boys have I kissed at this point? I’m sure You’re keeping track up there, Big Guy. Want to overlook the blatant lying too? It kinda goes hand in hand with the whole in-the-closet situation.

  My hand on his chest stops him. “Just cool it with the bicuspids, okay?”

  Blondie nods, closing the space between us as his lips press into mine with enough force to move me back a step. My back hits the wall, and his tongue is practically down my throat.

  Jeez. This guy needs to get out more. Then again, judging by the deep drawl, and the fact I saw the church bus he got off earlier this week, I’m guessing there aren’t a lot of openly gay guys just floating around Jasper County.

  I feel for him. It’s easier for me to find someone to lock lips with on the weekend, being so close to Atlanta. Hell, it’s the mecca for all gay kids this side of the Mason-Dixon line. It calls to us, promising nights of flashing lights, drug-hazed dancing and—if you’re lucky—consensual sex. But that mostly depends on how believable your fake ID is.

  “When peace like a river, attendeth me away.” The chorus of voices swells from just outside those thin walls, adding to the pressure and heat of the moment.

  God, I really love this. Does that make me a bad person?

  Blondie presses into me, producing an awesome amount of friction that sends shivers from the base of my spine. For someone so inexperienced, he knows how to turn me on. And on I am turned.

  “When sorrows like sea billows roll,” the voices sing.

  Something rolls down my leg, but it, most assuredly, is not sorrows. If this goes on for much longer, I’m going to have to change pants.

  I’m so going to Hell.

  “Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say.”

  “Oh my God.” Blondie breaks away, gasping for breath. A bit of saliva clings to his bottom lip, and his deep green eyes are filled with a hunger so ravenous I don’t know if they’ll ever be satisfied. “This is so much better than I ever imagined it would be. I mean—”

  “Yeah, it’s incredible. Stop talking,” I interrupt before silencing him with another kiss. I pull his shoulder, turning him around so I have him pinned against the wall. My free hand drifts down, running across the front of his jeans. That makes his squirm with delight.

  “It is well, it is well, with my soul.”

  My lips trace his neck, mapping out the spots that cause him to gasp. There are a lot of those.

  “Oh, God.” Blondie jerks, and his words change into unintelligible gasps as a new heat fills the palm of my hand.

  I pull away, a fresh stain spreading across his crotch.

  “S-Sorry,” he mutters, face flushed and chest heaving.

  “Don’t be.” I laugh, adjusting the discomfort between my legs. “That’s kinda the point.”

  “It is well, it is well, with my soul.” The hymn continues through the walls.

  “That was so hot.” Blondie is still breathing hard, leaned up against the
wall and eyes half-lidded. “Do you want me to help you get off?”

  “Nah.” I’m already running my hands under the stream of water in the sink. “I don’t want to have to clean up another mess.” With a coy smile over my shoulder, I add, “You’ve already made one.”

  Blondie blushes again, and I laugh. After my hands are dry, I toss the wad of paper towels in the trash can.

  “This was fun.” I can already feel the awkwardness start to grow like a fungus between us. “Great way to end the summer. Thanks, I needed that.”

  “Can I give you a call sometime?” Blondie is still over eager, despite his emission.

  He’s cute. But no one is cute enough for me to take that kind of risk.

  “Sorry, man.” I pat his shoulder. “I can’t do phone numbers.” I unlock the door and leave my newly moistened friend behind.

  Taking a deep breath, I sneak back into the chapel, a little surprised I don’t immediately burst into flames. Then again, my parents always say God has a sense of humor. Having me suffer through the rest of this endless song is worse than any circle of Hell.

  “It is well, with my soul.” I join with the crowd.

  “Where did you disappear to?” Jackie asks, lifting a curl of hair off her glistening forehead. It’s still a million degrees inside, even though the sun went down hours ago. The late-night worship session has just ended. I guess it was naïve of me to think she missed my little detour.

  “Had to take a dump,” I tell her, clutching my stomach for emphasis. “That cardboard they tried to pass off as pizza today was wreaking havoc.” She’s bound to believe that one. Camp food is literally the worst.

  “Gross.” She laughs, swatting at my arm.

  Jackie hates it when I talk about normal bodily function—at least the ones not pertaining to sex. She’s classy that way.

  “Are you coming to the campfire?” she asks.

  “Are you kidding?” I fake offense. “Not even the cardboard pizza shits could keep me away.”

  “I heard that, Mike!” someone yells from my left.

  “Oh, go suck a dick, Bryan!” Jackie comes to my defense.

  Jackie and I get sucked into the horde of bodies exiting the chapel. Blondie is coming out of the men’s room as we pass, and I can’t help winking at him. I’ll miss him when we head back to reality in the morning, but probably not as much as he’s going to miss me.

  The gang of sweaty teens mosey on down to the lakeside where I can already see the glow of the bonfire. Every year, our youth group ends the week with fellowship around the warmth of burning pallets, swapping stories about what we’ve learned through the week’s lessons and how we were changed and blah blah blah.

  Us heathens really use it as an excuse to roast marshmallows while the girls talk shit about each other and the straight bros take bets on who can jump over the flames without singeing their asses. For me, their idiotic exploits are a lesson in exasperation.

  The heat smacks me in the face as we clear the trees, and it does nothing to help the swamp-ass situation.

  “Jackie!” A brunette girl waves her over to the wooden bench on the outer edge of the space.

  I follow Jackie like a puppy, watching Danny Russo take a leap over the fire. Only his sandals are smoking as he lands, and the bros let out a howl into the night air.

  The display of testosterone is ridiculous. And kinda hot. I’m starting to wish I’d let Blondie finish the job he started.

  Hey, Big Guy. Quick question. If I’m not supposed to find boys attractive, then why did you make them so fucking irresistible? I don’t think that’s really fair.

  “That was such an amazing experience,” the brown-headed girl tells Jackie. “I just felt this presence there tonight, you know? Like the Holy Spirit was just with us. Did you feel it too?”

  “Oh yeah,” Jackie agrees, voice taking on a familiar higher pitch that means she’s lying out of her ass. “I totally felt it. Incredible, Sandy.”

  She turns to mouth, “What the fuck?”

  I’m dying.

  “What about you, Mike?” Sandy looks at me.

  I wipe the remnants of laughter from my face. She’s so intense, I can’t break away from her stare. “Oh, I completely agree.”

  She nods as I speak like some possessed bobble-head doll.

  “It was definitely life changing. Especially tonight. Sooo good.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel.” Sandy’s eyes start to well up. “This whole week has been just such a Godsend for me. I feel like I’ve grown really close to you guys, and so much closer to God in my walk. You know what I mean?”

  Jackie and I just nod as the poor girl rambles. Thankfully, we’re saved a few minutes later by another group of loud young ladies who quickly envelope Sandy into their numbers. They keep crying and hugging, and honestly, there are way too many feels for me to even comprehend. Girls are far too emotional for their own good.

  Jackie lets out a sigh, leaning her head on my shoulder. “Jesus, I thought she would never shut up.”

  “I don’t think she breathed the whole time she was talking.” I laugh. “Like, seriously. Does she have gills on the side of her neck or something?”

  Jackie’s head shakes against me as she giggles. “Not that I’ve seen. I had to stand beside her for most of the night,” she explains. “She kept crying and grabbing my hand to raise it along with hers. Super awkward. And then, half way through Amazing Grace, one of the rubber bands from her braces flew off and smacked me in the side of my face. That fucker hurt!”

  “I can imagine. But at least you weren’t beside Freddie Spitz. Every time his hands went up, I got a mouthful of BO. I think I actually gagged at one point.”

  We both giggle like school girls. I wonder if it looks like we’re a couple. Wouldn’t that make things so much easier?

  “Where did you really disappear to?” Jackie asks again, turning on me with accusatory eyes. “You were right beside me going in, and then you were gone. I was minutes away from sending a search party.”

  That’s the thing about Jackie, she’s always keeping tabs on me. It’s a good thing, I guess. But it sure does make meeting a stranger for random make-outs a challenge.

  “You caught me.” I shrug, looking away from her. “I was making out with a hot blond in the bathroom.”

  Her soft giggles balloon into full-blown laughter. “Yeah right,” she manages to say through the hilarity, “and I’m the Queen of England. You’d never be skanky enough to take advantage of some girl on a church trip.”

  “You’re right.” I marvel at the truth in her words. “No girls for me. But I really was in the bathroom. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  About that.

  “I know you wouldn’t, Mike. And that’s why you’re my best friend. Well, that, and the fact I find you slightly less insufferable than the rest of these bastards.”

  She slugs me on the shoulder, and I smack her back.

  “Wanna S’more?” She grabs her pack. “I have a Hershey bar in my backpack if it hasn’t already turned into a puddle. If that’s the case, I can just squeeze it right into your mouth.”

  “That sounds delicious.”

  The rest of the evening consists of smoky food and conversation as we roast and toast our way into a sugar-induced stupor. After the fire has burned out and the couples have all snuck away for some late-night tonsil hockey in the woods, I say goodnight to Jackie as she heads to the girls’ cabins on the other side of camp.

  They laid the rules out very clearly at the beginning of the week. You gotta have the boys and girls literally as far away from each other as physically possible after dark. They always like to use that fun little analogy about boys being blue and girls being pink. Don’t want anyone making purple on the lawn.

  But those rules are fine by me. It means no one even thinks about blues making blue all over the place. That’s more my speed anyways.

  The hike back is pure torture, and I’m pouring sweat in minutes.

&n
bsp; God, is Hell going to be as hot as summer in Georgia? Because I may want to start reconsidering my sexuality if this is what I have to look forward to.

  A thousand or so moths flutter around the bright lamppost outside my cabin, and a ruckus to end all ruckuses is going on inside. I open the door, nimbly dodging a Nerf dart as Cameron and Jimmy wage a war of orange foam across the bunk beds. Holding my backpack in front of me, I dash to my corner bunk and dive beneath the safety of the thin sheet because it’s far too hot for a blanket.

  Jimmy has lost his shirt somehow in the war and is showing off an amazing six pack that sprang up over the summer. And that’s totally fine with me. Cameron isn’t too bad to look at either, which makes concealing my attraction to him that much harder—to the point there’s been some awkwardly long stares. Nothing makes Sunday school more uncomfortable than eye contact with hot, straight guys.

  The war ends with the two of them wrestling in the floor, and I have to pretend I’m reading to keep myself from gawking.

  I’ve never been so hard in my life.

  My things are already packed, so I’ll be ready when Mom comes to get me in the morning, and now, there’s nothing for me to do. Jackie has been giving me shit all day about leaving her to ride the bus on her own, but Mom wants to take me back-to-school shopping, and she likes to go out early enough she doesn’t have to fight for a parking spot. That means she’ll be here at the crack of dawn to get me. I’ll miss the last session in the chapel, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.