“I don’t want to go in,” I say to you, letting out a heavy sigh. “Everybody’s going to know.” You hand me your cigarette, which I take with no hesitation and bring to my lips.

You and I have been dating for a couple weeks. And let’s just say…I’ve changed a lot in those 14 days. We met right after Mass one day, where your mom came up to my dad and I and asked if we could become “friends” so I could be a good influence on you. Basically, she wanted the exact opposite of this to happen.

My whole life, I’ve been very religious. I’ve gone to church every Sunday, never had a girlfriend/my first kiss, never partied, etc. You’re the exact opposite. You went to church that day wearing black ripped jeans, combat boots, and a crop top with no bra underneath. My dad was hesitant about us spending time together, but he let it slide as he knows that your mom is a very holy woman.

Within the first two hours of us hanging out, you gave me my first cigarette, my first kiss, and my first orgasm.

Right now, we’re sitting in your car as you drop me off for Sunday Mass. We’ve spent most of the past couple weeks together, and you’ve influenced me a lot. My parents hate you, but I haven’t been around them enough for them to properly yell at me yet. Not until today.

After taking a couple more drags of the cigarette, I say a quick prayer to a God I’m not even sure I still believe in, before opening the passenger door to get out of the car.