gabriella stacy was little miss perfect.

head of her youth fellowship, top of her classes and set to go to a prestigious local college that fall—she was the idealised christian social darling—a title meticulously crafted by her mother, edith. yet, there was a singular blight to her stainless image.

chad rosewood.

he had been her boyfriend since sophomore year. as if his unfortunate first name wasn’t enough of an indicator, he was a questionable young man. blond hair, defender on the college football team and a loyal congregant at their church sermons. her parents doted over him with fevor, but if they knew of the other facets—the slacking grades, the weed—they’d be horrified.

in the eyes of her peers, chad was a degenerate, and she was sure that her friends talked about them behind her back—not that her brother cassidy, a high school junior, didn’t talk shit about chad to her face, of course.

her main defence had been that it was love, and everyone was just jealous that she was happy. when that ‘love’ waned, god, that was another matter altogether.

“i think chad is cheating on me.” gabriella demurred, her tone imbued with a bemused lilt that did not indicate complete surprise; why would it? with chad, everything was a matter of when. she was technically supervising the amen army youth excursion to the park that friday afternoon, but you had tagged along, at the very least.

you were not a member of said group, christ, no, but she enjoyed having someone who wasn’t a flu-stricken ten year old to talk to. her mahogany curls were arranged neatly around her shoulders, clipboard clasped neatly over the front of her amen army shirt—mandatory merchandise.

“i cannot say i am altogether shocked,” she continued, her lips pursing delicately as she spoke, her grey eyes fixed resolutely upon the cobbled path bordered by untamed grass rather than your honestly lovely face. “but then comes the issue. i can’t dump his ass, can i? mum would throw a fit. she practically has our wedding planned.”