"Yeah," I said, putting it back down in its spot.

"So," I said. "Did you notice the new guy who was at the h.e.l.l House meeting?"

"I did indeed," said Dad. "In fact, just this afternoon I learned that our new congregation member is the young Tyson Davis. He's staying in town with his aunt, Vivian Moss."

"I know," I said.

Dad looked at me with a question in his eyes, and I felt nervous for a moment.

"I served him a sandwich at Joey's yesterday," I said, leaving out the part about the movies.

"It seems he's been away from the church for a while," said Dad. "I expect you can help him come back into the fold."

I nodded casually, letting a smile creep across my face.

Then Dad returned to sorting his fis.h.i.+ng lures, and I went back in the house without asking any follow-up questions. Having my dad practically tell me to hang out with Ty was a plus. And I didn't want to seem too interested.

As Mom brings her own plate over to the table and finally sits down with us for dinner, Dad reaches out for my hand, bowing his head for prayer. I close my eyes.

"Lord, thank you for bringing this food to our table so we may enjoy time as a family and the sustenance of you, our G.o.d. Thank you for Theresa's beautiful earrings, and thank you for their sale price." I laugh a little. Dad squeezes my hand affectionately-he likes to try to make me laugh during prayer some nights, and I can tell he's in a good mood. "Thank you for Lacey's curious nature. In Jesus's name we pray. Amen."

Chapter Seven.

"The home and family are major targets for the Kingdom of h.e.l.l," says Pastor Frist.

The second h.e.l.l House meeting is finally here. Dad is being maddeningly silent about how the production is going to be staged this year, but we'll all find out today. I'm in a row with Dean and Starla Joy and Tessa. Ty's not here-the other night I got the feeling that h.e.l.l House isn't really his thing, but I'm going to try to convince him to get involved.

As Pastor Frist describes the domestic abuse scene, I can feel a few eyes sweep over Starla Joy and Tessa. Everyone knows their dad hit their mom when they were little, and that's most of the reason why he's been gone for three years and no one talks about it. I squeeze Starla Joy's hand and she sits there, still, not reacting. I see Tessa lean in toward her sister protectively. They fight sometimes, but Tessa has always looked after Starla Joy, especially when things with their parents were really bad, just before their dad left.

Thankfully, Pastor Frist doesn't linger on that topic. He explains that the scene will involve spousal abuse, and then hands the mic back to Dad, who moves on to talk about the drunk driving scene.

"The false highs and constant lows of alcohol are never more sobering than when you realize that you are a killer," says Dad, using his ominous voice, the one he employs when he plays Satan in the show. He explains that the scene will be a combination of an out-of-control party and a drunk driving accident that results in an innocent bystander's death. I zone out a little-this is pretty standard.

But when Pastor Frist starts talking about the abortion scene, I listen extra carefully. I want the part so badly. The emotional range it takes to play a girl who has ended her baby's life is immense-and the scene is beautiful. Last year, the Youth Leaders decorated the walls with pink tissue paper and had speakers set up to play audio of a heartbeat, so when people walked into the room, it was like being inside a womb. Julia, who played Abortion Girl last year, sat in the middle of the room, where she met her murdered baby at various ages-those roles go to younger kids who say things like, "Why did you kill me, Mommy?" It's an intense moment, and like I said, most of the audience usually leaves that room weeping. Abortion Girl is the best part in the show.

"This year's abortion stage will not be a womb," says Pastor Frist. People start to chatter a little, like they might object-that scene is so moving it shouldn't be messed with-but then Dad tells us that the setting will be a hospital gurney where an abortion has just been performed.

"Wow," whispers Tessa, who has perked up and is listening intently.

It sounds so powerful. I'm going to do it, I think. I'm definitely auditioning.

The next day, in the living room, I go over the lines for Abortion Girl. I know that on Sat.u.r.day it won't be a secret that I want this part. But I feel like if I tell my friends I'm going for it, they'll try to talk me out of it. Not because they don't believe in me or anything like that, just because, well, it's a senior girl part. But still, I can't help wanting it. And if I'm going to be able to break out of my quiet sh.e.l.l in the audition, I have to practice.

"I made a mistake ... I want my baby back!"

I say this line over and over again, trying to get into the emotion of it, trying to imagine that I'm lying on a hospital bed covered in blood. I'm saying it quietly so Dad won't hear-Mom's at church for an auction planning committee meeting-but when the emotion overtakes me, I let out a scream that punctuates the line.

Dad flies out of the bedroom in two seconds.

"Lacey?"

My face turns red.

"Oh, sorry," I say. "I was, um, practicing for Sat.u.r.day."

"Trying out your scream?" he asks, his worried face softening into a smile.

"Something like that." I can feel that I'm sweating-I really worked myself up-and Dad sits down next to me on the couch and puts his hand on my forehead.

"You're not going overboard, are you?" he asks. "h.e.l.l House can be intense for everyone involved, and you've never been eligible for a lead role before."

That's true. Since Dad's a big part of the church, I've been able to have small parts-like as a kid who gets killed by the drunk driver one year, and a weeping little sister at the suicide victim's funeral another time. But this is my shot. I decide to tell Dad what I'm planning.

"I'm rehearsing for Abortion Girl," I say, half expecting him to laugh at me. I stare up at my father and watch him break into a grin. But it's not a mocking one, it's encouraging. Proud, even.

"That would be a great role for you, Lace," says Dad. "You'd be excellent."

"Excellent at what?" asks Mom, coming in the front door with an armful of papers. She heads straight for the metal filing cabinet in the corner by Dad's desk.

"Lacey's going to try out for Abortion Girl," Dad says.

Mom turns her head over her shoulder.

"That's some mature content, Ted." It bothers me when she talks to Dad and not me about me. I take a deep breath to relieve the feeling of tightness that's gathering in my chest.

"I've seen the show a hundred times," I say. "I know what the role is. Besides, I'm the one who sees girls at school go through the real thing-I like the idea of putting myself in their shoes. It'll make me a more loving and empathetic person."

"But to put yourself in the mind-set of that situation ...," says Mom, opening the file drawer and carefully tucking away her papers one by one. "That's a big deal, Lacey. It might affect you in ways you won't understand."

My mom thinks I am eight years old. She wishes I'd stay quiet and shy and boring forever. This much is clear.

"I think she'd be great," says Dad, ignoring Mom's objections.

"Really?" I ask, turning back to my father and deciding not to listen to Mom. "I mean, I know it normally goes to a senior."

"It goes to the girl who's best for the part," says Dad. "If that happens to be a senior, so be it, but I don't see why a junior girl couldn't do it just as well-if she gives a good audition."

I smile. "Thanks, Dad."

"So let's hear it," he says.

"What?" I ask.

"Your lines. If you can't do them in front of me here, you're gonna have a hard time at the audition on Sat.u.r.day."

I look down at my script.

"Shall I play the Demon Tour Guide?" asks Dad.

"Sure," I say. I like the idea of rehearsing with my dad-and he has a great demon voice.

"So, let's see here ...," says Dad. He leans over my pages and we run the lines, devil and daughter together.

At my audition, I actually weep. I'm not talking a few tears, I'm not talking a couple of sniffles-I'm talking full-on sob session. Somehow I just got carried away with the character of this girl who makes a big mistake. Well, two really. Because she had s.e.x out of wedlock and then she had an abortion. It's a double-sin scene. Maybe that's why it affected me so much.

When I walk out into the church lobby, Starla Joy's eyes widen.

"Lacey!" she says. "What in the world-"

"You did it, didn't you?" Ty stands up from the lobby bench and strides over to me, interrupting Starla Joy. "You tried out for Abortion Girl."

I nod, and Starla Joy hands me a tissue from the front table. I blow my nose and Ty puts his arm around me for a quick squeeze.

I wait for Starla Joy to say something snarky, but she doesn't. She just smiles and says, "I didn't think you had it in you."

"What?" I ask.

"The courage to go for what you want," she says. Her eyes flit to Ty and I wonder if she's talking about more than just the Abortion Girl part. I blush and look down, hoping Ty didn't notice.

She's right, of course. In the past I haven't gone for what I want. I've been safe and good and all those things that were expected of me. But I prepared for this-it's like I was ready to reach a little higher this year-and when I got into the audition room, something s.h.i.+fted. I went for it.

We all sit on the lobby benches. Dean isn't here-he signed up to work on the stage crew and be an extra wherever he's needed, but he's not auditioning for a bigger role. I tried to get him to go for Cyberp.o.r.n Boy, who looks at lewd sites online, or even Satan's Helper so he could work with my dad in the h.e.l.l scene, but he said he gets stage fright and can't have a big role. I know he's making that up-he played Joseph in last year's Christmas pageant-and I almost kept pus.h.i.+ng him to audition, but Starla Joy said to just let him brood. Sometimes he needs alone time.

A few minutes later, Tessa walks out of the audition room and throws her arms up in the air. "I nailed it," she says. "Abortion Girl is mine."

Then she pushes open the double doors and says, "Come on, Starla Joy. Momma's making spaghetti."

Starla Joy gives me a sympathetic glance and a quick wave before she follows her sister out to the parking lot. When I look up at Ty, I see his eyes are focused on Tessa's retreating shape.

Sometimes I understand why Starla Joy gets mad at her sister. She tends to just claim things, like a guy or a part in a play. As if there's no chance that someone else might be compet.i.tion. I think she's a little conceited.

I try to shrug off that feeling because it seems unkind, but I have trouble letting it go. I want this part. When will it be my time to stand out?

I exhale slowly to let go of my annoyance. Then I turn to Ty.

"So, what are you doing now?" I ask him. It's a small sentence, but it still feels like I'm putting myself out there for rejection if he's busy. Which is silly, I know, but ...

He's looking past me, at the bulletin board that holds announcements about Bible study groups and bake sales. Ty didn't audition for h.e.l.l House, though I tried to get him to probably harder than I did with Dean. He just kept saying it's not his thing, but I'm hoping I can bring him back to church a little bit this year. I mean, my dad asked me to, after all. I'm also hoping we can finally hang out alone and maybe I can have a boyfriend by the time school starts. I know that's not a very modest or n.o.ble goal, but I do think it would be nice. I stare at his amazingly angled cheekbones and have to will myself not to reach up and touch his face.

"Well, I came here to help Aunt Vivian move some new books into the library, but I'm all done. So I thought I'd spend the afternoon with you," he says. "Where should we go?"

I breathe a sigh of relief. He likes me! He wants to spend time with me. But I immediately get nervous again because after all of my big talk about how West River is a really great town, I'm blanking. Dean and Starla Joy and I would just go get snacks and sit in our spot on the woods, or maybe go to a movie if it's a week when a new one opens. Sometimes we walk around downtown-which is really just one block-but does that really count as going somewhere? I glance around the room, hoping a poster or something will help me out.

"I have an idea," says Ty, saving me. "There's a spot I remember, from when I lived here before."

"Okay," I say, thankful that he chimed in. "Let me just tell my dad."

I practically skip over to Dad's office, where I find Mrs. Tuttle, the secretary. "Hi!" I say brightly, a big smile plastered on my face. "I know Dad's busy with auditions, so can you just tell him I'm going to hang out with friends and I'll be home by curfew. Okay, thanks. Bye!"

I don't wait for the fl.u.s.tered Mrs. Tuttle to answer-I know she'll a.s.sume I'm going to be with Dean and Starla Joy-and though my dad did say he'd like me to befriend Ty, I don't think he imagined me spending time alone with him.

"I'm ready," I say to Ty when I get back to the lobby, a little breathless.

"Follow me," he says, crooking his arm so I can link mine through it as we walk outside to the parking lot and his waiting rusty BMW.

Chapter Eight.

Once we get off the main road in town and start onto a back street through the fields, I know just where we're going.

"The picnic spot," I say, pleased with myself for remembering. In elementary school, our main field trip involved Ulster Park-which is a playground, really-and a picnic on top of the hill above the swing set and monkey bars and a rickety slide. I haven't been here in forever, but we used to come to this spot like three times a year with our teachers, maybe just to give them a break from the super-hot cla.s.srooms.

"Is it still there?" asks Ty. His question is answered as we turn into the dusty parking lot and see the swing set and the gra.s.sy hill right in front of us.

"I guess it is," I say.

"Don't tell me you never come here anymore," says Ty, turning off the engine.

"It's been a while," I answer, opening up my door and stepping out into the still air. I toss my cardigan-which is very necessary for the air-conditioned church, but not so much for the hot air out here-into the backseat.

"Shade?" asks Ty, unlocking the trunk and pulling out a faded blue sleeping bag that looks like it's seen better days.

I must look a little scared because he says, "I just thought we could sit on this-it's old but clean."

"Oh, sure," I say. I wonder when I became a girl who leaves the town limits to lie out on a sleeping bag with a boy she hardly knows. But then I chastise myself for that thought. I know him-he's Tyson Davis! And besides, my dad practically asked me to talk to him about church and stuff. So technically this is all in G.o.d's plan.

Ty spreads the sleeping bag at the high point on the hill, and we sit down and take turns sipping from his earth-friendly stainless steel bottle of water. I pull my hair off my neck and twist it into a self-holding bun because I'm starting to sweat, despite the shade.

I look down at the playground and see that weeds have grown halfway up the monkey bars and the swing chains look rusted from underuse. I guess no one comes here now that they built a new playground near the center of town. Looking at it now, remembering how much fun we used to have holding hands as we flew down the extra-wide slide, makes me feel a little melancholy.

"So are you upset?" asks Ty, picking up a blade of gra.s.s and twisting it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Upset?" I ask, wondering if Ty can read the nostalgic thoughts on my face.