CHURCHILL -

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Prologue

Chadwick

Everyone in this neighborhood sucks; the only thing they know about is church. They're all so religious, it makes me cringe. Ever since my family moved here from Austin, it's been one hella a ride for me.

Prior to our relocation, my parents never attended church (or anything religious) meetings more than twice in three months. I was so used to it — my little sister and I were — until we moved here.

Well, annoying 14-year old Gina has adjusted, but I'm yet to. Now, we go every Sunday to listen to an off-tuned choir ministering and a boring lecture at the Holy Trinity Church up the Madison Lane next to Shuttle Street, where our house is located.

I mean, not that I'm atheistic or whatever they call it; I just don't like the teachings of any religion; there's this feeling that comes with them, and I don't want to partake in such.

In simple words, religion is all a game without the happy vibes. They make me cringe, but my mom won't stop pestering me about the importance of following she and her husband to church every Sunday morning.

And tell you what? I'm not ready to fight with her, so I always obey, though I'm your classic bad boy, leader of a boy gang, skipping school lessons anytime I wish.

I don't know, but I think religion, school, and love doesn't mean anything. I really hate the last 4-letter word because it's too common, and it's funny how guys around my age fall in love. I'm nineteen, by the way. I mean, what can love bring to you?

Joy? Happiness? Sex? Oh, c'mon. It mostly ends up in sadness and regrets, so it's of no use to me. I can look forward to getting married in nothing less than ten years from now.

...

Before I forget, I've been observing the preacher's son lately, and ever since I started having these weird thoughts after meeting him face-to-face during my family's visit to his house, I think that's the only motivation I get to agree with my mom's principle of attending church regularly.

The boy is always present in his father's church, alongside his fellow well-off friends who I see as spoilt brats. Not that my family's poor: we're... I think they call it middle-class or something.

So what's up with the boy, and why is he a motivating factor to my agreed church attendance? Well, I don't know, but his behaviors scream “queer!” to me. And I'm suspecting he's actually what his father preaches against, but I'm not really sure: which is why I'm even more curious and have to find out.

Cos if he is, it would be so fun to see the anti-LGBT preacher's son turn out to be who his father and the whole community never expected him to be. It would be a pure evidence of how biased Mr. Preacher and his religion happens to be.

Definitely something to write home about.

I have to figure out what's really odd about this boy.

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