The first class every day was followed by a short prep period, where students could work on anything they needed to catch up on. Winslow, Gwen, and Marcella liked to go to the library and hang out if they could afford it, and Reid went pretty much wherever Winslow did. The second class period for Winslow was chemistry, but she sat alone and didn't have any friends in the class. Third, though, was seminary, which was usually the highlight of her day, followed by lunch and orchestra in both order and favor.

Making her way outside and to the seminary building across the school's lot, Winslow walked past the stone sign reading The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in large text. Here, students of Winslow's faith could take time out of their school schedule to study the gospel, like Sunday school in the middle of their regular classes. In places with fewer members, seminary was done on a much smaller scale, usually early in the morning before school, at a church leader's house with a handful of other kids. She felt really lucky to have so many other members in the area. It was one of her favorite things about Utah.

Inside, she got Reid's scriptures from the bookshelf at the back of the classroom, then headed for their seats in the middle of the second-to-last row. Though usually empty, the seat behind hers was occupied and she turned around to find Kiernan.

“I didn't know you were a member of the church,” she said.

He chuckled. “I'm only here because my parents said I had to be.”

“Wow, so edgy…” She laughed and looked down at the paper he was working on. “Oh, who do you have for math this year?”

“Ms. Higgins.”

“Cool. I've got Giovanni.”

“Mmm, I hear she's tough,” he offered a sympathetic smile.

“Really? That's terrible news. Maybe I should transfer.” She had noticed the teacher being strict, but so far nothing particularly stood out. If she needed help in the future, though, she didn't want to have a teacher that was unwilling to work with her.

“Well, if you change your schedule, don't switch history to fourth period. I need that textbook of yours.” He smiled, indicating it was a joke, but Winslow couldn't help but recall that the seat next to Russ was available. Although, his friends were pretty loud. Maybe he didn't want to get distracted.

Winslow played along anyway, laughing and saying, “I couldn't. Fourth period is orchestra and it's the only class.”

Kiernan glanced at his worksheet. “What instrument d'you play?”

“Viola! I'm not too serious about it, though.”

“That's like, the big violin, right?” He smirked like he knew the question was offensive.

“I cannot believe another musician just said that to me.”

“Am I wrong?” His smile was kind of crooked, but in a charming way. Winslow met his eyes and was surprised by how nervous that made her. She tore her gaze away.

“What do you play, anyways?” He had said he was in two band classes, hadn't he?

“Euphonium and trombone.”

“Ooh, fancy!” She smiled, but pretended to be reading his worksheet so she wouldn't have to look at him again. His eyes were dark brown and they apparently had a way of boring into her.

Reid then walked into the room, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

She looked up at him. “Hi, Reid! Have you met Kiernan?”

He glanced at Kiernan with a raised eyebrow as he passed, but still didn't greet him, even when Kiernan offered a nod. “Yeah, he's in my history class.” He sat down and unzipped his backpack to find a pen.

“Not anymore, he's in mine now.” Winslow smiled, trying to encourage more conversation, but Kiernan went back to his homework and Reid didn't seem to care.

“Cool?” Reid made a face, then turned to Winslow. “Hey, wanna come over to study after school?”

“My idea of studying, or yours?” Winslow raised an eyebrow at him, trying to sound playful, though it did feel like they should get on the same page about it.

Reid smirked. “Hmmm, I feel like I should say yours, but now I'm not sure….” She impishly slapped him on the arm, and they both faced forward as the teacher walked in.

“Okay, everyone, I finally got the copies made!” Brother Roman waved a stack of blue paper in the air. “Let's have an opening prayer, and then I'll need a volunteer to pass out these papers so we can plan our first round of devotionals.”

“I'll say it!” a student offered. It was a quick but thoughtful prayer, and another student then volunteered to pass out the devotional sheets.

“Okay, brothers and sisters, let's take five minutes to fill these out! Everyone needs to participate, so do your neighbors a favor and volunteer for something,” Brother Roman insisted. 

Looking down at her paper, Winslow said, “Reid, will you say the opening prayer for me?” It was the first thing on the list.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, you know I hate the prayers.” Right. Winslow nodded, checking to see what was next.

“I can do it for you, Winslow.” Kiernan leaned forward to get her attention. “You have to do one for me, though,” he added with a smile.

“Deal.” Winslow returned the grin and clicked her pen to write his name.

“Wait, wait. I didn't say no!” Reid said indignantly.

Kiernan looked at him. “Okay, so you'll say the prayer for her and I'll conduct the hymn.”

Reid narrowed his eyes. “Fine.”

“Yay, y’all are the best!” Winslow scribbled their names in their rightful places. “I'll read the scripture myself, so let me go find someone to say the closing prayer.” She stood up and walked away, leaving the boys alone. If neither of them got up, she'd have to come back later to find their remaining volunteers.

Kiernan offered to Reid, “Want to put me down for something?”

Reid looked at him, eyes still narrowed. “Fine.”

Kiernan leaned forward to write his name on Reid's paper, and when Winslow returned, she saw that Kiernan had filled out the rest of his sheet, but she had to make another round with Reid's paper to find someone for his other prayer.

When she left, Reid said, “You didn't even ask Evan if he'd say your prayer.”

Kiernan shrugged. “He won't remember that when the time actually comes.” Reid laughed like he appreciated this tactic, so Kiernan decided to shout, “Hey, Evan, closing prayer?”

Evan gave him a thumbs up and Kiernan returned the gesture. “There,” he said to Reid, leaning back and folding his arms with a cocky smile that bothered Reid and left him in a bad mood for the rest of the class.

At the end of the period, Winslow gathered Reid's things to return them to his cubby. She preferred to keep her scriptures with her for personal study at home, but she had to make sure Reid had his own for class or he wouldn't bother to participate. By the bookshelf, Kiernan was standing with his own scriptures, peeking to see which cubbies weren't claimed already, but they all had labels indicating they were.

“It looks full,” Kiernan muttered when Winslow cocked her head in curiosity. “I guess I should ask Brother Roman where else I can put my stuff?”

“Don't worry about it, just use my cubby.” She tapped her finger on the shelf next to Reid's. Both labels were written in her handwriting.

“You sure? It's like I'm encroaching on all your space today.”

“Pfft.” Winslow waved him off and slid the label out of its plastic sleeve. It read Winslow in tiny, neat print. She took a pen from the cubby, which she kept there for emergencies, like Reid forgetting his own, and added “+ Kiernan” next to her name. She blew on the ink to help it dry, waved it in the air a couple times, and slid it back into the sleeve. “Too late now.” She shrugged and walked away, leaving Kiernan a little dumbfounded.

Later, during a five minute break between pieces in orchestra, Winslow saw Kiernan in the hallway. The orchestra room had large windows, so she could see him long before he noticed her. When he did, she was already standing by the door, arms folded. “Are you here to like… borrow my instrument or something?” She teased. “Share my music stand?”

He blushed, holding up a stack of paper. “I was picking up some copies for Mr. O’Hare. You're in the clear this time.” His voice was rather monotone, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.

Winslow laughed and returned to her seat, waving goodbye and picking up her instrument.

When the warning bell rang on Wednesday morning, Winslow was already sitting at her table in history, reorganizing her notes for the class. Kiernan showed up soon after, sliding his backpack off his shoulder and taking his seat next to her.

“Hey,” he said.

“No textbook?” She glanced up at him.

“It's been two days.”

“Fair enough.” Winslow laughed and closed the little folder she'd designated for this class.

“You don't have to share if you don't want to,” Kiernan insisted. “I can sit with Russ.”

“No, no, it's fine. I don't mind at all.” She slid the textbook between them and smiled, opening it up to the first bookmark she'd made to separate the various class units.

“Okay. Thanks.”

Gwen and Marcella arrived next, then the boys. Russ and Antonio sat down and started watching loud compilation videos on their phones, and Jacob stood in front of Kiernan to chat.

Winslow flexed her fingers, checking both sides of her hands. They looked like the skin was about to start cracking. “So dry,” she muttered to herself, pulling the front pocket of her backpack open and digging around for her little bottle of lotion. Clicking the cap, she squeezed some cream into her hand and set the bottle on the table.

“Hey, Winslow,” Jacob snickered. “That's the same size as Kiernan's d—”

Winslow felt her stomach drop, her cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment.

“What the fuck, dude?” Antonio said from his seat. Russ scowled, too, and Kiernan, also red in the face, was mumbling something along the lines of “not even true…”

Marcella spat, “What, did your mom tell you that? Or are you familiar with it yourself?” Her retort was met with snickers from a lot of the group.

Winslow turned around to pass her friends the lotion, taking the opportunity to hide her face from the boys. Gwen accepted the bottle.

“Come on, it's just a joke,” Jacob said, though he sounded unsure of himself.

“Nope.” Antonio was out of his seat by this point and he pulled Jacob away to prevent him from digging that hole deeper.

“Sorry about him,” Kiernan started as Winslow turned around, sliding the bottle back into her bag. He was interrupted by Miss Foster walking into the room just before the bell.

“Listen up, we have a lot to go over today,” she hollered.

Winslow folded her arms, silently thankful that class was starting. “It's fine,” she mumbled, still unable to look at him.

When the bell rang to signal the end of class, Winslow waved for her friends to go ahead without her. “I need to go to chemistry for prep period, so I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

“Sounds good!” Gwen and Marcella waved and walked away, leaving Winslow alone in the hall.

Kiernan exited the classroom and jogged to catch up to Winslow.

“Hey, Win—” he started.

She whirled around in surprise and stopped Kiernan in his tracks. They were suddenly face to face, barely inches apart.

They met each other's eyes and Kiernan choked out an “Um…” as he took a step back and averted his eyes. Face already heating, he fidgeted sheepishly. “I'm— uh— really sorry about what happened earlier.” He could only meet her gaze for a moment. “We all make jokes like that a lot, but he should've kept it between the guys…”

“Yeah, he should've.” Winslow turned to start walking away, not wanting to relive the embarrassment.

Kiernan followed her. “I think he knows he was out of line, but I'm going to tell him off anyways, I promise.”

“Whatever, it's none of my business.”

“No, it is.”

She stopped and turned around again, raising an eyebrow.

“He obviously made you super uncomfortable,” Kiernan continued. “I don't want that. I think the guys just— I dunno… They like when you give us attention or something… It doesn't matter. I really am sorry, though.”

“I appreciate that you care. It's sweet.” Winslow shuffled her textbook in her arms. She really did appreciate the apology and he sounded sincere, though she still found the moment kind of excruciating.

“I'll tell them to back off, okay? Any time you feel they've crossed a line.”

Winslow scoffed. “Oh? And how would you know if I feel like they've crossed a line? Am I supposed to report back to you like I'm their babysitter or something?” She was much too used to having to ask Reid to keep his friends in line. She preferred to just avoid them altogether.

Kiernan chuckled. He didn't seem to realize it was a genuine concern. “Well, you sorta play with your jewelry when you're nervous. Like you're doing right now.” He pointed at Winslow, and she froze, realizing that she was indeed fiddling with her Young Women's medallion, the necklace she had received for completing a certain set of goals— Personal Progress— through her church youth program.

“Oh,” she said, letting out a small laugh.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Kiernan asked, leaning a bit closer. His eyes did that thing again that made Winslow feel vulnerable, but she tried not to shrink away.

“Yeah.” She smiled at him. “I do feel better knowing he's gonna get scolded, though. Thank you.”

“So scolded, I swear,” Kiernan promised as they walked down the hall together, only splitting up when Winslow got to the chemistry lab. Taking her seat, she found herself wondering if Reid scolded his friends when they offended her, or if he just laughed along with them in secret. She had a small, sneaking suspicion that it was the latter, but she tried to make excuses for him anyway.