Mr. Hawkins ignored her and looked at Leah. “Yes, Leah. Catholicism is a form of religion. You’re correct. Now tell me about being Catholic.” He smiled encouragingly and pushed up his thin wire-rimmed glasses. He tugged down one of his sleeves from his white polo shirt. His bicep muscle flexed, momentarily, and then it relaxed as Leah spoke up, falteringly, “Uh…I guess…I give confession.”

“Purgatory!” Scott yelled out laughingly.

“Yes, Mr. Lorrells, but there’s more to Catholicism than purgatory. There’s so much more to religion than Catholics. Tell me something more class, please.”

Kellan looked at me, long and hard, and then spoke up, clearly, “It’s the intellectual battle for a soul.”

Everyone was shocked, just as myself. The Bradens didn’t talk in class discussions. We weren’t called on, and we were never even required during a class reading. And now, here Kellan spoke up, our leader.

After another beat of silence, Mr. Hawkins gathered himself and rasped out, “Yes, Kellan, but I was looking for something more.”

Kellan shrugged. “It’s the idea of where the soul goes after death. It’s about if the soul can be corrupted during life or not.”

“And what do you think?” our teacher challenged.

Kellan smiled tightly and glanced sideways at me. “I think everyone’s already corrupted, but there are some who don’t agree.”

Mr. Hawkins caught the glance and trounced eagerly. “Shay, what do you think? Do you think souls can be saved? Not corrupted?”

I was furious with Kellan, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I was caught off-guard, “I think souls are just a prize to some. I think they can be saved, yes.”

Both Giuseppa and Vespar turned around in their chairs, wide-eyed, as they looked at us, at me. I refused to flush underneath their scrutiny. Kellan had baited me for a specific reason. I wasn’t going to back down.

“Do you think they’re worth being saved?” Kellan challenged me further.

Everyone in class listened raptly. Never had a battle between the Bradens, much less Kellan and myself, been publicized. A pin dropping could’ve been heard in the silence between our dialogue.

“Am I worth being saved?” I asked him, no one else. I didn’t care the class could hear.

Kellan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but he replied, monotone, “Any soul has a choice, Shay. What do you choose?”

I grinned faintly. “Do I choose hell now and heaven later? Or do I choose heaven now, for the pleasure, and get hell as my reward? What would any sane person choose?”

“But that’s the issue of this discussion. No one is going to choose hell first. Everyone wants the easiest, the quickest. Everyone wants to be gratified now. You know they’re going to choose heaven first.”

“And get hell as their reward?” I asked lightly, a little hoarsely.

“That sounds like my diet,” one girl exclaimed.

“Bethany!” Mr. Hawkins laughed, a little relieved from the intensity in the room. “What does your diet have to do with our discussion?”

“Nothing, really, but it’s the same,” she piped up brightly. “I can choose to eat Dunkin’ Donuts now—heaven—or choose to eat my one serving of cottage cheese—hell—to get heaven later. What do I want to choose? The donuts, of course. What should I really choose? The cottage cheese.”

“Is that what you want, Bethany?”

“Hell no. I want to lose ten pounds, but those donuts taste like heaven.”

“It’s called discipline!” one of the boys shouted out cheerfully. “I might want to get laid now, but I’m hoping heaven is all sorts of sex!”

Another boy laughed. “That’s got nothing to do with discipline, Kent. That’s called rejection.”

“Well, if you’d put out, Brian, I might go to hell right now.” Kent laughed good-naturedly.

The insults flew between the two. Before long, the class had separated into their own conversations. Mr. Hawkins was called over to a table for personal questions, and it was soon chaos in the room. That was, until Kellan suddenly spoke up, another first—to initiate a discussion—when he asked, “What if there wasn’t heaven or hell? What if it’s all to play with our minds?”

Silence descended the room. Everyone turned toward Kellan and then to Mr. Hawkins, who narrowed his eyes, pushed up his glasses, and folded his arms. His toned arms bunched underneath his shirt as he asked me, “What do you think, Shay? The two of you seem like you’ve put the most thought into this. Do you think there’s a heaven and hell?”

I closed my eyes a moment. I felt my siblings’ gazes. I felt their own intensity at what answer I’d give. And then, as my tattoo started burning again, I opened my eyes and stared right into my brother’s authoritative gaze. “I know there is.”

“Well.” I felt Mr. Hawkins’ excitement at an actual debate, especially one between two Bradens. “Can you explain more on your matter-of-fact statement, Shay?”

“Yeah,” Vespar scoffed. “Those are big words coming from a high school girl.”

Someone sucked in their breath. Someone else whispered, “Holy cow.” Never had a Braden called out another Braden.

I felt Kellan’s anger brimming beside me and knew it wasn’t directed toward me. I also saw how Vespar glanced at his older brother, but he didn’t backpedal.