The boy stood alone in the pew, painfully aware he’d become the center of attention. He slowly, deliberately tucked in his white dress shirt while ignoring the tears trickling down his flushed cheeks.
He thought his outfit was good enough for mass, but his grandfather thought otherwise. In fact, the old man was so incensed at this imaginary slight, he cuffed him with a rolled-up church bulletin. Right in front of the entire congregation.
The boy stared straight ahead, the eyes of his grandfather and the church weighing on his slender shoulders.
His 18th birthday… it couldn’t come fast enough.
The Weekday One Hundred 