"Yeah, him," Isaiah answered woodenly. "The one that was also a deacon at our church. After you-" He swallowed hard. "After you left on your mission, he cornered me while I was walking home from school one afternoon. Said he'd tell Dad the whole thing was my idea if I didn't go along with it." He curled his fingers tightly around his beer can, heedless of the protesting crunch of metal.
"It didn't stop til I left for college, and I still didn't feel like I was running far enough," he said, his mouth suddenly very dry.