“Ain’t that the thing… ‘fake’, I don’t know if it is fake? I meeeean,” Lyra flapped her hand like she could knock the answers outta the air like a fly. “She does think he was sent by God, and he even said he was here because God wanted him to be here, and he is a saint so in that sense, not fake? But I also don’t think he’s what mom thinks a saint is. But she been spending a lot of time with a group of very intense women from church so…” Lyra shrugged, and flopped down onto her back on his bed with a deflating sigh. There were stars on his ceiling here, too, and despite complicated mom feelings, they yanked at her crush and she couldn’t help but smile at them. She was far away from that mess, for a while, maybe she didn’t need to obsess over it here.
“I dunno,” she said, rolling her head to the side to look at him. “I’m glad I’m here with your mom who just looks at me like a doll that needs a makeover instead. Is she gonna insist I dress for dinner? Like in a actual dress?”