Chapter Text
“I’d rather live outside, I’d rather chip my pride than lose my mind out here. Maybe I’m a fool.”
— Seigfried by Frank Ocean
“Sammie’s gone and got herself a lil’ boyfriend,” were the last words uttered in the house that evening.
Plates and forks had been nicely laid out on the table, freshly rinsed, water droplets falling onto cloth. Honey for the biscuits was out, even though Mary didn’t allow it — tucked innocently next to the butter and three separate jellies. In the center of all of that: a steaming ham.
Dinner, while Sammie was over, was a special occasion.
When Stack and Mary first agreed to let her stay with them, there was no food in the couple’s shabby apartment to begin with. Though, even when the three started to save their money and fill the fridge, dining together simply didn’t seem to work. They’d all have no time.
Waking the house up to the smell of mac and cheese and green beans, Mary had been sure they’d have a pleasant family moment.
Then they came out. Groggy in a twin way: both Stack and Sammie rubbing their eyes with a pinky. The cousins were becoming more alike by the day.
Stack sent his woman a bright smile, eyes wide and on the plates of food. “What you was doin’ in here, girl?” He asked, quick to skip down the hallway and into the kitchen.
“Woke up before y’all,” Mary answered with a shrug. “Felt inspired.”
Sitting at the chair that faced their TV, Stack eagerly grabbed a plate. “I hope you feel inspired all the time, possessed by Chef Boyardee.”
“Ain’t that the man on the can?”
Stack was already gnawing on ham. “I’on know who he is, I just know he a chef.”
As Mary laughed at him, he turned his attention toward his cousin. Sammie stood at the end of the hallway with her face to her phone. He couldn’t help but notice how well-together she looked. Her hair was done, gelled into two low ponies, as if she'd never gone to sleep at all.
“Come eat, cuz,” Stack called out. When Sammie looked up, her eyeshadow glittered under the ceiling light.
“I can’t,” she snipped. “I gotta get dressed. I got plans tonight—work. I got work tonight.”
Both Mary and Stack caught her stumbling.
“You can still grab a plate, there’s always time to eat.” His voice wasn’t as patient as his words.
Sammie shook her head, oblivious and insistent. Then she turned on her feet into the bathroom and finished getting ready. Her voice echoed through the walls as she sang to herself. Mary forked at her own greens.
They tried to continue their meal, but Stack could no longer stomach it. He hated liars, but he hated that Sammie couldn’t trust him to tell the truth most, and it built a sour tower in his throat.
His baby cousin slipped through the door in a hurry, dressed in some intricate thing going on. She wore a blood red sweater and a plaid midi skirt to match, finished off with a plethora of jewelry and chunky brown heels. Sammie was the fashionista of the family for a reason.
He watched her leave without even a wave.
Mary must’ve felt a similar disappointment. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and started tidying up.
That’s when she said it, her voice carrying a sigh. “Sammie’s gone and got herself a lil’ boyfriend.”
۶ৎ
Sammie’s cross bounced wildly around her neck, hitting the bottom of her chin ever so often. The dark red fabric of her skirt stretched over her thighs, exposing her as she clenched and dripped onto leather.
This was only Sammie’s second time in Remmick’s car. Her man’s hand was shoved under her skirt, sticky-wet fingers circling her clit after he’d slipped them out.
“Oh– enough, boy.” Sammie’s hips bucked. Remmick had been going at it for a minute. Had her up against the backseat, dipping his fingers inside and fucking her until her legs began to shake. Then he’d pull out, playing with her as she calmed down; keeping his girl at the very edge.
Normally, she wouldn’t protest. However, in normal circumstances, she would be in Remmick’s bed or her own — not some theater parking lot.
“You gon’ make us miss the movie…”
“I’ll miss whatever just t’ see you squirt once, baby. C’mon, lemme see something good now.”
She whimpered. “I don’t wanna cum out here, Rem. I— I’ll make a mess.”
Slipping his fingers back inside, Remmick hummed knowingly. “You better,” he said. His face was tucked into her throat now, sniffing her, as he started taking her like that again. Sammie yelped, her belly twisting with heat — and she splattered wet over Remmick’s palm.
“There you go.” His whispers seeped through her skin. “Squeezin’ me tight, my songbird. So sweet, is this all for me?”
He nudged a spot that had her jerking up. “Huh? All mine, angel?”
Sammie moaned and nodded.
It wasn’t sinful. She stayed clean and still got closer to her boyfriend. She wasn’t dancing with the devil. Not yet; not like that.
The night was great, almost cinematic. Made Sammie feel real grown when she’d declined Stack’s call to finish her post-date ice cream. She got mint chocolate chip. He got plain vanilla.
Sammie could best recall what happened before Remmick dropped her off: their handsy goodbye; his firm grip on her backside, parked in the driveway as they rubbed against each other.
The movie ended up forgettable at best.
۶ৎ
The following morning, Sammie went to church with a white dress and a bad feeling.
Stack was slowly turning into a churchgoer after the death of his brother, and even though Sammie didn’t want to be Preacher Girl forever, she worked hard to support her cousin’s grief. They’d gone to the church up the road together for the past few Sundays.
As Sammie was getting dressed, however, shoulder-to-shoulder with Mary who was rushing for work — she found she couldn't stop adjusting her gown.
“Man, is y’all decent?” Stack’s voice carried through the door as if there was no barrier at all. “How many times I got to say service starts at nine?”
“You don’t gotta say nothin’ to me, Stack,” Mary groused. She was feeling a mixture of emotions, probably, with missing both work and church.
“I do got somethin’ for you, but I’m savin’ it to bring up with God instead.”
Mary’s eyebrows shot up, freezing with one arm through her sleeve. “Oh yeah? What’s that supposed to mean, boy?”
“I mean I got a few things to say ‘bout that tardiness. Don’t go gettin’ fired now, baby. This the fourth time.”
Sammie bit her lip so she wouldn’t smile. For Mary, having the last word in any discussion was a requirement. She opened the bathroom door while her blouse was still halfway off her body and scowled at Stack.
“Whatever you have to say, I have to hear.”
“I told you, I’m bringin’ it up with God! Go on and finish getting dressed.”
“Keep tryna be funny, Stack. Keep tryin!”
They were all out of the door by 9:25. The rain slowed them down thirty more minutes.
Sammie and Stack missed fellowship, which was more fortunate than not. The cousins hated the townsfolk asking them nosy ass questions under the false guise of small talk, anyway.
The church smelled like old wood, sunlight catching the dust in the air as it slipped through stained glass. Sammie followed her cousin up to their seat, smoothing her dress down for the third time. They were singing like birds, the choir.
After they slid into a pew halfway back, Stack bowed his head and clasped his hands together, head turned to the sky. He always started with that first. Talking to Elijah. No matter how late into service.
Sammie felt rough, ripped denim brush her knee. She didn’t pay it no mind at first, fiddling with her thumbs as she watched Stack pray — until it grazed her skin again. This time, it was more purposeful; obvious.
When Sammie turned, her curious gaze became startled as she met Remmick’s wicked one. He had a pair of rugged overalls on. Gripped tightly in his hand was an umbrella, opened indoors. He smiled at her before licking his teeth.
“Mornin’,” he whispered, already facing forward again, bible atop his lap. He hadn’t asked if the seat was open.
Sammie’s mouth dropped and she pushed Remmick out of the pew, dragging him away just as Stack cracked open an eye.
“What are you doin’ here, fool?” Sammie questioned, once they’d made it to the back of the church. There was a small porch for them to stand on, tucked between two floral walls and a large door. She could only hope it was enough for privacy.
Remmick’s grip on his umbrella seemed to tighten when Sammie swayed toward the exit, impatiently waiting for a response.
“S’pose I had to see you myself today,” he answered with a shrug. That’s when Sammie clocked it — Remmick sounded… almost drunk. Like his mouth was full of saliva, dehydrated.
“You look pretty today,” he added. “Real pure.”
Sammie’s lip curled even as butterflies fluttered in her ribcage.
“Nobody tryna look pure…” she muttered with a pout, kicking pebbles from up under her heel. Sammie couldn’t stay mad at him, she wasn’t even sure if she’d truly been angry to begin with. She was mostly shocked. Anyone would be — if their two home planets collided, at the worst place and time.
Remmick tilted his head, studying her like she was the one acting strange.
“Did I do something wrong?” He asked quietly. “I just wanted t’ see you. Thought church’d be safe.”
Safe — the word landed wrong. “You can’t just show up all willy-nilly,” she said, softer now. “This ain’t your place.”
He smiled then, sharp yet patient, rain rattling against the door. “They let me in, anyway.”
Nudging the umbrella shut at last, Remmick grazed a sharp nail along Sammie’s thigh as he turned. “C’mon now. You don’t wanna miss the Word.”
She hesitated only a second before following him back inside.
The teaching for the week regarded hedonism.
“Don’t eat what you don’t need,” their pastor stated into the microphone. Then he let his words soak in and simmer, before repeating them with a shrug. Like he was revealing the formula to life, but it ain’t really matter to him.
“Don’t eat what you don’t need. It’s as simple as that. And if you think I’m talkin’ about food? You’re not listenin’ close enough.”
Stack sat silent next to his cousin, jaw tense, eyes focused on the pastor strolling on the stage.
“They say, in Matthew 6:24—can I hear Matthew 6:24 from y’all?”
The crowd echoed back the passage, bibles in hands. Sammie’s were sweating, squeezing together rhythmically. Some folks were fanning themselves with pamphlets or hats; she could’ve really used one of those.
“—Amen. Now, in Matthew 6:24, they say ‘no man can serve two masters.’” he swiveled on the platform, making sure he caught the eye of every churchgoer in the room. “‘For either he will hate the one, and love the other… else he’ll hold to the one, and despise the other.”
Tapping his mic to his shoulder, he let the silence settle in again. But Sammie wasn’t settled, no, she couldn’t be. For the reason that Remmick, now seated behind her and, was uttering every word alongside Pastor. Same cadence; same devotion. Uncanny-like.
They both ended on: “Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”
Remmick sank back into his seat, satisfied with himself somehow, as the old gentleman on stage continued to preach. “Now, what y’all think they mean, ‘mammon?’ That’s not just money, see. When somebody ask me, ‘oh Pastor David, what that mean?’ I always tell them…”
He trailed off, charming the crowd to lean in from their chairs. Then, he smiled at his own answer before he gave it.
“Yourself,” he said, to which hums of agreement followed. “You can’t serve God and yourself. You can’t serve God and pleasures. That’s talkin’ wealth, talkin’ food, talkin’ the grift.”
Pastor spun around and finally met Sammie’s lost eyes. “That’s talkin’ love, too. Relationships. Lust, temptation, all the sort.”
Her heart cinched in her throat. It was like God was talking through him, using Pastor as a vessel to reach Sammie directly. Her mind couldn’t stop trailing to her movie date with Remmick last night, how she’d let him touch her.
How she’d known it was wrong but let it happen regardless.
“True, lasting satisfaction… You can’t get that here on Earth. Not from no woman, not from no man. Definitely not from no money. Real fulfillment comes only from God.”
Stack hadn’t looked at her until that moment, glancing at her long enough to clock the stiffness in her shoulders, before facing forward. The pastor’s voice rose and fell between them like tidewater.
“You good?” He murmured.
Sammie nodded too fast. “Yeah.”
When the service ended, folks rose slow, stretching and smiling, reaching for one another. Remmick stepped aside to let his girl pass first, hand hovering near her back but not touching.
“Will I see you tonight, birdy?” He asked, just between them. Outside, the rain had stopped, but Remmick was still toying with the latch of his umbrella. Stack watched his baby cousin entertainin’ the white man by the steps.
She bit her lip, unsure, but: “Yeah, you will.”
Once Remmick finally disappeared, Stack nodded to her. “That man real religious?” he asked.
Sammie opened her mouth. But, she ain’t know. She was beginning to realize she knew nothing about him. “I think so.”
Stack drove them both home, blissfully unaware of how the words from inside the church clung to Sammie like heavy fog.
You can’t serve God and pleasures.
What would the pastor have said if Sammie asked, is to serve God only to suffer?
۶ৎ
Sammie tore up the apartment after service. She needed a better outfit. Something that wasn’t pretty; wasn’t pure. When she stepped out into the living room and asked Mary if she could check her closet, the house exploded.
Mary turned in her seat at the end of the couch, pointing the remote at Sammie with a suspicious squint. “Girl, what the hell would you need my clothes for? You been dressin’ up for that grown man and now you wanna wear grown clothes.”
Just as Mary was saying all that, though, Stack turned around from the other end. The volume of both their voices drowned out the TV. “What’s wrong with your own shit?”
They kept talking, and Sammie kept holding her breath, unable to respond for a long moment.
“Sammie, I’d give you my closet. I would! But I just needa know where you’ll be at in my fabrics.”
“Nah, don’t give that girl nothin’ from your drawer. She can wear that dress, she’ll be a’ight.”
“She clearly ran outta clothes for her man, Stack. I’ll just give her somethin’ small, somethin’ cute.”
“Aye, man, you already said it yourself. That’s grown folk clothes.”
“…Who are you callin’ man?”
Sammie interrupted before the couple began arguing with each other. “It’s too cold for this dress. The rest of my clothes is dirty.”
Mary leaned back, lips pursed, watching Sammie like she was a puzzle missing pieces. Stack settled back into the couch, relieved his woman's attention was off of him.
“You shoulda thought about that before you went out.”
Sammie paused. “What you mean?”
Her cousin caught her eye then, briefly, before turning back to the muffled television. That was enough for Sammie.
“Oh,” she said. “So y’all talkin’ about me.”
The side of Stack’s face frowned. “Ain’t nobody talkin’ about you.”
“But you told her,” Sammie pressed. She wasn’t mad yet. Though, more now than ever, she needed to leave. “You told her about Remmick.”
Stack shrugged, overly casual. “She found out, same as me.”
Mary crossed her arms. “And see I don’t care that he white, you know that. I just don’t want you playin’ grown before you ready.”
“I ain’t playin’,” Sammie muttered.
“Then why don't you wear your own clothes?” Mary shot back, not unkind, only tired. She was rubbing her temples now, even though her real headache was in front of her. “Why you rush out the house every time your phone ring?”
After a rigid silence from Sammie, Stack sat up and turned. “We just tryna look out for you.”
“I didn’t ask for that,” Sammie said. She didn’t mean for it to come out as sharp as it did, taking a step back at the sound of her own voice.
She reached for her jacket on the armchair. The one that was really Stack’s; he’d gifted it to her the night she moved in—when Sammie was shivering with no coat or shoes on the winter road.
Mary and Stack watched her pull her phone out, bristling at the same time.
“I’m just gon’ step out.” Sammie wrapped her scarf around her neck with a low sigh. “I’ll be back.”
Even as she tugged the door open, her head ducked down like she couldn’t make eye contact, Stack called out to her.
“Aye!”
Sammie looked back, the cool air of the hallway biting her legs.
“When you come back, we still here.”