Cosima sat cross legged and slouching back against a pew in the church she'd grown up attending. She'd been going since she was adopted at one and while she wasn't a speck of religious, she was fascinated by the human development of religion and it's constant ebbs and flows. It was interesting how it would expand and contract with the laws of current society; like, how they ignored the parts of bible that told you to stone people to death because they had grown morals as humans but refused to move past gay marriage as unacceptable when clearly it was based on the necessity of procreation in the early days. Her church was actually pretty cool about that, on that note. I mean, they weren't offering her dates with their daughters but they weren't threatening her with hell, either. They just accepted her as one of God's children and moved on with it. It was rad, as churches go.

She was hardly listening to Father Dominic as he was repeating a verse that she'd heard already during the same sermon he gave once a year. She'd been fascinated by it once, but she all but had it memorized at this point. She knew most of them like the back of her hand at this point, but she came for the atmosphere. She'd always been something of a closet art nerd, even if her real talent lay in Biology, so she spent a lot of time admiring the stained glass and ancient architecture of the building. Then, of course, coming kept her foster mom happy and when everyone came together in prayer or song, it was a decent sense of community.

The majority of her time, however, was spent people-watching. Watching good little blond catholic families who came to look good's fathers sneak out on 'business calls' or the mothers who would disappear to get their kids something but really just go light up a cigarette. She watched the humble families who truly came to worship and the older people who came for God and something more precious at their age- companionship. She knew she didn't fit in with her slouchy red sweater dress, net stockings, or her dreads, but people knew her; they'd never taken the time to stare. So, when she felt eyes watching her for the majority of the mass, she couldn't help but glance back curiously while people rose for their communion.

Cosima met eyes with the new girl who she had heard about through the chatter of old women before mass. She was her age-

"Oh, Cosima. Have you met her yet? She's in your grade at school-"

"Margie, they just settled in. She hasn't started school yet!"

She was French-

"Oh, I heard her father speaking to the Father! Didn't understand a single word!"

"I heard they're from Paris. They moved for a job."

What the tittering old women had failed to mention was the fact that the girl was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Her blonde curls hung just over her shoulders and her wide honey eyes revealed that she'd been caught staring. Cosima smirked and the girl ducked away, blushing. Cosima was instantly pulled up to get her communion and by the time the last song was sung, she'd lost the french girl. Oh well. There was always next week.

Delphine was tired- too tired to be dragged to a mass at nine AM, jet lagged, that her parents would hardly understand a lick of. She went in with the bad attitude and it must have shown because her mother insisted that she keep her translations to herself- "Reeleejuhn eez about ze feel, Delphine." They were nearly the last people into the church before it started and she was already starting to dread being the new kid as a few old women whispered and glanced at her family. She had the hunch that would be happening plenty more in her near future. When she quickly lost interest in whatever the man up front was spewing, her eyes instead settled on her surroundings, without moving from a proper sitting position. Maman would kill her if she showed her blatant boredom outwardly. She took inventory on the people around her. Mostly old people. She was surprised, if she were being honest, that they all seemed quite normal. All the stereotypes of San Francisco freaks seemed to be lost inside the church, although she'd seen a few on the drive over.

Delphine's eyes quickly landed on one girl that stuck out from the pastel dress shirts and cardigans. She looked like- well, she looked like a punk. Her posture was horrendous, making her seem even smaller than her stature already suggested. For some reason, Delphine felt herself attracted to the carelessness. Her eyes traced from her high-heel combat boots, over her skull-print scarf, and up to the profile of her gorgeous smile as she laughed at something one of the women said to her. Delphine felt a strange pang of jealousy, as if she wanted to be the reason the girl was smiling. She tried to drag her eyes away but she couldn't. There was something enrapturing about her nose ring and big glasses and the way she sat there like she was giving you all of her attention but had bigger things going on in her head.

Delphine shook her head slightly, trying to dislodge thoughts of basically undressing the girls with her mind, thinking about that slightly tanned skin and that she wanted to see more. The girls appeared worldly and young and she felt herself compelled to be a part of that. She had never really considered her sexuality before and she surely should not be doing it in the middle of a church. Gladly she would go to hell for that girl she thought, and then, what a strange thought. She was not gay, she had had plenty of boyfriends, all of which she had dumped in boredom. Well, maybe that should have been a sign but then again she knew sexuality was fluid. Maybe she was not attracted to girls but she was attracted to this girl who-

This girl who was staring back at her! Delphine's eyes went wide as the girl turned to make eye contact with her. She finally understood the ramifications of that term as her whole body felt the gaze of those brown eyes. She'd been staring too long and she felt her face heat up as she ducked her head away. When she popped up later, the girl was lost to the crowd and then immersed in a very off-key verse of a song; one that she could sing along to if she would look down at the lyrics rather than oggle this poor girls ass.

As soon as mass ended, Delphine grabbed her mother and got out of the church and to their car. She had enough on her plate between a new school, a new home, a new country, and her very lightly English speaking parents. She certainly did not need to be considering her sexuality right now! But still, she couldn't shake that gaze from her thoughts. She shivered lightly at the memory in the back of her parents' car. Oh, she was so screwed.