A/N Again, I'm sorry for the wait! But I've been writing very lengthy chapters which hopefully pleases you! Also, I did a little research and that thing about Kmart you will get to is actually true.

I promise there will be more Tara coming up. Next chapter is all about her : ) Would love to hear your comments. I skipped two days of working out to have time to write this, lol! xoxo


Pam woke up the next morning and lay on her side motionless for a while. She calmly recollected the previous night's occurrences, something that proved brutally difficult to do. She looked back over it all- from first seeing Mark in the hallway, to getting drinks with him, to going home with him, to everything else that had subsequently followed. She couldn't believe how she had acted. She just didn't do things like that.

She never wanted to see him again. Not even because she would be embarrassed. But because he now firmly held the notion that she was attracted to him, that she wanted to see him again, that she liked him even- all of which couldn't be further from the truth. She may have let him touch her, and part of her may have wanted it, but he undeniably took advantage, and it was only now that could Pam clearly see that.

She then remembered that a part of him was still inside of her. It revolted her. And then came the panic. She had been with women for so long, and then with no one for so long, that this fear was practically foreign to her. Still, she knew what she had to do to rectify it.

She reached over for Tara's journal that was sitting by the edge of the bed. She hugged it against her chest for a little while longer before getting up and getting ready. Her heart was still broken, excruciatingly so, but there were pressing things she needed to take care of as soon as possible.

XXX

Pam walked into a large, local Kmart that was positively buzzing. She would never dare set foot in there for shopping purposes, but it was the closest drugstore to her house. She walked past long aisles that displayed various types of unnecessary crap before she reached the pharmacy in the back. She stood in line for a few minutes at the pick-up section, waiting as other people retrieved their medications. She eventually walked up and saw before her a young, pleasantly plump woman standing behind the counter. She had wispy blonde hair that was swept back to the middle of her head, held in place with a large navy clip. She had a white lab coat on, along with a nametag on her chest that read "Barbara." When she saw Pam, she smiled sweetly and rested her hands on the counter.

"Hi there. What's the last name?" she inquired automatically. Her voice was high-pitched and thin and something about her read as insincere.

"I'm not picking up a prescription," Pam replied. She placed her purse on the counter and pulled out her wallet in advance.

"I wanted to buy Plan B. And some Zantac," she added after a moment. She was supposed to be visiting her family that day and her father suffered from terrible heartburn. He always seemed to be running low on the stuff, so she brought him something whenever she could.

As the woman heard this, her voice rose in pitch and her demeanor became saccharine and increasingly affected.

"Well I'd be happy to get you some of that Zantac," she replied. "I can't help you with anything else though, I am afraid."

"Are you out of stock?" Pam queried.

The woman cleared her throat and smiled again. "I'm afraid I just can't sell that to you," she responded apologetically.

Pam's brow wrinkled. "And why is that?" she pressed.

Pam waited for a moment, looking the woman up and down. It was only then that she noticed the golden chain hanging from the woman's neck, complete with a thick cross that fell just above her sternum.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I can ring up that Zantac for you right now, but if not, I ask that you let me help the rest of the customers who are still waiting in line."

Pam clenched her jaw. She could feel an agitation begin to boil low in her stomach and she drew in a deep breath.

"I am not leaving until you explain why you are somehow unable to sell me what I am asking you for. Especially when it appears to be readily available," Pam asserted.

The woman's smile lingered, though it looked almost painful now with how forced it had become.

"Ma'am, I'm asking you nicely to step aside as I have other people I need to help…"

"And I refuse to until you give me a fucking explanation," Pam retorted plainly.

The woman's eyebrows shot up, thrown by Pam's tone. She realized Pam really was not going to leave without any further elaboration. So she cleared her throat again before beginning to speak.

"All I will say is that… I am acting as… as a conscientious objector," she said quietly, briefly glancing at the floor.

Pam tilted her head and stared at her. "Excuse me?"

"You seem…" the pharmacist started. "Like a lovely woman," she lied. "But I'm afraid that I just cannot…" She struggled to continue. "Cannot sell you something that I find so… morally reprehensible," she murmured.

Pam's eyes narrowed as she glared at her. She knew the people behind her could hear this entire conversation but she didn't care.

"I see…" Pam began. "Well, how about you put aside your backwards, fanatical, and blatantly misogynistic personal views for a moment and do your fucking job?" Pam demanded.

The woman pressed her lips together, trying to retain her unruffled presentation.

"Ma'am, I realize you are upset but I ask that you please not speak to me in such a manner…"

"I'll speak to you in whatever way I want," Pam returned, louder now. She was completely intimidating. Her gaze was piercing and the woman swallowed, unable to look away.

"You are not a doctor," Pam stated quietly and deliberately. "You are not a medical practitioner. You are not here to recommend, validate, or second-guess my need for prepackaged, available over the counter drugs. When it comes to this, you are merely filling the role of cashier, and nothing more."

Pam's tone was callous and mocking and the woman cleared her throat again as she heard this.

"I've already said what I needed to say. Please let me help the rest of those who are standing in line," she urged.

"Please get me what I'm asking you for," Pam spat back hastily.

"I really don't want to have to call the manager and have you escorted out…" the woman mouthed feebly.

"Oh no, please do call him!" Pam exclaimed. "I'd love to ask him why one of his employees is refusing to sell me a drug that is clearly available while she defends her behavior with some bullshit, irrelevant excuse that makes me question why she took this damn job in the first place."

The woman was incredibly flustered now but was still trying her best to hold her ground.

"There are plenty of other stores you can visit if you wish to purchase such a…" She stopped herself, as if even uttering the pill's name was a sin itself.

"Well I'm here," Pam riposted. "And you still haven't given me one valid reason to go someplace else, so I'd very much appreciate if you could get over yourself and do what I am asking."

"I have given you reason enough already," the woman stammered. "There is no need to repeat myself…"

Pam was now seething. She was nowhere near in the right mood or mental state to deal with this right now.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I don't need-" Pam hissed.

"You should be thanking me!" the woman interrupted squeakily, unable to stop herself.

"Come again?" Pam demanded with wide eyes, utterly baffled.

"I-I seem to be the only one concerned about… the one who is truly concerned about the sanctity of your soul. And for that you ought to thank me," the woman blurted.

"What the fuck?" Pam breathed.

"If you can't understand how I cannot be a part of the ending of an innocent, deserving life, because you made some foolish, shameless choices and cannot properly deal with the consequences-"

"JESUS CHRIST!" Pam hollered, her blood now boiling.

She leaned in towards the woman as close as she could. Her voice became breathy and subdued in the most terrifying way.

"Listen, you self-loathing, theocratic, insufferable maggot-"

As furious as she was, it was as if everything she had ever been angry about in her life was surfacing in that moment, and she could feel herself spinning out of control.

"You know what? I will fuck whomever I want, whenever I want, however I want, and it's none of your goddamn business. I don't give a shit if you think I'm the most vile, deviant, murderous slut you've ever seen in your life. You know why? Because you are too fucking brainwashed to recognize what a completely asinine, spineless lunatic you are. So how about you give me the fucking drug I am entitled to because it's the FUCKING LAW?!" she roared.

"I am not legally bound to sell it to you if I don't wish to!" the woman shrieked.

Pam glared at her in confusion, her chest heaving and her heart racing.

"She's right," said a man who eventually joined the woman behind the counter, standing beside her.

It was the manager of the store. He was an older man with wrinkled beige skin, dark-rimmed glasses, and a balding head. He stood there calmly and patiently and looked straight at Pam.

"Ma'am, I can tell that you are clearly very frustrated and for that, I am sorry. But we at Kmart have a policy that allows our pharmacists to decline the sales of any medications to which they object on moral or religious grounds so long as they direct the customer to another pharmacist or employee in the store who can make the sale. Unfortunately, no one who is willing to do that is working at the moment, so perhaps it would be better if you tried again another time…"

"This is absurd," Pam uttered as she turned her gaze up to the ceiling. She had no idea what else to say because this was all so unbelievable.

When she finally looked around, she realized that the entire store was staring at her. She knew she was in the right, that these people were religious nuts. But she was still humiliated. There was nothing else she could do. Nothing to do but leave.

She stood there, fighting back tears and gritting her teeth so hard it became audible. After a moment, she sucked in a breath and finally turned to walk away.

"You'll thank me later," the woman called out sympathetically to Pam's turned back. "I'll pray for you."

It took everything in Pam's power to not turn around and lurch at her and claw the woman's eyes out. She ignored everyone's gapes and glowers as she moved towards the exit. The walk took what felt like an eternity, but she eventually reached the automatic doors, which promptly slid open.

She got inside her car and didn't move. She stared past the dashboard as she felt a couple tears burning in her eyes, still desperately trying to escape. She lowered her head to gaze into her lap and held still for a moment.

And then, suddenly, she screamed. At the very top of her lungs, she screamed so loudly and so harshly that it made her throat a raw, blistering red. The tears in her eyes now slipped down her cheeks and her lips trembled. She sat there for a while, unable to think of a single good thing in her life anymore.

XXX

She eventually turned the engine on. She drove a few miles down Route 37 and picked up the pill at a CVS. She had no problem this time purchasing it, but this didn't make her feel any better. Still, when she swallowed it with a sip of water she felt a huge amount of relief course through her. She then called her doctor to schedule a blood test the next week. She couldn't wait to put all of this behind her.

She went home and cleaned for a while. She started in the kitchen, wiping down the stove, sweeping and mopping the floor, cleaning the inside of the refrigerator, and reorganizing the pantry. It kept her busy and was a comfort to see dust and old, sticky grime wash away with every movement of her hand. She read on the couch for a couple hours when she was done, and then picked up some groceries before getting ready to go to dinner at her parent's house. She put on a coral Ayden double-crepe dress that just reached her knees. There was a black zipper at the side of the dress that went all the way up past her hips, and the sleeves covered her shoulders and the tops of her arms.

The bruising around her neck had faded significantly, but she rubbed some concealer over them until they were imperceptible. She pulled her hair back into a pinned bun and applied enough make up for a fresh, natural look. Her mother had a tendency to be highly critical of her appearance, so she always put on something nice for her visits, making sure it also covered her chest and thighs.

She drove thirty minutes down the freeway to a neighboring town. She was not looking forward to seeing everyone, but she knew if she skipped this time she would never hear the end of it. The driveway was full so she parked along the road and locked her car. She walked to the front door and rang the doorbell. Her family's home wasn't enormous, but it was large enough to have once raised four kids in it.

Pam's mother pulled open the door a few moments later.

"Oh, there you are. You're late," she muttered.

"Sorry," Pam murmured unconvincingly.

Her mother was stocky and around 5'5. She had on a floral knee-length dress that wasn't the most flattering, as it was a little too tight in the bulgiest areas of her body, but she had a pleasant face. Her hair was a faded auburn with a few strands of grey here and there. After taking in Pam she turned and walked down the hallway.

Pam followed her into the living room where the rest of her family was. Her father was sitting on the couch reading World Magazine. His hair was a balanced mixture of silver and white, and while he had a bit of a gut underneath his blue and white striped shirt, it wasn't hard to tell that he used to be quite fit. He was still quite handsome, and he sat with his legs crossed as one foot tapped sporadically against the carpeted floor.

Sitting around the room were some of Pam's siblings. Pam was the oldest and she had two younger sisters and a brother. One of her sisters lived in Georgia, having moved there for her husband. The other, Tabitha, was here with her husband George. Pam's brother Lucas was 23 and he was the youngest of the bunch. He sat on a leather recliner with his hairy legs spread in a wide stance, looking down at his phone. He was on the scrawny side and was almost as anti-religion as Pam was. He had just graduated from school and was living at home until he could find a job, which was not going to be easy as he didn't tend to apply himself. Pam had occasionally tutored him over the summers, but it really was a waste, especially when all he wanted to do on break was hang out with his friends and be a typical, rebellious idiot.

Pam sat down beside her father, who briefly patted her on the knee as he continued reading. Lucas was playing a game that was on mute and Tabitha was having a side conversation with her husband. Pam sat there for a few moments, adjusting her dress and smoothing her hair with the palm of her hand. The silence was awkward for her, but she much preferred this to so many of the conversations she tended to have whenever she was here.

A few minutes later her mother emerged from the kitchen.

"Dinner's ready," she announced.

Everyone eventually filed into the dining room and there they saw a lovely home-cooked meal before them. There was a large pot roast and green bean casserole in the center of the table and it smelled wonderful. Around this were thin, white plates, small glasses, and gleaming silverware.

They all took their seats, with Pam's father at the head of the table. Pam sat across from her mother and in between her sister and dad.

They began to pass around bowls and dishes and filled their plates. Lucas was about to bring a roll to his mouth, but his mother smacked his wrist hard and he dropped it reluctantly. Pam scooted her chair closer in and soon felt her sister reaching for her hand. Everyone joined hands and Pam grudgingly bowed her head. She was the only one who kept her eyes open, and she turned her gaze to her father who soon began to pray.

"In Thee, o God, we live and move and have our being.
Thou didst create us, and Thou dost uphold us, and without Thee
We are nothing. We bless Thee for this food, the token of
Thy continued care for us. We take it as a gift from Thy hand
Of love, and we pray Thee for wisdom, that we may spend
The strength it gives us in ways that will please Thee best.
For Jesus' sake. Amen!"

"Amen," repeated the rest of the family.

Pam repressed an eye roll and reached for her glass of water. She took a sip and looked down at her plate. It wasn't the healthiest meal, but dinners here never were, so she always made the conscious effort to consume smaller portions. Silverware clacked against plates as everyone began to eat.

"So why haven't you been in here in so long?" Pam's mother asked as she cut up her roast.

"Just been busy with work," Pam replied.

It wasn't a blatant lie- she was busy- but she also knew she couldn't be entirely honest with her. That would mean letting everyone know that not only had she been living with one of her students for the past few weeks, but that student also happened to be a woman, who also happened to be Black. Perhaps the statement would sound so ludicrous coming out of her mouth that no one would even believe her, but Pam knew better than to even joke about such a thing.

"You're always busy with work," her mom retorted. "That doesn't mean you abandon your family."

"I'm sorry," Pam said quietly. "Won't happen again, all right?"

She wasn't in the mood for an argument tonight. She was prepared to say whatever she needed to in order to avoid one.

"How's Reverend Ashman?" her mother queried.

Pam swallowed a mouthful of green beans. She had become so adept at lying that at times, she could convince even herself that she was telling the truth.

"He's doing well. Gave a lovely sermon the other day," she answered.

"On what?" her mother inquired.

"Glorifying God in all things," Pam replied without missing a beat.

Her mother nodded. "Good."

Her mother was quiet for a little while as she continued to eat, but soon had another thought.

"You know, I was hoping that maybe the reason you hadn't been coming here for a while was because you had finally started seeing someone..."

Pam chewed her food slowly as she studied the tablecloth.

"No, Mom. I'm not seeing anyone."

And it broke her heart to say that out loud, because she knew that this no longer was a lie.

"This is getting ridiculous, Pamela," her mother declared as she set her knife and fork down. "This has been going on for too long. I just don't understand how Adam was able to find someone new within a year and a half and yet you are still alone after over a decade! I know you said you had boyfriends in California, but how long did that really last? And we never met any of them! Do you know what the women at church are saying about you? What people are starting to think about you now? And that reflects badly on me, on all of us. You really are being selfish. You know I thought I'd have at least three grandchildren by now," she muttered, shaking her head.

Pam furrowed her brow. "Mara has three children, what are you talking about?" she returned.

Her mother scoffed. "Mara's kids are animals. And it's because that husband of hers is as dim as they come. I knew he was hopeless the moment I met him."

"It's better than that Mexican kid she started dating," Pam's father uttered with his mouth full. "Remember that? I wanted to have that FOB deported as soon as I could."

Pam clenched her jaw and held her tongue. She had tried on multiple occasions to challenge some of the deep-seated prejudices her parents held, but it was always to no avail. She had learned over time to stay quiet, because usually these comments were simply passing.

Pam's mother shook her head. "Still, every time they visit and I see them all, I can't help but think that if God had to make one of my daughters barren, it should have been Mara instead."

"Mom!" Tabitha breathed, her eyes instantly filling with tears.

Tabitha had learned a few years ago that she couldn't have children, something that had devastated her and George both. They were currently trying to adopt, but it was a far from easy process and was something their mother was not nearly as enthusiastic about.

"Anyway," she continued, looking at Pam. "You're the one with the brains. I want my grandsons to become doctors or ministers. Something to make us proud. And you've got the looks too; God love her but Mara is not good for much, is she? I'm telling you, if you don't do something soon, everything's going to be shut down there. You keep sitting around and nobody's going to want you at all."

Pam gripped her knife tightly and bit the inside of her lip. She knew that being away so long meant the conversation would be all about her, at least in the beginning, but she still didn't like it.

"So how are the neighbors?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

Her mother scoffed. "Patty Miller's daughter is pregnant again. Can you believe that? That girl cannot keep her legs closed for the life of her. You'd think she learn her lesson the first time. Now she's never going to finish high school. Well, it wouldn't do her much use anyway."

Pam cut her roll in half and stayed quiet, sorry that she asked. Thankfully, the ensuing discussions didn't revolve around her anymore, so she was able to eat her meal in peace, only adding the occasional comment so as not to seem totally disengaged. When they were finished, she, Tabitha, and her mother cleared the table and cleaned the dishes while her father and Lucas sat in the living room.

When they were done, Pam and Tabitha joined them while their mother heated up a sweet potato pie for dessert. When it was warm enough, she dished slices out for everyone and they ate it a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Pam had lost her appetite a while ago, but she had a few bites to be polite.

"You wanna come to church with us tomorrow, Pammy?" her father asked.

"Oh, I can't, sorry Dad," she answered.

Her mother shook her head. "You don't want to right now anyway. The place is full of strangers now. It's ridiculous."

"What do you mean?" Pam queried.

"Lydia…" her father warned.

"What?" she stated as she stared innocently at him. "I just don't understand it."

"Understand what?" Pam asked.

"The church… " she began. "It's been 'expanding.' And I don't understand why those people are coming to us. It's not like they've been invited. What gives them the right to show up like that? Maybe there isn't any more room at the church."

"What people?" Pam pressed.

Her father set his empty plate onto the coffee table and loosened his belt.

"There have been some families from Clinton coming over recently," he explained. "Their local church recently had a fire and they're in the process of rebuilding it."

It took Pam a moment, but she eventually understood the situation. Clinton's population was largely composed of African Americans, and as she quickly reviewed her mother's comments, she realized exactly what was going on.

"They won't be here forever, Lydia," Pam's father reassured her. "Why don't you relax?"

"I just don't understand why they felt the need to come here. They clearly don't fit in with the church. And it's like they're not even trying to get to know anyone there. They just barge in unannounced and act like they own the place."

"That's not true," her father countered. "One of the women complimented you on your dress last week. And then tried to have a conversation with you. But you told her you couldn't stay and chat, remember? And Reverend Tanner told us a few weeks ago that we might be getting some new folks visiting for a while. You just don't remember."

Pam's mother shrugged this off.

"Do they even like coming here? I mean can they even sit the whole time? I thought at their churches they spend their time jumping up and down, shouting, sweating, and I don't know, taking off their clothes or who knows what else. Acting like a bunch of animals."

Pam's heart was beginning to pound inside her chest. It was building again, that potent rage she had felt earlier that day at the pharmacy. Her mother's ignorance had always bothered her, but now Pam was taking it personally. Hearing all this made her think of Tara and it was triggering a whole other level of disgust and indignation within her.

"That's enough, Lydia," her father cautioned. He wasn't offended, but he could tell that Pam was and he didn't want to start an argument.

"What?" her mother protested, not understanding what the problem was. "I'm just saying. I'm afraid they are going to get stir crazy one day. Who knows what will happen then? I don't want the church being damaged. I don't know what these people are really like. Maybe that fire at their own church was self-made. Maybe they were going a little too wild one day. Could have been part of some tribal ritual or something," she said as she shrugged.

"For God's sake, Mom!" Pam finally hollered.

Her mother's eyes widened. She turned to glare at Pam, her expression now deadly serious.

"We do not take the lord's name in vain in this household…"

"I don't give a shit!" Pam exclaimed. "Would you listen to yourself?"

"Lower your voice," her mother warned.

"No," Pam retorted. "Fuck this. Fuck you. I can't sit here and listen to this shit anymore."

"Pamela…" her father cautioned.

"What is wrong with you?" Pam cried. "I can't take this anymore. Enough. Jesus Christ, enough."

"You watch your tongue!" her mother spat, shooting up to standing.

Tabitha and George sat on the couch completely bewildered, and Lucas was actually looking up from his phone now.

"I can't do this anymore, Mom. I can't take it."

"Take what?" her mother demanded.

"You!" Pam answered. "Dad. All of this. I'm sick of it!"

Pam's father now stood up, and his expression was becoming frighteningly threatening. He had a volatile temper, and it didn't take much to get him to snap.

"I will not tolerate this, Pamela," he urged.

"Oh fuck off Dad. You're just as bad as Mom," Pam uttered.

"Wrath is a sin!" her mother shouted. "And you were taught to never disrespect your parents like this!"

"Oh no, you want know what I was taught?" Pam bellowed. She could feel herself about to go on a huge tirade but it had been building up inside of her for so long that all she wanted to do was set it free.

"I was taught to hate myself," she began. "To feel guilty for the things I did and the thoughts I had. I was taught to be ashamed of my body, to be ashamed of sex, of thinking about it, of having it, of wanting it, of enjoying it. I was taught to shame others because they didn't meet your hypocritical, policing, and obsolete standards and expectations. I was taught that my largest purpose in life was to serve my man, regardless of if he treated me like complete shit, which he did, to stand by him regardless of whether I loved him or not. I was taught that I am essentially worthless as I am now, alone, that somehow my life has less value and meaning. I was taught to feel guilty for making my own choices, for feeling pride in my own accomplishments and work, instead of thanking some irrelevant higher power for it. I was taught that only those who worship your God deserve true joy and love, now and in their afterlife. I was taught to vilify and dismiss certain kinds of people for absolutely arbitrary reasons that you cannot defend except through drawing from your archaic, futile, and utterly incongruous sources. I was taught to exercise and preach 'God's will' as an excuse to ridicule and control others. I was taught to feel entitled and consecrated at the expense of others. I was taught all of this while being preached to never judge or hate when that's all you fucking do. I hated my life here, and I hate coming here, and I don't know why I still do!"

Pam was panting as she finished, suddenly feeling dizzy and unstable. Her mother stood there immobile. She was furious and she was devastated. She was positively stunned.

"You don't mean that…" she mumbled. "You are just being spiteful, Pamela. Don't let the Devil steal your goodness. This is not you."

"It IS me, Mom!" Pam screamed. "The only time I'm not me is when I am here! I haven't been to church in almost twenty years! I haven't prayed a single prayer since I was fifteen. I don't believe in God, and my childhood was absolutely miserable because of you. I left for California because I couldn't be around you anymore! Coming back here was the worst mistake of my life."

Pam's mother stood there with her mouth open. She was now so hurt that tears were brimming in her eyes. Her father looked incensed and the rest of her family was speechless.

"Get out of my house," her father growled.

"Gladly," Pam answered. She grabbed her purse and marched towards the door. Her father followed her while the rest remained where they were, paralyzed.

She pulled open the front door and glared at her father. Just before she was about to turn around and leave, she remembered something.

"Oh and by the way," she hollered down the hallway, ensuring she could be heard. "I'm also a lesbian."

A palpable, suffocating silence immediately spread over the entire house. And with that, she walked away, slamming the door hard behind her.