"K. D. Wentworth - Born Again" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wentworth K D)

BORN AGAIN
K D Wentworth
My best friend, Harmony, wanted to come over and study, so I called home and asked Jesus what was
for dinner. He said he didn't know and he didn't care. Since he was fasting, he wasn't coming out of his
living room niche, even if Mom baked lasagna, his favorite. I should get my mind on more important
things, he said, like the state of my immortal soul.

Jesus was always going on about souls. If Mom had understood how boring he was going to be once he
learned to talk, she would never have taken out the loan to buy a stupid Son-of-God clone in the first
place. I would have rather had a shiny black Hummer, but I was only two at the time and no one asked
me.

Dad split when I was ten and Jesus was eight, said he couldn't take it anymore. Even at eight, Jesus was
a bit much, bringing home road-kill kittens all the time so he could try to raise them from the dead.

Harmony thought having your own Jesus was creepy, said you might as well live in a church and drink
holy water instead of orange juice for breakfast. But she was Catholic and had to listen to the priests rant
every Sunday about the holy clones biz. You'd think she would have felt connected. After all, it was the
Shroud of Turin that started the whole mess, but she said Protestant scientists dreamed all this up, so we
could just live with it. Even though she was my best friend, she was a pain sometimes.

As for Jesus, he didn't like Harmony either. She was always rude to him and had this spiky black hair.
He said the spikes reminded him of nails, and it doesn't take a brain surgeon to know how a Jesus feels
about nails. Whenever she came over, he would mutter about ├втВм┼Уsuffer the little children├втВмтАв and all
that. Harmony would get mad and point out she was seventeen, not a stupid kid! Jesus would just smile
knowingly, like he wasn't a good two years younger.

After school that day, Harmony and I came in the back door and dumped our books on the table. The
kitchen still smelled like bacon from breakfast, and Jesus had totally ignored the dirty dishes in the sink.
How could he be home all day and never lift a friggin├втВмтДв finger? I can't believe we're still making
payments on him. Mom might as well have burned that money.

I had intermediate trig for homework, while Harmony was finishing her essay on The Scarlet Letter, the
most clueless novel ever written. I'd already turned mine in. So Hester hooked up with the minister, I'd
pointed out. So what? She was young. Why shouldn't she have a good time? Those Puritan dudes
seriously needed to get over themselves.

At the counter, Jesus's eyes were practically crossed as he stared at a glass of water. His acne had flared
up again, and he'd let his hair get long and ratty in imitation of you-know-who. He needed to get over
himself too.

"That water's not going to change,├втВмтАв I said, just to be mean.

"Shut up, Bailee,├втВмтАв he said defensively. ├втВм┼УIt's already turning pink!"

"Yeah, right,├втВмтАв I said.

Harmony flipped through The Scarlet Letter, then stared down at the text morosely. ├втВм┼УEvery time I try
to read this, I want to slap that ho, Hester,├втВмтАв she said. ├втВм┼УWhy didn't she just tell those morons to
go├втВмтАЭ"