The Miseducation of Cameron Post

by Emily M. Danforth

I didn’t feel close to God at the Presbyterian church, but some Sundays I felt really close to my memories of being at church, at this place, with my parents. And I liked that feeling.

I just liked girls because I couldn’t help not to.

Maybe it was a little like flirting, but also a kind of protection: Don’t get too close; I’m just jokes without substance.

“You couldn’t ever get this into a picture,” I said. “And you’d miss it while you were trying to.”