As much fun as she'd had with Foxy, and as much as she knew she would have been a mess had she gone to class, Theresa knew that she shouldn't have skipped class the other day. She felt bad enough to go to confession. The problem was, she wasn't even sure she wanted to confess what she'd done, whether it was wrong or not...and there was her problem. As much as she wanted to have someone to talk about this with, she couldn't think of one person to tell who wouldn't look at her strangely.
She sighed as she opened the heavy door of the church and slipped inside, finding a pew and sitting down. What was the point of trying to have fun if you were always confessing something you did wrong?