“‘Up to vile passions,’ blah blah. I know the passage.” Someone gasps when Bo interrupts. “It’s about adultery, not homosexuality in the context of committed partners. You can’t put us through a year of scripture class and expect us to learn only the convenient parts.”
I wish Bo had a mic so she could drop it right there. I clap my hands for two seconds before I realize what I’m doing. Bo catches my eye and sucks in her lips like she’s trying not to laugh. Then my stomach drops as I realize everyone’s looking at me now. Hunter claps a few times, and I think since we’re sitting so close people assumed it was him who clapped first. Bless Hunter. I’ve never wanted to hug someone more.
“Ms. Taylor, you have five seconds to sit down, or you’ll be escorted to the principal’s office,” one of the teachers on the edge of Bo’s pew scolds as he stands up.
“You don’t have to escort me.” Bo walks out of the church on her own.
“You okay?” Hunter whispers when the priest starts talking again.
I nod. I’m better than okay. Bo knows how to contextualize things for me. She’s right. The Bible says a whole lot of things that the Catholic church kind of just ignores. Why get so hung up over this one detail? I can’t explain why, but I feel like I’m floating.
We start lining up by the confessionals, one pew at a time. Some people leave looking relieved, and some leave crying, which is super intimidating. It tells me I’m not the only one here who’s carried their body weight in shame. I’m done with that, though. When Cesar comes out, he looks like he’s about to throw up, and I wonder if he’s sick today. He hasn’t been looking too hot since we got to the chapel.
When it’s my turn to confess, my legs don’t even shake as I walk inside the confessional.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” I start. “This is my . . . um . . . I don’t know how many confessions I’ve done. But it’s a lot.”
The priest chuckles and welcomes me to confess.
I think about telling him I’m gay. It’s the first thing I always confess when I do this. Priests are among the few people I’ve ever uttered my secret to, since they’re sworn to secrecy. But something in me tells me not to this time. I tell him about hurting Bo’s feelings, and getting drunk. I confess all the things I feel guilty about.
But liking girls? I feel like I can be okay with that part of myself, or at least try to, even if others can’t. There’s no point in hating myself over it. Penance is to say a bunch of Hail Marys. I’m sure I’ll get to that eventually.
After school, I rush outside to meet Bo and make sure to give her the hug she deserves. She stiffens up a little, so I back off and clasp my hands behind my back. She isn’t much of a hugger, I guess.
“What was that for?” Her lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile.
“Um . . . just because you’re awesome.” Unlike Bo, I don’t try to hide my smile. I think we’re about to have a “moment” when Cesar walks past us without saying anything. That’s when I notice that Jamal’s car is pulled up to the curb. I sigh. Jamal puts Cesar first so much that he’s ditching the last half of school to pick us up. I already told him to stop leaving early to pick us up, but I’m not his mom, so I can’t force him. Besides, he’s got so much other shit going on right now that I can hardly blame him for not putting school first.
“I gotta go.” I reach to give Bo another hug but stop myself, since she tensed up the first time. And now I don’t know what to do with my outstretched hand. I blow her a kiss before I realize how gay that is. “Ciao!” I say, because straight Italian people blow kisses, right? God, I’m the worst.
I jog over to the car before I can embarrass myself any more.
“Things are going well with Bo, I see?” Jamal says as I climb into the back seat. He’s discreet enough to wait for the door to close before letting out a laugh.