Page 23 of Gay for Pray (Arport Sacred Sacrament University #1)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jude

A BUZZ OF ANTICIPATION fills the church on Sunday.

It permeates the halls behind the chapel and filters into the practice room where the liturgical choir restlessly awaits our performance.

Mass will go on as usual today, but it will last nearly twice as long so we can pepper in extra songs to regale the friends and family who’ve arrived for this special occasion.

I myself have no family or friends here, aside from Nick, I suppose. There’s no way Mom could make the trip out for this. We don’t have the money for that, though she did text me last night asking for the link to the live stream.

The same can not be said for Theo.

He paces in a corner of the choir’s practice room.

I haven’t seen him stand still for even a moment since arriving.

His whole family will be here, likely right up in the front row.

His deacon father will watch most closely of all, analyzing every second of the performance.

Even I feel the weight of that on my shoulders, but it must be doubly hard for Theo, on whose shoulders rests not just this performance but an entire future that his father mapped out for him before he was even born.

A future I’m despoiling every time he’s in my bed.

Theo never truly responded to my prodding on Friday night. He stayed, but left early the next morning, saying he didn’t have time for even a cup of coffee. Too far behind in his classes, by his own assessment, though I suspect he’s a week or more ahead in all of them.

The second he left, I felt the separation, a wall slamming down between the guy who taps timidly yet eagerly at my door and the guy I’ll encounter in public.

That wall stands between us more firmly than ever as we await our choir performance, but I catch his eyes and offer a reassuring smile regardless.

Theo’s answering expression is watery and brief, barely a flicker.

My heart drops, but I don’t push it. He’s only going to freak out more if I approach him in a crowded room. By everyone else’s estimation, we’re bitter enemies, and I’m sure Theo wants to keep it that way.

I hang out with Nick instead, who’s nursing a hangover and none too happy about the extra hour we’ll spend here.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” he says with a groan.

“It’ll be fun once we get to perform,” I say.

He grumbles, but doesn’t complain. I’ve seen him perform when we were in high school. I’m sure he’ll light up the way he always does when given a stage.

“Need more coffee,” he says, even as he sips from a Styrofoam cup from the cafeteria.

“You’re literally drinking coffee.”

“Yes, but it’s not good coffee, and there isn’t enough of it.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics and settle in to wait.

There’s not much else we can do, which gives me far too much space to worry about Theo.

I find my eyes drifting back to him as he heads with purpose for the door.

For a crazy moment, I think he might actually run, the anxiety too much to bear, but he glances at the director and mutters “bathroom” before he hurries out.

Every instinct screams for me to follow.

I physically grab the edges of my chair to keep myself seated.

I can’t run after him immediately. I have to hold back and play this the way Theo needs me to.

The stakes are far higher for him with his family being here and everything; all I’m contending with is a bit of heartbreak, and what’s new there?

I shake off the bitterness fast on the heels of that thought. Theo has his whole future to think about. I’ll meet other men in my life, at least in theory. I’ve got less on the line. I’m just a sacrilegious loser who doesn’t belong here in the first place.

“Hey, you okay?”

I startle at Nick’s voice. I completely forgot about my best friend sitting beside me, too caught up in the whirlwind of bitterness and desire and fear swirling around my head and heart.

“Fine,” I say. “Just need the bathroom.”

It’s been long enough, I think, I hope, so I jerk to my feet, give Mr. Jones a nod and head into the hall.

I have no idea if I’ll actually find Theo out here or if he went looking for an empty room to freak out in, but I head for the bathrooms regardless.

If I see him, I see him. If not…perhaps there will be time to see him later, after this is over.

I reject that immediately. Everything is so uncertain with Theo. I never really know if our next interaction will be our last, and this day is more fraught than most. Looking his father in the eyes with me standing only a couple feet away in the choir could actually scare him away for good.

“Fuck,” I mutter at myself, expelling a shaky breath.

The bathrooms are just around the corner, and I haven’t encountered Theo. I’m on the verge of losing hope when I round that corner and spot him exiting the restroom.

He freezes when he spots me, and I go still as well, scared he’ll bolt if I make any move at all. He’s so stiff and brittle he looks like he might shatter from a breath.

“Hey,” I say to try to break the tension.

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t run either, and I dare take a step closer. When he stays put, I close the distance between us, leaving enough space that if someone came around that corner we’d look like any two people accidentally running into each other.

The hush in Theo’s voice reveals that we are far more than any two people.

“What you doing?” he says as though afraid someone could overhear us out here.

We’re tremendously alone in this hall at the very back of the facility, but I know even that isn’t enough space for Theo. Nothing but the locked door to my bedroom will suffice to strip down his walls and reservations.

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” I say. “You looked kind of anxious.”

He huffs something vaguely resembling a laugh, but so scared and bitter it’s hardly recognizable. “Yeah, you could say that.”

I reach out on instinct before thinking better of it and withdrawing my hand. “It’s going to be fine. Really. It’s just Mass. We do this every week.”

“My dad isn’t here every week.”

“I know, but we’re still singing like we always do. It’s the same as every other Sunday.”

Theo is shaking his head before I finish. “My dad isn’t going to watch us perform and then quietly go home. There will be questions, and if he suspects a thing…”

I hear everything Theo dares not say. If his father suspects he’s messing around with a guy, especially a guy like me, there will be hell to pay. I don’t know how far Theo’s parents might go, and the fear in his voice makes me afraid to find out.

I can’t stand it anymore. I move forward, boldly wrapping him in my arms. Theo flinches, but surprises me a moment later by sliding his arms around me and squeezing me against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into my hair.

“It’s okay,” I say, even though it’s not, even though this sucks, even though I want so desperately for it to be different. “It’s going to be fine. You’re going to do great, Theo. Your dad won’t have anything to complain about when he sees how amazing you are.”

He responds by holding me more tightly against him and breathing deeply, as though inhaling the scent of my hair.

I cling to his shirt like I can carry him away from all of this, but this goes far deeper than I can fix in a couple weeks of hooking up.

This is Theo’s entire life, a pressure he’s borne since his first breath.

I can’t undo that with a hug, but perhaps I can show him that he’s not alone, that no matter what happens today someone will be here to catch him.

I’m a fool for giving so much to a man who can’t give me the same in return, but I’ve never been very good at using my head to deny my heart. There’s a big hurt barreling toward me because of the choices I’m making right now, but that sure knowledge isn’t enough to scare me away.

“Theo,” I start.

Then he shoves me away so hard I almost trip over my own feet. He goes stiff, just like he was back in the practice room, any relief I might have granted him vanishing in a blink. I barely have time to be confused before I hear Mr. Jones’s voice behind us.

“There you are,” the director says. “It’s almost time. You boys ready?”

“Yes, Mr. Jones,” Theo says immediately. “I was on my way back.”

I have my back to the director, my heart breaking all over my face as I stare at a Theo who’s a complete and total stranger, a Theo so closed off he might as well be made of ice.

I swallow, clearing my throat, gathering my voice, trying to find the strength to play the game Theo needs me to play.

His eyes flicker to me for an instant, a plea in those brown-gold depths, and I steel myself.

I knew this was coming. I knew this was part of the deal.

It’s ridiculous to get upset about something I understood as inevitable from the very first second.

“I just need to use the bathroom real quick.”

I’m speaking to Mr. Jones, but my eyes remain trained on Theo, searching for any glimmer of closeness or humanity. He looks away, refusing to meet my gaze and dashing my hopes in the process.

I nearly throw myself into the bathroom. Mr. Jones promptly forgets about me and focuses on Theo. Of course he does. I’m a spare voice, a heathen who doesn’t belong in this church in the first place. Theo is the one destined for something bigger.

When I rejoin the choir, Mr. Jones ushers us into the church. It’s filled to capacity, people standing along the sides to flank the full pews. It’s the most crowded this place has ever been, but even when I take my place shoulder-to-shoulder with Nick and the others, I couldn’t be more alone.