Page 47 of Gay for Pray
He must have seen me at the choir performance and made the obvious assumptions. Unlike Theo, I don’t hide who I am. I never have, and I never will. His father won’t be the first man of his ilk I’ve encountered, and I’ve yet to let a single one of them stop me from being myself.
That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.
Did Theo push back? Did he try to defend me? Or is he secretly relieved to have such an easy, convenient way of avoiding me?
I’ll probably never know. In fact, as Professor Demsky dismisses us, I’m tempted to storm away and refuse to speak to Theo ever again. I never thought this would have a happy ending with how closeted he is, but he could have been less of a coward thanthis.
As much as I want to run, however, this could be my last chance to confront him. Once we’re alone in the hall outside Professor Demsky’s office, I grab him by the shoulder and spin him toward me. He startles. The hall is empty, but doors line both sides of it, and it’s narrow to boot. If anyone is in those offices, they’ll hear a screaming match. I don’t owe it to him, butwhen I confront Theo, I therefore do it in a whisper.
“What the hell is going on?”
He scowls and looks down. I tighten my grip on his shoulder, all but shoving him against the wall. I want to shake the words out of him to get him to admit what he’s done, but hold myself back with gritted teeth.
“It’s…” he says, voice faint, “it’s my dad.”
I expected this, but it still hurts when he confirms all my worst fears. It really was the choir performance then. It really was the mere sight of me being myself, not hiding, living authentically instead of cringing and concealing like Theo.
“Why does your dad get to say we can’t finish a philosophy project together?” I press.
“It’s…it’s complicated.”
Theo speaks at his feet, and my anger flares. If he’s going to let his father walk all over him like this, he could at least look me in the eyes while it happens.
I release his shoulder, but when I set a finger under his chin, he goes as still as a butterfly pinned to a board. It’s a more firm restraint than that hand on his shoulder. When I tilt his head up, he freezes, and the eyes that finally meet mine are wide with terror. I don’t think it’s me he’s afraid of, though. I think he’s far more afraid of himself in this moment. That fear, and the faint flecks of gold in his gaze, cool the edge off my fury. Does anyone know about that treasure hiding in his eyes? Certainly no one else knows how bright it is in the dark, in the heat of the moment, in the throes of something he can run away from, but can’t truly deny.
“Theo,” I say softly, “are you really going to let him do this?”
His eyebrows curl. “I can’t do anything about it.”
“Bullshit.”
He flinches. “He met with Professor Demsky before I even knew it was happening.”
“Then tell her no. Tell her we’re going to finish the project together. It’s a philosophy project, Theo. We aren’t doing anything wrong.”
Except my finger is still under his chin, tilting his face up so he has to look at me, and we both know this project means way more to us than a grade.
“I can’t,” he says, weak and breathy.
I take my hand away, unable to bear the warmth of his skin when I know how fleeting it is. I’ll probably never touch him again, not now that his father has intervened. How could there be anything between us, even in secret, when his father went to such lengths after one look at me standing in the choir?
“You’re really not going to fight back?” I say. “You’re really going to let this happen?”
“There’s nothing I can do, Jude. He…”
“He what? He doesn’t want you working with me? He doesn’t want you anywhere near me? Is that what you were going to say?”
Theo’s flinch is answer enough. The confirmation burns a hole through my chest. The place where my heart should be is an aching, open wound.
“I’m sorry,” Theo says. “I’m really sorry, Jude.”
His eyes go back down, and I fear I may never see them again. That might be it, the last glimpse I ever get.
“I shouldn’t have…” Theo says before trailing off. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done any of this. I should have known this would happen. He’s my father, and he’s a deacon, and I’m supposed to be the one who goes and becomes a priest like he never could, and I knew that from the start, but I still…”
He still wanted me. He still came to my bed when I offered. He still gave in to those desires simmering under the surface.
The struggle plays itself out on his face, and it’s a battle so familiar he hardly seems to notice it. My heart breaks at thesight, but I steel myself against the temptation to comfort him. He could have stood up for himself. I know his circumstances are difficult, but it’s not like I’ve had an easy go of it. Mom and I have had to take care of each other for a long time, and me being queer didn’t make that any easier. Unlike Theo, however, I refused to back down. I stood up for myself. I lived my life out loud no matter who it pissed off.
