Page 30 of Gay for Pray
“None of that,” he says gently. “You have class later, don’t you?”
I blink. I’d completely forgotten about class. Jude bursts into light, free, tinkling laughter. He steps away, and cool air rushes over my body in his absence.
“You are amazing for my ego,” he says. “You actually forgot about class?”
“I…”
“Well, thank you for the confidence boost. I’m not sure I’ve gotten a compliment this good in my entire life. I’ll talk to Nick and see when I can kick him out of the dorm. Apparently he had a good time at the party, so hopefully he has somewhere to go, and we can have the whole place to ourselves.”
He drags his finger up my chest, stopping at my sternum.
“Then I can give you a real education,” he says with a wink.
My body burns, but I tamp it down. I don’t know what he’s implying, but I’m pretty sure I’d say yes to anything he proposed.
“Let’s get out of here before they come back,” he says.
After a glance to make sure we haven’t left anything incriminating behind, we finally leave the supply closet. I’m weirdly sad to go. It’s a charmed space now, like a confessional booth, something private and sacred, something you don’t share with anyone else. The thought of people going in there to grab music stands bothers me in a way it shouldn’t.
Perhaps it’s my lack of experience. Jude is far more nonchalant as he leaves the practice room, checking the hallway before waving for me to follow. We use a side door instead of going back through the church, since we know there are at least two other people here. When we step outside, I feel like that guy in the sci-fi show, an explorer venturing out of the safety of my ship and into an alien landscape. The whole world feels different now, the air sweeter, the sun brighter, the birdsong happier.
“I have to get going,” Jude says, “but I’ll text you.”
He leaves me with that and a tiny smile, and my heart soars like I’m singing a hymn.
Chapter Seventeen
Jude
A DRONE OF CONVERSATION buzzes through the cafeteria. Tables fill a huge open space, the lanes between them leading to the big open kitchen at the back.
Nick and I weave between tables and students and staff, joining the line snaking through the kitchen. We each grab a tray, filling it as we go with heaps of lasagna and spoonfuls of questionable vegetables. I snag a piece of cake on my way to the register, where I swipe my student ID. Why not? I’ve been having one of the most surreal and good weeks of my life. I deserve cake.
Nick cocks an eyebrow at the cake when we steal the end of one table otherwise occupied by a chattering group of freshmen. It’s nice sitting near the younger students. They tend to ignore upperclassmen, glancing at us from the corners of their eyes and hoping we never bother to notice them.
“Cake, huh?” Nick says.
“What? Can a man not enjoy cake?”
“It’s just unusual for you,” he says, spearing the lukewarm lasagna the cafeteria is offering as its dinner entree.
I do likewise, more to buy myself time than to enjoy the food. There isn’t much to enjoy, but cafeteria food is included in the room and board fees, which means it’s free for me, and that’s a price I can’t pass up. Especially after that feast I bought for Theodore. I won’t lie, that little breakfast spread hit my bankaccount in a way I’m trying not to think about, but even as I subsist on crappy lasagna, I can’t say I regret it.
“I had a good week,” I say by way of explanation. “I’m celebrating.”
“It’s Wednesday.”
“I’m celebrating early.”
Nick sets his fork down. “Okay, seriously, what’s going on? I’m out of the loop, and that’s downright rude. I thought we were friends.”
I sigh. I was planning to ease into this conversation, but I guess Nick isn’t going to give me a choice. And by “ease into,” I mean delay as long as possible. The party was Saturday, then I spent Sunday with Theodore in my room and saw him again on Monday for that improbable hookup in the music room. I’ve had almost two days to tell Nick about any of this, but I’ve avoided it until now.
“I need a favor,” I say.
Nick’s incredulous eyebrow rises higher. “Okay?”
“Is there any night this week you might be…busy? Maybe…you’ll be busy all night?”
