Page 45 of Gay for Pray
“If you’re losing focus…”
“Leave him alone, dear,” my mother says. “He’s a college student. I’m sure he has a ton of work he has to do.”
“He handled it fine last year,” my father says.
“Last year he was a freshman. Every year it gets harder, doesn’t it, Theodore?”
I nod, accepting the lifeline. My courses don’t actually feel much harder than the ones I took as a freshman, but claimingI’m exhausted from studying is way better than trying to explain I’m stressed about falling for a guy.
Falling for. Shit. That’s the first time I’ve thought about this as anything but some weird physical urge I’m too weak to resist, and what a time to contend with that.
As though he can read my internal conflict on my face, my father says, “Howhaveyour studies been going this year?”
“They’ve been going well,” I say, trying my hardest to sound confident. I’m not sure I actually manage it. My father’s scowl doesn’t soften, and any hope I’m harboring withers.
“Well, the performance was wonderful,” my mother says, sweeping in to deflect yet again.
From the way my father’s frown deepens and my mother barrels on, I get the impression I’m witnessing a fragment of an argument that took place during the drive out here.
“It’s so special getting to get to watch you perform, Theodore,” Mom says. “This church is absolutely beautiful. What a lovely way to celebrate Mass. Thank you for inviting us.”
I shrug. I didn’t really invite them; the school did. They simply announced they’d be attending, and I accepted it. At the time, I considered it a nice opportunity to see them in the thick of the semester, but that was before my life became complicated in ways I couldn’t possibly have fathomed.
A strange part of me wants to tell them, or at least my mother. As she smiles at me with real joy and pride in her eyes, a piece of me yearns to reveal my secret to her. Maybe it’s the gentleness of her smile and the memories of her doting on me and my sister while we were growing up. I struggle to imagine her pushing me away if I had a chance to explain how kind and good Jude has been.
Then I switch my gaze to my father’s scowl, and any thought of revealing this thing with Jude dies on my tongue.
“It has certainly been an…interesting performance,” myfather says.
Something in his pause twists my stomach into knots. His eyes flicker toward the choir box, specifically to the far right of the choir box where Jude stands. I’m all the way at the top left, so there’s no mistaking where my father’s eyes have drifted.
My blood goes from cold to absolutely frozen. My heart stops beating.
“I did assume this university’s choir would have higher standards for its participants,” Dad says.
My mother’s persistent smile falters. I clench my teeth to keep from screaming.
“That boy,” my father says, and there’s no doubting who he means, “it’s certainly…curious to see someone like that in a liturgical choir.”
He dresses up his words in a guise of civility, but I have no doubt about what he really means. Jude stands out, even when we’re all dressed in our Sunday best and doing the exact same thing. The choir can’t hide his difference, especially from someone like my father.
“He’s a good signer,” I say.
My father’s gaze sharpens. “I’m sure there are plenty of other good singers at this university who could have taken his place.”
“He had to try out like anyone else,” I say.
“So you approve of him joining the choir?”
I flounder, torn between wanting to defend Jude and needing to keep a certain amount of distance from him so my father doesn’t make the wrong connections.
“If Mr. Jones thinks he should…” I answer noncommittally.
My father scoffs. “This is a holy place, Theodore. It’s about more than whether or not you can sing.”
I duck my head, unwilling to argue, but hating myself for it. After everything Jude has done for me, after all the kindness and patience he’s shown me, after the times we’ve shared, I owehim better than this, but speaking up on his behalf could mean the end of my time at this university. If my father thinks I’m anything but disgusted by someone like Jude, he could refuse to help me pay for school, and I have no idea what I’d do. There’s no way I could find that kind of money all of a sudden.
“That boy is your partner for your philosophy project too, isn’t he?”
