Page 21 of Love Hate

The abrupt change of subject caught me off guard and it was a struggle to keep my gaze from dropping to my lap. This was why he’d really wanted to see me. He didn’t give a fuck about Trevor’s paper. No one did. Everyone in this school just wanted him to make grades and play football…no matter how that happened.

“I’m sorry,” I said, holding O’Shea’s gaze. “Is there a reason you’re asking?”

“I’m Monsignor of this school,” he reminded me. “You’re looking for a degree to join the seminary program and become a priest. You might consider it my duty to know why you’ve chosen this path.”

“To give my life in service to God isn’t a good enough reason?”

“Not in my experience,” he answered softly. “It’s far more common that young men come into this life as a way of hiding. And I’m just curious if maybe you’re running from something.”

My heart started hammering in my chest and I said a prayer that my nervousness wasn’t visible on the outside.

Did he know?

I mean, as the head of a college, even a Catholic one, he probably witnessed quite a bit from his students. I couldn’t be the first gay kid to come through, and I doubted I’d be the last. Was it just that obvious?

“Sir,” I said. “I was raised Catholic. I’ve attended multiple masses a week since before I could walk to a pew on my own. I’ve read and studied the Bible since I learned to read. If you’re under the impression that I’ve come to this decision lightly, blindly or any other way than through my faith and the calling in my heart, then I’m afraid you’ve misread my situation.”

“No, Andy, I don’t think you chose this blindly,” he assured me. “But I also want to impress upon you that callings change. God works in mysterious ways isn’t just a pretty saying. He truly does. And sometimes he puts things in our path not as a test, but as a gift. And it is up to you and your heart to decide which it is when that happens.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

Trevor Hix was not a fucking gift. He was, without question, the testiest test that had ever been tested. And I wasn’t going to fail again.

“Okay,” he said. “Then off you go. I’m sure you have work of your own to do.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, getting to my feet.

“Andy,” he said before I could turn away. “If you ever need to talk, I’m right here.”

“Thank you, sir,” I repeated before heading out into the empty hallway.

Monsignor O’Shea was right about one thing, I did have work of my own I needed to do, but instead of heading back to my apartment, I found myself wandering across campus to the chapel instead.

The church was empty when I walked inside, which wasn’t unusual for a Monday evening, but I was grateful for it anyway.

I slipped into a pew in the back and lowered the kneeler, assuming the position with my hands folded against the back of the bench in front of me.

Like Faulkner, I didn’t even try for organized thought. I just let out a stream of consciousness into the heavens as a makeshift prayer, since I didn’t even know what to ask for or what to apologize for.

I allowed every memory of my tumultuous history with Trevor to surface as it wanted to, in no particular order, and not forcing myself to censor any of it. God already knew the worst of it anyway.

“If he’s a gift, I’m going to need you to tell me your return policy,” I muttered. “Because I never wanted this. I didn’t want any of it. And I don’t want him.”

Except that wasn’t true. I was sitting in church lying to God. Because I did want Trevor. I wanted him in ways that I didn’t even totally understand. And if I allowed myself to be honest for just a moment…I always had. It wasn’t just physical. Caitlyn was right. I was obsessed with him. And that scared the hell out of me.

But had it scared me so much that I’d done as O’Shea suggested and run to the church to hide?

I didn’t think so.

I’d thought about becoming a priest since I was a child. It seemed like such a romantic life. Studying theology and arguing philosophy. Questioning the premise of the entire world. Owning and understanding faith at the deepest levels. When I considered priesthood like that, it brought a sense of peace to my soul that nothing else did.

That wasn’t running from something. It was running toward it…wasn’t it?

“I don’t suppose I could just ask for a sign, could I?” I asked, looking up toward the vaulted ceiling as if God were really going to answer me.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out to see a text from Trevor, asking me to meet him at the football field in fifteen minutes.

“You’ve got a fucking wild sense of humor,” I complained, glancing upward once more before getting to my feet and heading back out into the cool October air, wishing I’d brought a jacket with me as I trudged toward the football field.