My Favorite Sin

by Lina Langley

  He puts his hand on the scar between his eyebrows.

  “First time I ever got in a bar fight,” he says. “Five stitches.”

  “Five?”

  He smiles. “They did a good job,” he says. “Didn’t they?”

  “Yeah,” I reply. “I’ve never noticed it before.”

  He nods, taking a sip from his own coffee. “I know,” he says. “They did an amazing job with the stitches, especially because I’m such a baby. I couldn’t stop moving, you know, even though the doctor kept trying to keep my head in one place. I think she literally had to hold my head in place, though I might have blocked that part of it out.”

  “Because you were drunk?” I ask, tilting my head.

  “No,” he says. “Because I was ashamed.”

  I smile at him as I finish my coffee. “That’s silly,” I say. “And they did do a very good job, especially if you were squirming.”

  “Yeah,” he says. “Do you want to touch it?”

  My heart starts beating fast when he asks me that. I don’t know if I should say no, but before I can, I’m holding out my hand. He grabs it and his fingers are soft and warm as he guides my outstretched finger toward his forehead. His skin is soft and cool to the touch, and as I touch his forehead, I can also touch strands of his dark blond hair.

  He takes a deep breath before as I’m touching him. His eyes are open and he’s watching me, his gaze right on my face as I trace the outline of his scar. It’s very small, only about an inch, and I could have removed my hand from his face a while ago.

  I should remove my hand, but I don’t. Instead, I trace the outline of his face with my fingertips and he leans into my touch. His face is soft in my hand, his eyes closed. He opens his eyes and looks right at me. He swallows as he looks at me. “Alex…”

  The moment he says my name, I feel like my hand is burning. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice quiet.

  “No,” he says. “You don’t need to apologize to me. I—I need to talk to you about something.”

  “What?” I say.

  He licks his lips. “I haven’t always been entirely honest with you,” he says, then laughs quietly. “I’ve never been honest with you, in truth.”

  I narrow my eyes and cock my head slightly. “Are you going to start now?”

  “Yes,” he says. “But I’m, fuck, I’m worried about what’s going to happen when I tell you the truth.”

  “No,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. We don’t normally touch, so I think I startle him. “No, nothing bad is going to happen when you tell the truth.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know that,” I say. “But look, I came to pick you up, and we’re friends. Whatever is going on with you, I’m sure I can help you figure it out.”

  He laughs, no humor in his voice. “You’re always so fucking helpful, choirboy,” he says. “Even helpful when I don’t need you to be.”

  I look him up and down. “Do you not need me to be right now?”

  “I—I don’t know,” he says. “This feels out of my control. It feels out of your control, too, which scares me.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Why? Everything is out of my control,” I say. “Literally all the time.”

  “Yeah, but you pray,” he says. “And that helps. Right?”

  “Sure,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. “That helps sometimes.”

  “I could try that, I guess,” he says, more to himself than to me. He looks away from me before he speaks again. “Fuck, sorry, I keep putting off telling you the truth.”

  I raise my eyebrows and wait for him to say something else. Whatever it is he’s so afraid of, I wish he would just spit it out, because he’s making me nervous. “Look,” I say. “Let’s sit down. Forget about breakfast. This is clearly an important conversation that we need to have, so let’s go to the living room and talk about this, okay?”

  He nods. I start walking toward the living room and he follows me. We sit down on the sofa, as far away from each other as we can. He rubs his hands together, something I’ve noticed he only does when he’s very nervous or upset.

  “Alex,” he says, looking away from me. “I don’t think I even know where to start. I guess thanking you is the best way.”

  “There’s no need to thank me—”

  “You keep saying that,” he says, holding his hand up to stop me from talking. “But you’re wrong. I have more to thank you about than just coming to get me out of the drunk tank. Like… you’re always there to listen to me, even when I’m being a dick.”

  I smile at him. I think I’m blushing a little. “There’s no need to thank me for that,” I say. “You’re easy to tune out.”

  He laughs quietly. “I know you’re always listening,” he says. “That’s the weird part about our… friendship, or whatever this is. You’re always great, even when you’re being a dick to me.”

  “Aw,” I say. “And I thought I was doing such a good job defending myself.”

  “That’s what you want to think,” he replies, raising his eyebrows. “But… you shouldn’t have to defend yourself and I definitely owe you an apology for that.”

  I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Don’t be silly. I mean, we’re roommates, I assume I’m going to get on your nerves sometimes.”

  “YougetonmynervesbecauseIhaveacrushonyou,” he says, so quietly I have to strain to hear him.

  I lean forward, my brow furrowed. “Say again?”

  He rolls his eyes, leaning back on the sofa. “Oh, please,” he says. “Don’t make me saying again. That was already hard enough. You heard me.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t—I couldn’t really process what you were saying,” I reply, furrowing my brow. “You have a crush on me?”

  He leans back on the sofa and groans. “God, you’re such an asshole.”

  “What did I do?”

  He scoffs. “As if. You can act all innocent if you want, but you heard me perfectly well, and now you’re just torturing me. Isn’t that a sin?”

  “I’m a sinner,” I reply, winking at him. “Also, no, not torturing your roommate isn’t anywhere in the bible.”

  He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face. “Clearly, it needs to be updated.”

  “Someone should get on that.”

  Montgomery sighs deeply. “Anyway,” he says. “I feel better, so… thank you for letting me vomit my feelings all over you. Especially when it’s about you.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “It’s whatever,” I say. “You have a crush on me. So what? Those come and go. You’ll get over it once you meet someone you like better.”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but then he shuts it, and his entire face darkens. He swallows and nods. “Sure,” he says. “You’re right.”

  I look him up and down. I want to reach out and squeeze his shoulder, but that feels inappropriate. Touching him right now feels like it would be very fraught, like it might be a problem. Not that I don’t want to. There’s a part of my body that feels like it wants to go over to him, kiss him on the mouth, tell him that he wasn’t wrong to feel like this.

  I clear my throat instead. “You know I’m going to be a priest, right?”

  “That’s what you say,” he replies, looking me up and down. “You know, on second thought, I think I might go out for breakfast. You can help yourself to pancakes.”

  “You made pancakes?”

  He doesn’t answer. He gets up and walks away. I watch as he picks up his helmet and walks out the door, then close my eyes as I lean back on the sofa and listen to him start up his bike.

  CONTINUE

  My head is throbbing when I pick up my phone to call Cyrus. There’s a part of me that thinks that I know exactly what he’s going to say about this. He’s going to enjoy it a lot more than me, that’s the one thing I know for sure.

  I pick up the phone, unlock it and scroll down to his contact card. He answers almost immediately. “Hey, babe,
” he says. “What are you up to?”

  “I’m sitting in my bedroom, wondering what the fuck is going on with my life,” I reply. “What about you?”

  “Trying to write a song,” he says. “About unrequited love. So everything is pretty standard for both of us, huh?”

  I laugh. “No,” I say. “I mean, yes, in terms of our emotional state. But something happened and I need to talk to you about it.”

  He goes quiet for a second. “Of course,” he says. “Are you doing okay, babe?”

  “I… I don’t know,” I reply, my voice a whimper. “Fuck, yeah, I think I’m okay. I just had a hell of a night.”

  “Too much praying?” he asks with a snicker.

  “Yes,” I say. “Especially when Montgomery called me to ask him if I could pick him up from the drunk tank.”

  “You slut!” he replies. I can hear him sit up. “You didn’t tell me about it?”

  “I just didn’t want to bother you after you helped me yesterday,” I reply with a laugh. “I did think about calling you, but I decided not to.”

  “So what happened?” he asks.

  “I bailed him out,” I say. “And then we got home and he told me that he had… fuck, he told me that he had a crush on me.”

  He laughs. “He did? Finally,” he replies. “So? What did you do?”

  “Wait,” I say. “You knew that?”

  “Yes, babe, I knew that,” he replies. “Everyone with eyes can see that Montgomery has a crush on you. In fact, like… okay, I don’t want to make assumptions here, but I’m pretty sure it’s more than that.”

  I lean back on the headboard of my bed and take a deep breath. I feel like I’m going to throw up. This is far more complicated than I ever wanted it to be. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you know that he’s in love with you, right?”

  I blink. I don’t think what he’s saying makes any sense. I cock my head as I swallow, my cheeks red. I don’t think I appreciate this accusation. “What? Don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “He can barely stand the sight of me.”

  “Yeah, because it reminds him of what he can’t have,” Cyrus says. “Even you aren’t this clueless.”

  I shake my head and laugh. I don’t know why, but I’m breaking into a sweat. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

  “Why would I be fucking with you about this?”

  “Because you like to see me squirm,” I reply.

  He laughs. “Yes, that’s the truth, but no,” he says. “That’s not what I’m saying it. I just… look, it’s more than a crush. The way he talks to you, it’s like he’s trying to push you away so he doesn’t catch feelings.”

  “Fuck,” I say, more to myself than to me.

  “Hey, it’s not that big a problem,” he replies. “A cute guy is in love with you. Take it. You’re going to go be a priest in a like a month anyway.”

  I lick my lips. “I haven’t accepted my spot yet,” I say quietly.

  “Why not?” he asks. “I thought this was what you’ve always wanted to do.”

  “It was,” I say. “It is.”

  “But it’s not anymore,” he says. “Because of Montgomery?”

  “No,” I reply. “I mean, I don’t know.”

  There’s a long pause before he says anything. “Alex,” he asks, stretching out my name. “Let me ask you something. Do you want something to happen with Montgomery?”

  I don’t know. I don’t know if I want anything to happen with Montgomery or if it would just be a foolish complication. “I don’t know,” I reply. “I guess there’s a part of me that’s tempted, because he’s really good-looking and…”

  “You want to have sex with him?”

  I giggle. “Well, that's a little crude, but yeah, basically.”

  “I know. It is a little crude, but you do want to have sex with them, and that's okay. It's normal for people your age to feel aroused when they think of other people.”

  I laugh. “You can fuck off, Cyrus, if you’re not going to help.”

  “That's not fair. I thought I was helping.”

  I laugh along with him. Something feels shallow about the way he’s giving me shit, though, like he’s not having as much fun as he normally does. “No, Cyrus, you are not helping. You're just making it worse.”

  He quiets down. “Okay, so I'm making it worse. Look, you just need to decide, is this something that you want? If you want to hang out with Montgomery before you have to go off and marry Jesus Christ then you should. I mean what's going to happen, they're going to kick you out of Seminary for not being a virgin?”

  I furrow my brow. “no. I don't think so. Maybe?”

  He snickers again. “You know, you should have really done more research on how you’re planning to spend the rest of your life.”

  “That’s the problem,” I say. “I mean, I don't know. What if I end up liking him more than I thought I would, and then I don't want to go to Seminary because of him, and then everything goes terribly wrong because it turns out that I should have went to Seminary in the first place because Montgomery is the worst?”

  “Wow, you have a lot of faith,” he says.

  “I do,” I say. “Just… not in him.”

  He tuts. There’s laughter in his voice again. “So basically you're asking me for permission to have casual sex,” he says. “With your roommate. Very naughty."

  “I didn't say that.”

  “I know, babe,” he replies. “But if you don't like him, and you don't want to have a relationship with him, then what you want this casual sex. Casual sex is okay, everyone does it. You can do too, if you want to.”

  “Not everyone does it,” I say. “You don’t do it.”

  “Yeah, I do,” he replies. “I just don’t tell you about it because you’re judgmental.”

  “What? I’m not judgmental,” I say, my mouth dry. “I just worry about you.”

  He laughs. “I know,” he says. “And that’s what I mean. You know I can take care of myself. Alex, if I were cis, would you be that worried about me hooking up with internet randos?”

  “I—yes?”

  “Okay,” he replies. “You keep telling yourself that. But let’s go back to the important part of this conversation. Do you want to go out with Montgomery or not? And don’t be wishy washy. I want to know your first instinct here. Yes or no?”

  I could say yes or I could say no. Both seem to be reasonable responses. There's definitely a part of me that wants to pursue Montgomery. He's very attractive, I'm always around him, and I'm kind of sure sex with him will be amazing. At the same time, I don't want to start liking him too much, which I’m sure would happen. When I fall, I fall deeply, quickly. It’s kind of a problem. I don't want to sacrifice what seems to be my path in life for someone that I'm pretty sure I'm going to hate in the space of a few years.

  Cyrus is right, there is no future for Montgomery and me. At least not together. Casual sex is one thing, but… this is more than that. This would be complicated. I don’t know if I can live with someone who

  There's something else too, something about this conversation that I'm finding hard to put my finger on but seems a little strange. Cyrus isn't being himself, not really, and it's starting to worry me. I can’t put my finger on it, but I can tell that something is wrong.

  I could say yes, but… I could just as easily say no.

  “Yes,” I say. “I think the answer is yes. I think I want to pursue Montgomery.”

  I can hear him exhaling heavily through his nose. I can hear him sighing, then leaning on something. “I kind of wish you had told me this in person,” he says. “Up until a few seconds ago, I thought you were just fucking with me.”

  I close my eyes and shake my head. “No,” I say. “This isn’t a joke. I don’t think it would even occur to me to joke about this.”

  He laughs, no humor in his voice. “Of course it wouldn’t,” he replies.

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “I thought you would be super excit
ed for me. You’ve been pushing Montgomery for a while.”

  “Yeah,” he replies. When he speaks again, his voice is harsh. “When I thought your plan was to be a priest!”

  “I could still be a priest,” I say. “Hooking up with Montgomery doesn’t mean I’m going to change my life plan. It just means I get to have some fun before I go. I didn’t think you would think that was a crime.”

  There’s a long pause before he says anything else. “Since when do you hook up with people, Alex?”

  I let out a shaky breath. “I just, I don’t know what else to call it, okay? I want something to happen between us,” I say. “I like him.”

  “A few days ago, you hated him.”

  “No,” I reply. “A few days ago, I didn’t understand that he was acting out because he had a crush on me.”

  “And it’s okay that he was?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But at least it explains it and shouldn’t that count for something?”

  He scoffs. “Right,” he says. “So now you’re going to sleep with him, and what, not go to school?”

  “No,” I say. “Fuck, I don’t know. I just won’t, okay? Since it clearly bothers you.”

  “It’s not that it bothers me, Alex,” he says.

  “Then why you are acting like it does?” I ask. ‘Honestly, I’m… I just thought you would be so happy for me. I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. You’ve always tried to get us to hook up, said we’re your OTP. Now that it might actually happen, you don’t want to hear about it? It’s bothering you that I found someone I like?”

  “No,” he says. “That’s not what’s bothering me. And those were all jokes, you were supposed to take them as jokes. I didn’t realize that you had absolutely no idea that Montgomery actually did have a crush on you. I thought you were in on the joke!”

  “Well, I wasn’t,” I reply. “And I thought you’d be happy for me! Instead you’re being a huge dick about it and I can’t figure out why.”

  “Are you really this clueless?”

  “I don’t get it!” I say into the phone. “I don’t understand what I’m being clueless about and I feel like you’re not giving me a chance here. At least give me a chance, okay, Cy?”