My Favorite Sin

by Lina Langley

  He exhales. “I helped you decide, didn’t I?”

  “You did,” I reply.

  He closes his eyes again. When he speaks again, his voice is trembling. “What did you decide, choirboy?”

  I could kiss him again or excuse myself and try to get in touch with Cyrus.

  He has helped me make a decision. I care about Cyrus, but his friendship is the most important thing to me. When it comes to Montgomery, there really is nothing to lose. He’s a good kisser, too, and the way he’s holding my waist is making my body feels like electricity is coming from his hand and coursing through my skin.

  I know there are going to be consequences for doing this, but right now, I don’t care about any of them. All that I care about is the way his lips feel on mine and I can’t stop myself from closing the space between us. I kiss him again before I say anything, but it isn’t a passionate or hungry kiss, it’s sweet, soft and short.

  I move an inch away from his face before I speak. “Yeah,” I say. “You did help me decide.”

  My eyes have gotten used to how dark his room is now, so I can see the wrinkles around his eyes as he smiles. “Good,” he says. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  He doesn’t let me leave. He puts the hand that was on my waist on the back of my neck and kisses me again, this time more passionately, his body pressing into mine. I groan as I pull away from him. “Are you sure about this?”

  “About what? We’re just kissing, Alex,” he says. “Relax. It doesn’t have to go further than this.”

  I want to protest, to tell him that it has already gone further than this, but he doesn’t give me a chance to. He’s kissing me again, his tongue wrestling against mine in my mouth, his hand warm and firm on the back of my neck. We keep doing this, taking breaks to breathe or laugh and not do much else.

  He starts moving his hand down my back, stops right above my ass, and holds it there. He moves away from me and smiles. I can feel his cock pressing up against mine, even through the fabric of our clothes. He smiles at me. “Unless you want it to.”

  I smile back at him. “I want it to,” I say. “But we should probably cool it. At least until you sober up completely.”

  “I am sober,” he says. It makes both of snicker.

  “Seriously,” I reply. “We clearly need to talk.”

  “Talking is so boring,” he says. “Let’s just make out instead.”

  He kisses me again, his mouth firm, his tongue insistent. His breath is tickling the skin on my face. His body is so close to mine, there’s no space between us at all. This is already a lot, and there’s a part of me that’s thinking about reaching down and unzipping his jeans. I need to back away from him before I start to do something we’re both going to regret.

  “Hey,” I say when I move away from him. “Tomorrow, okay?”

  He watches me. “What happens tomorrow?”

  “We can talk about this,” I say. “If you still want to.”

  “Sure,” he replies. “That sounds good.”

  Then he kisses me again. It takes me forever to peel myself away from him and I laugh when I finally manage to do so. He moves his hand away from me and sighs. “I thought you wanted things to be simple,” he says.

  I laugh as I start to walk away from him. “Yeah, well,” I reply. “I never get what I want.”

  CONTINUE

  I take a deep breath as I move away from him. I think I might be hurting his feelings, which is the last thing I want to do. I want to make sure that he knows it’s nothing personal and I really don’t want him to feel like I used him, because that was the last thing I ever wanted to do.

  He laughs, no humor in his voice. “I get it,” he says. “You should, I don’t know, go after him or something.”

  “I’m going to be a priest,” I say.

  “Okay, and? Doesn’t mean you can’t go have sex with your boyfriend,” he says.

  “He’s not my—”

  He closes his eyes and rolls over so he’s on his back again, not facing me anymore. “I’m done talking you through this, choirboy,” he says. “You can be a priest or go talk to your boyfriend. Honestly, I don’t give a fuck.”

  I shake my head as I sit up. I look down at him. His hand is on of his forehead, his palm facing outward. He’s breathing slowly. He looks like he might be falling asleep. “You know,” I say. “I can never understand you. Sometimes, you’re nice to me, but most of the time, you’re a fucking asshole.”

  He laughs quietly. “I like it when you get feisty,” he says. “It makes me smile.”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “So nothing has changed, basically,” I say.

  “Not for me,” he replies. He sits up abruptly, so that his face is right next to mine. “You know, for someone smart, you’re sort of an idiot.”

  I furrow my brow. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yeah, you do,” he says. “You act like you have no idea why you get on my nerves all the time. You act like you’re so innocent in all of this. But you’re not. I mean, you literally just used me to decide that you wanted to pursue your bestie romantically.”

  I lick my lips. “That’s not fair,” I say. “You kissed me. You were the one who initiated everything.”

  “You literally never said you didn’t want me to do any of the things I did,” he replies. “You never acted like they were a problem. If you wanted me to stop, I would have stopped.”

  I close my eyes. “Yeah, I know that.”

  “Well, then,” he says. “Go. Chase your BFF at the airport. Let me sleep.”

  I shake my head. “And what about us?”

  He laughs quietly, bitterly. There’s no humor in his voice. “There is no us,” he says. “Since you seem to be so intent on being obtuse, I’ll spell it out for you.”

  “Spell what out for me?”

  “You get on my nerves because I have a crush on you,” he says quietly.

  “Montgomery—”

  “I’ll get over it,” he says. “Now get out of my room. I’m officially uninviting you, which means you’ll officially start bleeding from your head soon enough.”

  “Is that… is that from Let The Right One In?”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “I’m going to be a priest, not a vampire,” I protest quietly.

  “Same difference,” he says. He grabs a pillow and throws it at me. “Seriously, Alex, get out of my room.”

  I do as I’m told, trying to ignore the growing pit in the stomach. He was right. Why does everything have to be so complicated?

  CONTINUE

  Chapter SIX

  I feel bad for Montgomery. I know that things are going to be tense—even more tense than they used to be—between us. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. He’s right, of course, I could have stopped him at any point. I just didn’t want to. It was easier not to and it wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy the attention.

  I know that I owe him an apology, but I can’t apologize yet. Not until I figure out what the fuck is happening with Cyrus, since Montgomery is right. Despite what I want to tell myself, Cyrus is the most important person in my life.

  I wait until the morning before I call him, but I don’t get a wink of sleep. After a few rings, he sends me to voicemail. Shit. He never does that unless he’s recording and I know he’s not recording right now. He never records on Sundays.

  I don’t want to pop over to his house when he’s not expecting me, but I will if that’s the only way I’m going to be able to talk to him.

  I decide to text him. Hey, Cy. Can we talk?

  He texts back almost immediately. I need some space, babe. I’ll reach out to you in a few days.

  I look at the text for far too long. Everything around me feels like it’s stopped being important. The only thing I can think about right now is how everything around me feels dull, like it has lots all color.

  Okay. I’ll miss you.

  I look at my phone screen. Three dots are coming up on our
thread after the last message I sent, which tells me he’s going to write something back. But he doesn’t. There’s no response, the three dots go away, and I’m left staring at my phone, knowing he’s not going to answer me at all.

  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without Cyrus. He’s always just been a phone call away when I needed him, which I suppose is part of the problem. I’ve always taken him for granted and I think I might have changed our relationship for good.

  I close my eyes and lean back on the headboard of my bed. I can’t stay here.

  I can’t stop Cyrus from pursuing his dreams and I certainly can’t be around if all I’m going to do is hurt his feelings more than I already have.

  I’m going to go off to seminary and I’m going to try to become a priest, just like I always wanted. Before things got so complicated. Before they turned into this, whatever the fuck this is. I walk over to my laptop, which is on my dresser, grab it, sit on my bed and put it on my legs before I open it.

  I go on the seminary’s website, the green and blue logo prominent everywhere I go. There’s no way I can escape this now. I log into the site and click on the admissions button.

  This is it. All I have to do is put in a deposit and I’m in. I sigh as I look at what they need from me.

  “This is what you’ve always wanted,” I tell myself. “Just pull the trigger.”

  I look at my phone, which hasn’t rung or beeped. There are no notifications lights blinking on it. Cyrus isn’t going to reach out to me and I just need to come to terms with that.

  I finish inputting my credit card number and the website starts to celebrate.

  Congratulations, Alejandro Del Bosque! We look forward to seeing you in September for orientation.

  There’s more after that, but I don’t read any of it. I slam my laptop shut, put it on my bed and lie down next to it.

  This is good, I tell myself as I stare at the popcorn ceiling. This is what you’ve always wanted.

  Maybe if I say it enough times, it’ll start sounding like the truth.

  CONTINUE

  It’s early when I knock on Cyrus door. I know that it’s very likely that he’s sleeping, but I need to talk to him. I don't care. I need to talk to him, and I need to do it quickly. He needs to know that I've decided to leave, that I can’t stay here, not as long as he's not okay with me.

  I shake my head as I approach his place. I can’t tell him that, because I don’t want to guilt trip him into making me stay or anything like that, I just want him to hear it from me, as soon as possible.

  I knock on his door very loudly, almost certain I’m waking him up. I’m about to start kicking it when he comes to the door.

  He opens it, looking like he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep. He looks me up and down before he opens it. “You call people before you show up,” he says. “That’s basic manners. Amparo would be so disappointed.”

  I roll my eyes. I didn’t want to guilt trip him, but of course he started this conversation by name dropping my mother.

  “Can we talk?” I ask.

  He rolls his eyes, but he moves away from the door. He’s wearing nothing but a shirt and these boxers that look like they’re far too big on him. I would normally tease him about it, but right now, it feels unimportant. “I told you I needed space,” he says as he walks with me toward the living room.

  “I know,” I say. “Any other time, I would have given you space. Right now, this is too important. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

  “You didn’t want to tell me what over the phone?” he says, looking me up and down.

  I think there might be a chance he might be expecting me to say something else, but even if there was anything else to say, it’s too late for that. Too many things have changed and I’m going to leave. I’m going to be a priest.

  I don’t even sit down as I turn to speak to him. “I’m leaving,” I say. “I’m going to seminary.”

  He stares at me for a second, then drops his gaze to the ground. He clears his throat before he speaks. “Good,” he says. “It’s what you’ve almost wanted to do, right?”

  “Right,” I say. “I don’t—I don’t want to leave with things being bad between us, Cy.”

  He smiles at me, but it never quite reaches his eyes. “They won’t be,” he says. “I’ll get over it.”

  I don’t want him to get over it. I want everything to be okay now, I want us to be okay. I want everything to go back to normal.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “No, you don’t,” he says. “I expected you not to make things awkward and I did a pretty good job of that myself.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, closing my eyes. “I just want things to be the way they were before. Before any of this happened.”

  He laughs quietly. “I don’t,” he says. “Have you ever thought about what I want?”

  I nod. “Of course I have,” I say. “You want to go to LA, make it in the music business. Right?”

  He glares at me, but then he sighs. “Sure, I guess.”

  “Is that not what you want?” I ask.

  He scoffs, his arms now crossed over his chest. “Don’t, okay? Don’t.”

  “Cy…”

  He sucks in his cheek. “This is why I wanted space,” he says. “Because I knew talking to you would be hard. Because I thought I would end up saying something that I regretted. And now you’re here and I’m just going to say it, because honestly, you need to hear it.”

  I watch him, saying nothing.

  He gets close to me, so close I can feel his breath on my skin. “You should become a priest,” he says. “Because you’re one of the most selfish, entitled people I’ve ever met. Maybe it’ll teach you how to look around you and stop being such a dick. You think you’re the only one who is affected by your insecurity? By how wishy-washy you are? You think I haven’t second guessed myself because I don’t know what you’re going to do?”

  “Cy—”

  “No, you’re going to listen to me,” he says. “Because you never fucking do. You always make assumptions and you never ask me how I feel.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Don’t,” he says. “Don’t talk. Be a priest. Maybe it’ll teach you how to be a good person.”

  “That’s not fair,” I say.

  He nods. “You’re right,” he says. “It’s not. Now get out of my house. Oh, and Alex? Drop the whole ingénue act. It’s grating.”

  By the time he’s done, there are tears welling up in my eyes. “Cy—”

  “Out,” he says. “Get out of my house.”

  CONTINUE

  I need to wait a few weeks to call Lawrence. I want to tell him I decided to go to seminary. Montgomery isn’t acting any differently toward me, but I feel a little weird around him anyway. I know everyone thinks I shouldn’t think this is a big deal, but everything feels like a big deal to me now.

  I spend my time occupied with reading books I never got a chance to read when I was in school, but concentrating is hard. I’m also not looking forward to going to seminary, even though my flight is coming up soon. I know I should be more excited about this, but with the way everything went with Cyrus, I don’t think I can be that excited about much else anymore.

  I’ve tried to craft an apology, but I don’t even know where I would be able to start. I don’t know how I would apologize for not listening to him by not listening to him. He wanted space, so I’m giving him space, even though it’s the last thing that I want to do.

  I want to knock on his door and ask him to tell me what it would take to make things better between us. I feel like I lost my best friend and I don’t think there’s a good enough reason for that.

  I bump into Montgomery when I’m going out for a jog early Saturday morning. He’s just stumbling in from a blender. He smiles at me. “Hey, choirboy,” he says. “We okay? I didn’t mean to spook you.”

  “We’re okay,” I say. “Are you drunk?”


  “So drunk,” he says. “What time is it?”

  “Like six?”

  “In the morning? Fun,” he replies. “I should go to sleep.”

  He flings himself at me for a hug, I think, and I catch him. He hasn’t quite passed out, but his body is heavy on mine and I practically have to carry him to his bedroom. I don’t know when he decided he was going to use me for support, but I wish he would have asked me if I was okay with it before he did. I finally manage to walk him into his bedroom, which is a fucking mess, and deposit him softly on the bed.

  By the time I’m done, I’m sweating. Montgomery’s eyes flutter open. “Hey, Alex?”

  “What?”

  “Can you stay with me a bit?”

  I watch him, saying nothing. He rolls over so he’s on his side. “What can I say? I think I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”

  I shake my head and scoff. “Well, that makes one of you,” I say. “Cyrus hates me.”

  “Why? Did you pump and dump him?”

  I open my mouth to say that of course I didn’t, I would never do such a thing. Montgomery holds up his hand for a high five. “Damn,” he says. “I thought you were so pure of heart, with your little bracelet—”

  “It’s a rosary—”

  “And the praying and everything, but pump and dumping your best friend is cold,” he says. “And hilarious. I’m proud of you.”

  “Put your hand down, Montgomery,” I say. I sound far more offended than I have any right to be. “I’m not going to high five you.”

  “My feelings,” he says and closes his eyes. “I thought we could be good together.”

  “Fuck you,” I say. My fists are clenched by my sides, and when I leave his room, I slam the door closed behind me. I hope it hurts his head.

  CONTINUE

  I call Lawrence the next day. I could go to the airport alone, but I don’t think I want to do that. I don’t think I want to face this by myself. I would have rather reconciled with Cyrus by now, but it’s not looking like it’s going to happen.