My Favorite Sin

by Lina Langley

  “No,” he says, closing his eyes. “No. This isn’t your fault and I’m not going to let you make it seem like it is. You can report me, I wouldn’t expect anything—”

  “Report you for what? Being kissable?”

  He laughs quietly, shaking his head a little. He doesn’t smile when he’s finished laughing. He leans forward and kisses me softly on the cheek. Then he moves slightly, so his mouth is right next to my ear. “You need to get out,” he says. “Now.”

  His breath sends a shiver down my spine. I know that I have to do what he has just told me, but there’s a part of me that wants to stay here and go back to his place.

  He pulls away and puts his hands on the wheel in front of him. I don’t say anything as I get out of the car. I don’t look behind me as I walk over to my apartment, dig for my keys in my pocket and lean my forehead against the door, my eyes closed.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I think I’ve just ruined one of the most important relationships in my entire life and I have no idea how to begin fixing it.

  There are tears in my eyes when I fumble with the key and open the door to my apartment. It smells like incense and soy sauce in here and I can see Montgomery’s helmet on the accent desk by the foyer. I have to talk to him and I already feel like I’m going to throw up from the night I’ve had.

  I take my phone out of my pocket and scroll down until I see Cyrus’ name. I press down on his contact card and wait for it to ring a couple of times. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” I say. “Can you talk?”

  “Yes, one second,” he says. I can hear him putting down something. “Sorry. I had my guitar strapped to me.”

  “That’s okay,” I say, leaning back against the wall and closing my eyes. I swallow.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” he’s trying to sound like his usual self, but I can tell he’s concerned.

  “I don’t… I don’t even know where to start,” I say, closing my eyes. My breath is shuddering when I speak.

  “What happened? Do you want me to meet you?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Yes, please. Can you come over now, please?”

  “Sure,” he replies. “Alex, are you going to be okay until I get there?”

  I close my eyes and nod. I swallow and open my eyes, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ll see you when you get here,” I say before I end the call.

  I intend to go into my bedroom and avoid seeing Montgomery, but I can hear his footsteps coming toward me. Fuck. Of course I’m not going to be able to avoid him. He starts walking away from me, but I need to clear the air between us.

  I grab his wrist to stop him from walking away from me. “Stop,” I say. “Can we talk?”

  He looks down at my hand, the one that’s holding his wrist in place. I release him and take a deep breath, looking up at his face. There are bags under his eyes, which are small and bloodshot. “Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes. “What do you want?”

  “I want to apologize,” I say. “I shouldn’t have left you. For what it’s worth, I learned my lesson.”

  He cocks his head, then laughs quietly. He rubs his wrist, where I was touching him. “It’s fine,” he says. “Thank you for going to pick me up in the first place. I was tipsy and annoyed. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  I smile and shake my head. “I should have stayed with you,” I say. “It was mean-spirited to leave you there alone.”

  He laughs again. “No, don’t worry about it, choirboy,” he says. “You came to get me and you got in trouble. It didn’t surprise that you had to take care of yourself.”

  “Should have taken care of you, too,” I say.

  “Not your responsibility, choirboy,” he says, looking me up and down. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look… pale.”

  “I had a hell of a night,” I say, shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

  He extends his arms and squeezes my shoulder. When I look at him, he’s winking. “Welcome to living your life, choirboy,” he says. “It’s shit.”

  I laugh again. “You were the one who was encouraging this!”

  He starts walking backward toward the kitchen. “Why are you listening to me? I suck at giving advice,” he says. He grabs his keys from the accent table in the foyer, along with his helmets. “See you later. I’m going out.”

  I smile as he opens the door. At least things are back to being friends… or, well, friendly, I guess. He looks over his shoulder before he leaves. “Alex?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you,” he says. “For coming to get me. I don’t care that it didn’t work out, I appreciate the gesture regardless. You’re one of the good ones.”

  “I, uh, thank you,” I call after him as he closes the door behind him. I can’t help but smile when I hear him starting up his bike. I’m not sure where he’s going—work, maybe, but I don’t know his hours by heart.

  It’s none of my business, of course, but maybe I’ll do something nice for him when he gets home. Maybe I can salvage at least one of the relationships I care about.

  Before I leave.

  Because after what happened, there’s no way I can stay here.

  CONTINUE

  I don’t care if it makes me a coward. I start running away, not even looking back once. There’s no way that I can look at Lawrence and not say or do something I might regret for the rest of my life.

  Something else.

  There are tears in my eyes when I fumble with the key and open the door to my apartment. It smells like incense and soy sauce in here and I can see Montgomery’s helmet on the accent desk by the foyer. I have to talk to him and I already feel like I’m going to throw up from the night I’ve had.

  I take my phone out of my pocket and scroll down until I see Cyrus’ name. I press down on his contact card and wait for it to ring a couple of times. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” I say. “Can you talk?”

  “Yes, one second,” he says. I can hear him putting down something. “Sorry. I had my guitar strapped to me.”

  “That’s okay,” I say, leaning back against the wall and closing my eyes. I swallow.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” he’s trying to sound like his usual self, but I can tell he’s concerned.

  “I don’t… I don’t even know where to start,” I say, closing my eyes. My breath is shuddering when I speak.

  “What happened? Do you want me to meet you?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Yes, please. Can you come over now, please?”

  “Sure,” he replies. “Alex, are you going to be okay until I get there?”

  I close my eyes and nod. I swallow and open my eyes, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ll see you when you get here,” I say before I end the call.

  I intend to go into my bedroom and avoid seeing Montgomery, but I can hear his footsteps coming toward me. Fuck. Of course I’m not going to be able to avoid him. He starts walking away from me, but I need to clear the air between us.

  I grab his wrist to stop him from walking away from me. “Stop,” I say. “Can we talk?”

  He looks down at my hand, the one that’s holding his wrist in place. I release him and take a deep breath, looking up at his face. There are bags under his eyes, which are small and bloodshot. “Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes. “What do you want?”

  “I want to apologize,” I say. “I shouldn’t have left you. For what it’s worth, I learned my lesson.”

  He cocks his head, then laughs quietly. He rubs his wrist, where I was touching him. “It’s fine,” he says. “Thank you for going to pick me up in the first place. I was tipsy and annoyed. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  I smile and shake my head. “I should have stayed with you,” I say. “It was mean-spirited to leave you there alone.”

  He laughs again. “No, don’t worry about it, choirboy,” he says. “You came to get me and you got in trouble. It didn’t surprise that you had to take care of
yourself.”

  “Should have taken care of you, too,” I say.

  “Not your responsibility, choirboy,” he says, looking me up and down. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look… pale.”

  “I had a hell of a night,” I say, shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

  He extends his arms and squeezes my shoulder. When I look at him, he’s winking. “Welcome to living your life, choirboy,” he says. “It’s shit.”

  I laugh again. “You were the one who was encouraging this!”

  He starts walking backward toward the kitchen. “Why are you listening to me? I suck at giving advice,” he says. He grabs his keys from the accent table in the foyer, along with his helmets. “See you later. I’m going out.”

  I smile as he opens the door. At least things are back to being friends… or, well, friendly, I guess. He looks over his shoulder before he leaves. “Alex?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you,” he says. “For coming to get me. I don’t care that it didn’t work out, I appreciate the gesture regardless. You’re one of the good ones.”

  “I, uh, thank you,” I call after him as he closes the door behind him. I can’t help but smile when I hear him starting up his bike. I’m not sure where he’s going—work, maybe, but I don’t know his hours by heart.

  It’s none of my business, of course, but maybe I’ll do something nice for him when he gets home. Maybe I can salvage at least one of the relationships I care about.

  Before I leave.

  Because after what happened, there’s no way I can stay here.

  CONTINUE

  I don’t know how long it takes for Cyrus to get to my place, but it feels like forever. I’m pacing around my apartment, messing around with the rosary beads I always keep around my wrist. I want to pray, but all my relationships feel tenuous right now, including my relationship with God.

  Cyrus knocks on my door, which is unlocked. I open it for him and wrap my arms around him before he’s even fully in my apartment. He hugs me back. “Hey,” he says, moving away from me. The concern is obvious in his face. “You okay? What happened?”

  I shake my head. “I’m leaving,” I say quietly.

  “You’re… leaving,” he repeats. “Oh. You mean you decided to go to seminary?”

  I nod. “Yes,” I say, getting out of his way. We both walk toward the living room. He’s clearly waiting for me to keep talking. I flop down on the sofa and sigh deeply.

  He sits down on the other side. “Good?”

  I glare at him, my cheeks red. “Isn’t it just?”

  He laughs. I think he’s not sitting next to me because I look jumpy right now, which wouldn’t surprise me. I completely understand if he doesn’t want to be around me right now. I don’t think I want to be around me right now. “I thought you’d feel happier about it,” he says. “I mean, you did say this is what you’ve always wanted to do.”

  I look away from him. “I kissed him,” I say quietly.

  “You kissed who? Jesus?”

  “What? No!” I say. “I kissed Lawrence.”

  His eyes widen. “Wait a second,” he says. “You kissed Lawrence?”

  “Yes,” I say. I tell him everything, how I went to pick up Montgomery, how I got put in the drunk tank myself, how Lawrence showed me a picture of his ex-boyfriend. By the time I’m done, Cyrus’ jaw is hanging open.

  “So,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I’m—I keep thinking about everything that happens. My head keeps spinning. Like, maybe I could have done something differently.”

  “I mean, yeah,” he says. “If you were going to have to stop talking to him for good, you might as well have had sex with him.”

  I glare at him. He smiles at me.

  “I’m sort of serious,” he says. “I mean, if you can’t ever see him again, it makes sense to me for you to go out, you know, with a bang. Not a whimper.”

  I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. “For the record, you suck.”

  He tuts. “I’m just trying to help you here,” he says. “And I would have been able to help you with the most sensible option if you had reached out to me on time. Now…”

  He trails off and I close my eyes. My head is throbbing.

  “What happened after you kissed him?” he asks, his voice quiet.

  I try to swallow down the knot in my throat. “He told me that I couldn’t see him again,” he says. “He kissed me on the cheek and told me to get out of his car.”

  He sighs. “Oh, honey,” he says.

  I rub the bridge of my nose, my eyes welling up with tears. “There is nothing I can do,” I say. “I mean, there’s nothing I can do to fix this, is there?”

  He takes a second to think about this. For a second, I think that he might want to crack another joke, but then he looks into my eyes and shakes his head, very subtly, very slowly. “No, babe,” he says. “Not that I can think of.”

  “And I can’t see him again,” I say. “Because that’s just going to make things bad. Like before I leave, that’s just going to make things worse.”

  Cyrus nods. “I mean, technically, you’re not really his student after next week, right?”

  I nod. “Well, I was never his student,” I say. “He was just my counselor for a while during my first year and that never changed.”

  “But it could have?”

  I nod. “I mean, normally, it does,” I say. “I don’t know how it works for performance students, but we got a new counselor every semester.”

  “We didn’t get counselors,” Cyrus says with a snicker. “We were lucky we got facilities in the first place. So wait. You requested to stay with him after your first semester?”

  I nod. “Yeah,” I say. “He was the only councilor on staff who seemed to think my faith was importance. Everyone else was pushing me toward a private practice career.”

  “Which you could still… right, point taken,” he says when he sees me glaring at him. “Okay. So just to get this straight, you want to make sure everything is okay between you, you know, before you move?”

  I nod. “I mean, yes, I would rather do that,” I say. “But if I can’t, then I guess I have to learn how to be okay with that.”

  He narrows his eyes. “What happened? After you kissed him,” he says. “You just told me you kissed him, but you never said what happened after that.”

  He scooches toward me and grabs my hand. “It’s going to be okay,” he says. “Whatever happens, I promise you that it’s going to be okay.”

  I lick my lips. “How can you be sure of that?”

  “Because,” he says, smiling at me. “I’m going to be here and I’m going to give you enough alcohol and ice cream to make you sick.”

  I smile at him and shake my head. “Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate you being here.”

  “Of course,” he replies, squeezing my hand again. “I mean, babe, you know that’s what friends are for.”

  CONTINUE

  Cyrus is fucking around on his phone. I stand up and walk over to my bedroom and grab my laptop, which is sitting precariously on my dresser. I grab it, pop it open and sit on my bed. “Cyrus?”

  “What is it, babe?”

  “Come in here a second, boo,” I say. I don’t know why, but it feels weird to do this in the living room. I want to be sitting on my bed, just like I was when I first got the news. When he walks into my bedroom, I’m glaring at the screen. It’s bright and I feel like it’s going to give me a headache.

  He sits down next to me, his arm touching mine. “Oh, honey,” he says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure about this?”

  I shrug. “No,” I say. “But are you sure about California?”

  He shakes his head. “Not at all,” he replies. “But it might work out, and I would be an idiot not to think about going there.”

  “Right,” I say. “And seminary is the same.”

  I’m looking at him. He scoffs. “I don
’t know,” he says. “I’ve no fucking clue. You’re asking me about seminary?”

  I laugh and shake my head. “But this is good, right? This is what I want to do.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Exactly,” he says. He puts his hand on mine, which is on my computer. “But if you’re only doing this because you’re afraid of, well, anything, you shouldn’t do it. You can’t run away from your destiny.”

  I look at him. “And what is my destiny?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. “Shouldn’t you get to decide that?”

  “I should,” I say. “I have. My destiny is seminary.”

  He swallows. “Sure,” he says. “If you say so.”

  “I say so,” I reply, a little more curtly than I expected to.

  Cyrus watches me, but says nothing. I look up at him and he flashes me a smile. “It’s okay,” he says. “I’m here for you.”

  I shake my head as I look at the screen, but there’s a smile on my face now. I think my hands might be trembling on the laptop’s keyboard.

  This is what I need to do. I know it’s what I need to do. I type in my password and my computer takes a second or two to log me in. It’s enough time to make me think that it might not be a good idea, that I might be better off staying here.

  I look at Cyrus. I put my head on the back of his hand and take a deep breath, his skin soft on my face. “Hey,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  I take a deep breath and sit up straight. I look at Cyrus and then nod at him. 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.

  I take a deep breath in and then a deep breath out. I haven’t realized this until now, but Cyrus is breathing in and out with me, to the point where it’s actually a little disturbing.