John 8:32

19 - Proverbs 28:5

Evildoers do not understand what is right, but those who seek the Lord understand it fully.

Damien hadn't slept since Saturday night.

He couldn't even think about getting in bed and closing his eyes. He just... sat on the floor. And then he laid on the floor. He tried to get some homework done, but that was equally out of the picture.

Ultimately, all he got done was packing his bag. The same duffel bag that sat at his feet now. Packed with enough clothing for a week, along with his phone charger and other miscellaneous necessities.

Of course, now he was nodding off where he sat in the lobby of the school. He was waiting for Joanna to come pick him up. He hadn't gotten more than a few texts from her since his birthday. He didn't mind, that's just how they were, but he still hadn't spoken to her in a while. And now she was coming to come get him after... everything that happened.

He was hardly conscious when Spencer passed in front of him. He didn't even seem to notice Damien. He wanted to call out to him — say something. But nothing came out. Spencer walked by — heading to whatever class he had next. Damien couldn't remember what it was.

The look in Spencer's eyes killed Damien. He looked like he got just as much sleep as Damien did — which was none. But it was more than that.

Damien didn't have much time to dwell on it because Joana was entering the lobby, searching around for him.

"Jo," he stood up, picking his bag up from the floor, "I'm literally right here."

"Damien," she breathed as he walked over to her, "What the hell happened?"

"I'll tell you in the car," he shook his head. He didn't want to get into it here, it sounded like she wasn't told anything.

Damien didn't even know where to start as he buckled himself into the front seat of his sister's car. He supposed they had a while.

"So you know Spencer Morris?"

Joanna had gone to Saint Augustine's too, when she was still in high school, so she knew of Spencer. Probably.

"Father Abraham's kid?"

"Yeah," Damien nodded, "I've... kind of been hooking up with him. For like. A year? Well, I've been dating him for few weeks. But we've been hooking up for like a year. It's complicated."

"You were sleeping with Father Abraham's kid?" Joanna's jaw practically dropped as she looked over to Damien.

"I wasn't sleeping with him," Damien corrected, "Well— hadn't yet."

"Yet?"

"Well, we were kind of planning on it—"

"Damien you were planning on sleeping with Father Abraham's kid?" Joanna asked again, like she hadn't heard Damien the first time.

"Listen, I told you it was complicated. Can I keep telling my story?"

"Yeah, okay, sorry," Joanna shook her head, blinking like she was trying to make sense of it all. She probably was.

"So like, there's those bathrooms in the back of the church, by Father Abraham's office—"

"Damien, you did fucking not," Joanna interrupted him, mouth actually gaping open this time, "You did not."

"Jo, I did not fuck Spencer in the bathroom during church," Damien couldn't help but laugh, "I just made out with him. Frequently. Like, a lot. Like every Sunday. Maybe during evening mass a few times."

"I can't believe my brother's a man-whore," Joanna berated him with a chuckle, "During church? Those are some fucking balls."

"Well, Spencer had the master keys to like everywhere, so," Damien shrugged, "Except he forgot them yesterday, so we didn't lock the door, and someone caught us. So Father Abraham suspended us."

"That fucking bastard," Joanna grumbled, "You know he wouldn't have suspended you if it was with a girl."

Joanna hated Father Abraham and Saint Augustine's as much as Damien did, she was more than quick to jump on any opportunity to complain about it.

"I know," Damien more than agreed with her. It was total bullshit, "I can't do shit about it though. Not without making things worse for Spence."

"My God," Joanna sighed, "That poor kid."

"I know," Damien's stomach twisted itself into knots again as he thought about it. Spencer was alive, he knew that much. But he hadn't received so much as a text from him since Sunday morning.

It hurt.

As soon as he got out of the car Damien was texting Spencer — his messages wouldn't deliver. Fuck.