The Religious & The Damaged (UNDER EDITING)

29

Elias

I'm standing in the courtyard with my friends—a cigarette in my hand as we talk about how annoying our creative writing teacher is.
"I'm pretty sure she's a hoarder, maybe a murderer." Spencer says.
I laugh. "That's two very different things." I state.
Spencer looks at me. "Taxidermy, bro. Taxidermy."
I furrow my brows and look at Nick, in which he says, "She collects taxidermy."
I hum and nod, and Spencer continues, but I get distracted. I look to my right and see Joseph.
"Joseph!" I call out, and he noticeably flinches.
He looks over, and I smile softly. He looks to my friends with a hint of hesitation, but I still wave him over. He walks over, and I hear Spencer groan next to me.
"Hey, Seph." Kelsey greets him, in which Joseph responds with a slight smile.
"How are you?" He asks me.
I smile at his consideration and say, "I'm feeling better."
He nods and looks to my friends again briefly—he looks uncomfortable. I take his hand and he noticeably blushes. I tug him over to me, and he sits. Nick takes the cigarette I held.
"Anyway, as I was saying.." Spencer continues, and I subconsciously lean my back against Joseph's side.
He tenses against me, but it settles and I feel him adjust. He extends his arm out behind me—my only indication being his arm appearing on the opposite side of me, and my body leans back further until I'm against his chest. I take a drag of the cigarette once it's handed back to me.
"And she talks like a soft spoken person, no one is that calm." Spencer continues.
"What is he talking about?" Joseph whispers, his breath tickles my neck.
"Ms. Campbell." I answer.
I take another drag of my cigarette, and the bell rings. I stand, and so does Joseph. We follow my friends into the school, and depart our ways to go to class.
I want to ask Joseph if his father hurt him again for not going home, but the way he walks gives me the heart wrenching answer.
His hand holds his side briefly, and I want to ask—but my human decency stops me. I know he wouldn't want to talk about it.
We walk into our class and take our seats. I glance up as the teacher speaks.
"Okay, so your teacher has informed me that you all should be working on the pretest assignment she gave you a few days ago. She also informed me that today will be the last day to complete them, so get started and I'll be here to answer any questions."
I push my desk close to Joseph's, and I look over at him. He's staring down at the packet in some sort of panicked trance.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
He looks at me. "I still barely understand anything, I don't think I can afford another bad grade." He says.
I think for a moment. "I can come over after school." I offer.
He smiles briefly, and his gaze falls. His cheeks noticeably turn a light shade of red as he says, "I don't think I could focus on my work with you there."
I smile at the shakiness of his voice—it's not fear, he's nervous.
"Are you flirting with me?" I tease, and his head snaps over to me—his eyes wide and face red.
He stammers. "N-No, I just meant-"
I huff out a laugh and take his arm in my hand. "It's okay. I'm just teasing you."
He glances at my hand, then seemingly my lips before he meets my gaze again.
He's so cute when he's flustered, and the way he subconsciously acts gives me butterflies.
"So, should I come over?" I ask, my hand remaining on his arm and inadvertently reaches his hand—I don't notice until he looks down, then at the class.
"Okay." He replies, his gaze meeting mine.
I smile and look down at the assignment, my hand leaving his.

After school, I leave the building and see Joseph talking with Kelsey at the gate. I walk over, and it catches their attention. I look at Joseph.
"Ready?" I ask.
He looks over at Kelsey, and she says, "Go ahead. I'm meeting Joey for food."
He nods and walks past her. I follow after him and move to walk beside him.
It's a silent, peaceful walk.
I feel a brief touch on my hand, and I look over at Joseph. He looks away from me, and it's obvious that he's flustered. I smile reassuringly, though he's not looking at me.
"You don't have to be nervous around me." I reassure him.
He doesn't reply, instead he stares in front of him—his eyes unfocused.
He seems to be in some sort of trance, swallowed by his own anxiety.
I reach out and take his hand. "Joseph," He looks at me, but he doesn't hold eye contact long. I continue anyway. "It's okay." I say.
He nods a single time, and he meets my gaze. "Yeah..." He replies, the familiar shakiness in his voice returns.
My hand doesn't leave his, and his hand feels shaky in mine. I reassure him with a light grip, and he returns it.
It makes my heart ache at how scared he is, not because it makes me feel like he doesn't want to be with me, but because his dad has pushed his beliefs onto him so hard that any sort of thought to just be himself scares him shitless. I know he wants to be with me. I can't do anything but reassure him and be patient for when he's ready.
When we arrive, Joseph seemingly looks for his dad's car. It's gone, so he leads me into the house through the front door.
I forget how sad it feels to be in his house—sadness and anger lingers within the walls, and I feel it.
I follow him up to his room, and we walk in. The door shuts behind me, and I take a seat on the floor—my back against the bed frame. He sits next to me. I take out my textbook and notebook as I speak.
"I think we should start with the basics again, and then review the last few lessons."
"Okay."
I start explaining the basics, and once I'm done, I hand the notebook over to him so we can start the lessons. And my shoulder brushes against his as I look over his shoulder and point out mistakes as he works out the problems. He tenses at my touch, but I keep explaining even though my heart is pounding.
I'm sure his is too. The air is intense somehow—in the presence of each other, and we're both flustered, but we were this close earlier, if not more, but somehow it's so much more intense. It's still nice, nonetheless.
He breaks me from my trance when he shows the notebook to me.
"Like this?" He asks.
I briefly look over his work before I say, "Yeah, that's right." There's a hint of excitement in my voice for his own accomplishment.
It makes me laugh lightly at his surprise.
"Really?"
I nod and look down at the textbook. "Okay, so we should review some more, work through some more problems and I think you'll be ready." I say, and he nods.

Hours pass by, and we finish studying.
I collect my things and put them into my bag as Joseph waits by the door.
"I wish I didn't have to go." I say.
"Me too." A smile is audible in his voice, and I stand upright and walk over to him.
His gaze meets mine.
"Maybe you could come over again." I suggest, and he smiles, but he seems nervous about something.
"I'd like that." He says.
I smile back, and he turns around and heads out of his room. I follow him as we descend the stairs and walk to the front door. I put on my shoes and kneel to tie them.
The air is intense again and I don't know why.
I stand and smile over at him after opening the door. "Bye." I say, and I turn away.
"Elias.." He calls out, his voice hesitant and simultaneously gentle.
I turn and open my mouth to reply, but he takes my cheek into his hand and I'm caught by surprise when his lips press against mine. I kiss back once I process what's happening, and his hand reaches into my hair and I lean closer—my hand reaching out to the side of his neck as his other hand grips my sweater. He leans back after a short moment, and our lips are inches apart, our foreheads pressed together, and I feel his shaky breath against my skin; his grip tightens on my sweater and his brows furrow upward.
"Are you okay?" I ask, worry heavy in my voice.
His grip, yet again, tightens. "Yeah..." He whispers, and his lips brush against mine.
My heart is pounding and my cheeks feel hot as I stand this close to him. His hands take each side of my face, a shaky breath escapes him, and I lean in to kiss him this time. Our lips meet, and it's all the more heartwarming—any doubt I had about my feelings for Joseph disintegrate within seconds. It's crystal clear now.
His hands move to my back as I lean back to meet his gaze, and he doesn't look as terrified as before.
"I'm sorry for kissing you like that, I just-"
I shake my head. "It's okay." I say, and I smile. "It was nice."
A gentle smile tugs at his lips. My heart skips a beat, and it's like a rush of happiness runs through me.
"I really like you, Lias." He says, and he looks down; he grasps my sweater again. "I don't know how good I'll be at this. I'm messed up."
I smile sympathetically and take his arm into my gentle touch in an attempt to get him to look at me, and he does—his gaze; fragile.
"I'm messed up too." His expression softens, and my smile grows. "And I think you're off to a great start." I attempt to lighten the mood, and it seems to.
He huffs out a laugh—his expression completely softened, and I grin.
I don't see him smile often, but when he does, it makes my heart flutter.
We meet eyes, and his smile softens and he pulls me into an embrace. I rest my hands on his back, and I make sure my touch is gentle because I remember all the times I've touched his back in the past and he's always reacted badly, like that's the root of his dad's abuse.
His grasp tightens before it loosens, and he leans back.
I say, "I'll text you."
He nods. I smile softly and step back from his touch. I turn and leave; the door shuts behind me.
My heart is still pounding. I prepare myself to wake up, but I don't—this is real life.