The Religious & The Damaged (UNDER EDITING)

30

Joseph

I press my back against the door, and a shaky breath slips from my lips and it's followed by another, then another.
Did I seriously kiss him? I can't believe this—it must be a dream, right? I feel sick.
I place a hand over my chest and I take deep breaths.
It's not the end of the world—he won't find out. It's okay.
I take more deep breaths, and my heart settles into a normal rhythm. I wipe a hand down my face as I let out a shaky breath. I take out my phone and call Kelsey, and I walk to the stairs. She answers.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Kel, I'm freaking out. I kissed Elias."
"What?"
"I just had an impulse and went for it-"
"And?"
"And now we're dating.. I'm pretty sure."
"Pretty sure?"
I throw my head in my hand and say, "We didn't really say it."
She audibly laughs. "You're not very good at this."
"Shut up. I know."
"I'm happy for you, Seph."
I smile. "Thanks, Kel."

After I get off the phone with Kelsey, I hear the jiggle of my doorknob, and my heart drops as I quickly shove my phone under my pillow. The door opens. My father comes in and looks at me. I gulp nervously as the thought lingers in my mind that he somehow knew of my sinful act.
He walks over to me, and my fear grows, but it disintegrates when he reaches out to my hair and says, "Your roots are coming in." I don't speak. He hums. "Come on."
I stand almost instinctively and follow my father out of the room and into the bathroom. He snaps his finger at the tub, and I sit down on the edge of it.

As he does my hair, his touch is harsh and impatient—it burns my scalp, but I don't dare set my father off and tell him. In fact, I indulge in the pain. And he washes the bleach out. He leaves the bathroom after that, and I look up at myself in the mirror as my hair sorta falls flat. I press my hand against my head and wince at the stinging sensation—my eyes shut tight briefly, and I can't help but enjoy it, but it's always been that way.
I've always indulged in pain, but when my father hits me, it's a different kind of pain—it's sickening. It's overwhelming.
I turn away and leave to my bedroom. I sit on my bed and look over at the sound of my phone buzzing beneath my pillow. I take it out and see a few messages from Elias.
hey! 8:55pm.
how do you feel after what happened? 8:55pm.
are you okay? 9:48pm.
I quickly text back.
Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't have my phone with me. 9:49pm.
I answer, vaguely.
And why are you asking me that? 9:49pm.
My heart races, and so does my mind.
Is he having second thoughts? Is it that obvious that I'm terrified of messing up, and that my forced beliefs still linger in my mind?
I stare at the screen in panicked anticipation as he types, and I try to think optimistically.
I'm just overthinking.
He texts back.
i'm just worried about you is all. i know how you've felt about it before and i know those feelings don't just go away. 9:50pm.
I exhale shakily, my back pressing against the wall and I try to ignore the overwhelming pressure on my chest as panic settles in. My thumbs hover over the keyboard in uncertainty—what can I say to that?
He texts me again.
i guess what i'm saying is that it's okay if you need more time. 9:51pm.
Then suddenly, I know exactly what to say; it pours out of me subconsciously.
I like you a lot. I'm sure of that and that's all that matters to me. Yes, I'm scared, I'm terrified but my feelings for you mean way more than that. 9:51pm.
okay :). 9:51pm.
I let out another shaky breath, and relief washes over me.
Yeah. That's all that matters.

At school, I walk through the school gate and immediately, I see Elias. He smiles at me, and I walk over.
"Why aren't you in the courtyard with your friends?" I ask.
His smile grows. "I wanted to wait for you." I don't reply, and his gaze seemingly shifts up to my hair. "Did you bleach your hair?"
My heart skips a beat—just in the wrong way, and I tense. "Uh, yeah." I answer.
He reaches out and touches my hair, and I inadvertently tense more.
"It's really damaged." He says. "You should let me treat it, my mom used to bleach her hair all the time, and I would help, so I learned how to treat it."
My cheeks feel hot as I stare down at him—it's almost like I forgot how to act around him, but then again, I never really did.
He meets my gaze and smiles as his eyes examine my face briefly before looking back into my panicked eyes.
"Sure." I reply, my voice small and seemingly insecure—I hate it.
His smile grows. "Okay."
His hand leaves my hair, and he turns as the bell rings. I follow him into the school, and we walk to our class in peaceful silence.
His presence feels different, but it's a good difference—I feel free with him, not so trapped. I want to always be with him.
All my feelings for him have intensified, and my heart flutters; and my hands feel clammy.
He told me once that I didn't have to be nervous around him, but it's all I can be when all I think about is how much he brings these feelings out of me and how much I want to kiss him—it's like I can't breathe near him.
I almost fail the test, just knowing he's next to me is distraction enough, but I manage to keep my mind focused on the test, just enough.
And as we leave, Elias asks, "How do you think you did?"
I shrug. "Just good enough." I reply, and he huffs out a light laugh.
"Want to have lunch with me and my friends again?" He redirects once we're in the cafeteria.
"Sure. I'll wait at my table." I say.
He stares at me, his expression unreadable and he nods seemingly hesitantly. I know why, but I don't bring attention to it because I don't really want to talk about it, so I head to my table and sit down.
I know his worry for me grows everyday—it's obvious, and I hate making him worry. But I don't know what to do about it; I don't know if I can change when it's all I've ever known. It's what I've always done—how can I just stop? I just want to feel control over my life.
"Joseph?" I look up at Elias' gentle voice, and he smiles, but I still see the concern in his eyes. "Ready?"
I nod and stand. He leads me over to his table, and we sit. I look up to each of them briefly, and Spencer glares at me. I look away and over at Kelsey—she looks out of it.
I reach out and tap her on the arm, and she seemingly flinches at my touch before meeting my gaze.
"Are you okay?" I mouth to her.
She only nods and looks away. Obviously, I'm not convinced, but I know how bad it feels to be pried, so I turn away.
I know she'll come to me when she's ready to talk about whatever it is that's bothering her.