against the works of the flesh//frerard

chapter twelve

So Friday finally comes and Frank is going to Father Way's house after school. On the drive there, Father Way tries to engage Frank in a conversation, but he remains absolutely quiet, staring out the window. He only speaks when Father Way asks if he's alright, and he lies, "I think I might be getting sick, but don't worry. I've just had... a couple of harsh days."

"Nothing about the essay, I hope?"

"No. The essay is going fine." Frank grows quiet again, looking straight ahead this time. Even when they get to the house and Father Way stops the car in the driveway, and even when they get inside and walk to the library. Frank keeps to himself and out of Father Way's way.

He sits down immediately, with a heavy sigh, and gets his backpack, but Father Way sits sideways on a corner of the desk. He puts a hand over Frank's, over the zipper of his bag, staying quiet for a while. When Frank looks up, wanting to ask what he wants, Father Way asks, almost sweetly, "What's wrong, Frank? You're not yourself today, or even yesterday in church. You're clearly annoyed at something, or at least keeping something inside, and you should let it out. Is there something wrong at home, or—"

"It's nothing," Frank lies again. He shrugs his shoulders in a vague gesture and opens his backpack, despite Father Way's hand over his. The priest pulls back at last and sighs as Frank takes his notebook and pens, and asks, "Could I just — I'd like to just focus on my work today, if that's alright with you?

"Of course," Father Way replies, nodding. He sets his briefcase on the couch and gets a book from inside it. The cover says something about Saul of Tarsus, and Frank refrains from wondering if it's porn or not. He looks at the top shelf and sighs, trying to focus in closing his eyes and thinking of his essay. He doesn't need any more of this tension. He has already had an awful week and needs to calm the fuck down and stick to his plan.

thought of finishing reading this book and asking for a new one, but use that excuse to approach the issue of the erotica books with Father Way. Today, Frank thinks he can do it, because he's been so frustrated about keeping this to himself and has gotten unusually moody because of it. He also knows that, if he doesn't do it today, he never will.

After a while, the constant sounds of Father Way shifting on the couch are really distracting Frank, just like the light coughing, and Father Way clearing his throat or turning the pages. It's like he's trying to get Frank's attention, but it turns out to be very annoying to the point where Frank sits up straight on the chair and closes his book, sounding horribly loud in the library. He turns around to find Father Way closing his own book and looking up.

"You need something?" Father Way asks, with an expectant look.

Frank stays silent only for a little while, before he decides to be brave and just face it, admit this whole thing that has been making everything so fucking weird for Frank and tense between them. He starts by saying, "I need you to tell me the truth."

Father Way frowns. Looking at him and not finding enough confidence in the priest's gaze, Frank takes a deep breath and focus. "Why are you so protective of your books on that top shelf?" he asks, nonchalantly. He can't stop this now, or divert his question.

"I treat all my books just the same, so I'm not sure I understand what you mean. Even so, these books are old and I've gained much interest in most of them over the years," Father Way replies in his oblivious tone of voice, telling Frank something he doesn't want to hear.

don't understand?" Frank repeats, making Father Way shake his head no. Frank repeats the gesture, thinking of his plan and what he wants to say. "Well, let me just... lay it out for you. The other day, when I fell off the chair, I had just read from one of those books up there on the top shelf. I know what you hide behind those fake covers."