Change of Heart (A Faith-Based Gay Romance)

Chapter 5: "Open Wounds"

"What's it like for you at home?" Dean unlocked the motel room door and motioned Timothy inside, then followed after him. The boy hadn't left his side since they had walked out of the church together. Dean didn't mind; Timothy was good company and for an almost sixteen-year-old, he was quite perceptive and intuitive. Dean suspected it had been a long time since the boy had had someone he could really talk to, feel comfortable and safe with.

"I don't know," Timothy mumbled. "Sometimes it's okay. Sometimes not. Mom and dad mostly leave me alone now. When I first left the program, and stopped wanting to go to church, they constantly tried to get me to go back—to both. They kept warning me that my immortal soul was at stake." He shrugged. "I told them I didn't care, that God hated me so...I hated him, too. After a while, they stopped trying."

Dean dropped the motel key on the small table near the kitchenette. "Did you?" he asked. "Hate God?"

Timothy wandered over to the nearest of the two twin beds and sat down on the end. "No," he whispered. "But I thought he hated me. I didn't want to go back because it hurt to feel so...unwanted by him." Tears shimmered and he looked at Dean, uncertainty swimming in his eyes. "What you said today...is it really true, Pastor Mitchell? Does God really love us the way we are?"

"It's true, Tim," he said softly. "I promise. God loves you very much. Do you believe that?"

Ducking his head, Timothy nodded. "I do now." He picked at the leg of his jeans. "He proved it to me today." He looked up, his tears thicker. "If you hadn't come here, if God hadn't sent you..." he swallowed thickly. "Something bad would have happened to me."

"What?" Dean frowned and walked over and sat beside him. "What do you mean, Tim? What would have happened?"

With trembling hands, Timothy slowly pulled up the sleeves of his shirt—revealing shallow scars on his wrists and forearms. "I...I was practicing...trying to build up the courage to do it for real."

"Oh, Tim..." Dean stared in quiet horror at the visible evidence of the depth of Timothy's pain. Tears welled up and ran down his face. Dean wrapped his arms around the boy and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry," he cried quietly. "I'm so sorry, Tim."

Timothy trembled on a sob. "I was going to do it tonight. But then you came back...and I don't know why, but I just wanted to see you one last time."

Dean held him closer and cried with him.

Timothy raised his head, tears wetting his face. "Even if the people at church are mad at you for what you said..." his chin trembled. "...it saved my life. You saved my life."

Dean stood up and walked over to the small round table, his back to Timothy. His hand covered his mouth as tears streamed down his face. "Thank you, Jesus," he whispered brokenly. "Thank you." He took a deep breath and wiped his face, then turned around. "At the church," he murmured. "Out front, you said that you didn't want God to see you because he knew what you'd done, who you'd been with. What did you mean?"

Lowering his eyes, Timothy whispered, "I never told anyone about him."

"About who?"

"Elliot."

Dean returned to the bed and sat down. "Will you tell me about him?"

Timothy nodded. "I met him after you left. He was new here, but he didn't go to our school. He was homeschooled. I met him at the arcade." He fell silent and stared at the floor. His words cracked when he spoke again. "He was a couple years older than me. Some kids at the arcade were bullying me, calling me...faggot. Everyone knew I was in the program at church. They all knew I was gay. Elliot made them leave me alone, then we went for a walk down by the swimming hole and he told me he was gay, too. We stayed there till it was almost dark, just...talking." He bit his lip, his voice dropping. "He was so nice, Pastor Mitchell. I liked him so much."

"You're speaking in past tense," Dean observed. "Are you and Elliot not friends anymore?"

Fresh tears filled Timothy's eyes. "I told him about the program," he whispered. "About how hard I'd tried to change, how scared I was that I was going to hell."

"What did he say?"

"He asked me why I wanted to change. He said..." Timothy's face pinched in anguish. "...he said he really liked me just the way I was and he didn't want me to change. He told me...he said I was beautiful and amazing and that...God made me that way."

Dean swallowed thickly. "He sounds wonderful. What happened between you?"

Timothy leaned against Dean and sobbed. "I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him. You'd never lied to me, and you said God wanted me to change, that he would change me and everything would be so much better. I-I didn't know how to like myself, or accept who I was. I...I fell in love with Elliot, Pastor Mitchell, he wanted to be my boyfriend. I said yes, at first, because I loved him so much and I felt so good when I was with him. But..." he pressed against Dean, choking on a sob. "...but when he kissed me...I felt dirty. But I still wanted him to kiss me and...and hold me...but after a while, I couldn't take the shame. He told me our love was beautiful in God's eyes but I didn't believe him. I-I ran away from him, Pastor Mitchell. I told him I couldn't be his boyfriend anymore and...and I just ran away."

"Tim..."

He clung to Dean, sobbing his heart out. "I broke his heart, Pastor Mitchell. I hurt him so bad."

"It wasn't your fault, Tim," Dean whispered shakily. "It was mine. And everyone else who wouldn't just let you be who God made you to be." Dean held him until the boy's sobs eased. "Is Elliot still around? Do you ever see him?"

Timothy sat up and wiped his face. "Sometimes. When he sees me, he always stops and looks at me like he hopes I'll come over and talk to him." He ducked his head. "But I never do. I...I just pretend I don't see him and walk away."

"Sounds like he still misses you," Dean murmured softly and rubbed Timothy's back. "Maybe you should go see him."

Trembling, Timothy looked up. "Do you really think he wants to see me, too?"

"If I was a betting man," Dean smiled, "I'd wager on it."

Lowering his eyes, Timothy whispered, "I'm scared. I think I really hurt him."

"You leaving hurt him," Dean said gently. "You coming back might just heal that hurt."

Timothy asked quietly, "Is that what you were hoping would happen with Nicholas?"

Dean closed his eyes. "Yeah." He sighed and forced a smile. "But Nicholas is okay now. He's happy. He..." Dean's heart pinched. "He doesn't need anything from me anymore."

"You don't know that for sure," Timothy offered quietly.

A part of Dean wanted to believe that maybe everything with Nicholas wasn't as it appeared. Then he considered Amanda and guilt pressed in on him; he wished her no heartache. Maybe losing Nicholas was the price he had to pay for misleading the youth of the church...and then running away and leaving Nicholas behind to struggle with a broken heart as well as his sexual identity.

"Pastor Mitchell?"

"Yeah, Tim?"

"Would you...would you come with me to see Elliot?"

Dean smiled and cleared his throat. "Absolutely."