Bullet // Choni One-Shots

Do Not Mistake My Grace For Weakness (Part Three)

My mother found out about me and Heather shortly after we started kissing.

When I was little, I used to think my mother was a proxy to God, because she seemed to know everything I did even when she wasn't around. (Later, I'd realize that I was right, except her eyes and ears were paid to keep track of me instead of being divinely granted.) So, I spent the majority of my childhood terrified to make a wrong move in fear of incurring my mother's wrath.

Heather was afraid of nothing. It made sense, because next to mine, her family seemed like a bunch of hippies. The Nguyens worked in tech and drove a Prius around, went to brunch and had gay friends, although they never acknowledged them to be. It was always "oh, Mark, he's... you know." They were still slightly homophobic, but in the way that creeps up on you, saying that it's okay if everyone can get married as long as it isn't their own children. I've always wondered if that makes it better or worse.

But her fearlessness made us sloppy. One of the maids found us when she was making her morning rounds, kissing on the bed. She said nothing, just closed the door behind her, but I knew the damage was done. Heather ran out the door. I knew, even before my mother called her family and sent them away, that I'd never see her again.

-

I don't tell the group about this, even though I could, because I don't want Sister Woodhouse to have access to my memories of Heather. To taint them. Instead, I talk about all those years I spent in hiding, before I knew what I was hiding.

"Earlier, I guess, I thought about girls."

Sister Woodhouse nods approvingly and motions for me to continue, so I say, "My brother, Jason and I, when we were kids... We'd play this game. He'd point to the other girls on the playground and we'd rate them. Say if they were pretty... if they were nice. We said we were picking out his future wife, because he wanted to marry someone I'd approve of, since we were going to spend the rest of our life together. He asked me if I wanted to do the same for the boys, but I didn't see the appeal. I told him I didn't need a husband."

It's clear that I've said too much by the way Sister Woodhouse's eyes narrow at me. "Can you talk more about your brother, Jason?"

A knot grows in my throat. I realize what I've done. I've given them access to my greatest weakness. I start to shake my head, but the look in her eyes makes me scared for the alternative, so I say, "He was my twin brother. He died over a year ago."

"How did he die?" She asks, although I'm sure she already knows. Even if my mother didn't tell her, the Riverdale Register was filled with articles and think pieces about my father for weeks after he was arrested.

"I don't want to talk about that."

I see Kevin and Toni preparing to back me up, but Sister Woodhouse doesn't relent. "I think, Cheryl, that your brother's murder has had a deeper effect on you than you realize. You remember him liking women, and you want to fill the hole that he left in your life, so you desire them as well. Your brother may very well be the root of your imbalance."

I want to punch Sister Woodhouse in the throat. I want to tell her that Jason has never been anything but a source of good in my life, the only person who ever truly loved me, that she's despicable for bringing his death into this. But the knot in my throat won't stop growing and I can't quite seem to remember how to breathe.

Toni seems to recognize my agitation, because she raises her hand and says, "Sister Woodhouse, I'd like to share."

Sister Woodhouse gives an exasperated sigh, but answers, "Yes, Antoinette, what would you like to say?"

"I've also had sinful thoughts recently."

Sister Woodhouse looks pleased with this development, so she motions for her to continue. Toni's got a rebellious glimmer in her eyes that makes me want to shush her before she gets herself in trouble. "Yeah. Just today, I thought about doing all kinds of sinful things with them."