Page 19 of Biblical Knowledge
A ripple of uneasy laughter traveled through the room.
“Now.”She opened the Bible with practiced precision.“Song of Songs, chapter one, verse two.”She read aloud: ‘Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for your love is better than wine.’
Her lips curled faintly.“There you have it.No coyness.No euphemism.Just the blunt, ecstatic voice of desire.”She looked around the room, daring anyone to squirm.“The ancients did not separate lust from love.They understood them as entwined.Desire was life.And it was sacred.”
She flipped a page.“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine; he grazes among the lilies.”
Dr.Scheinbaum arched an eyebrow.“Grazes among the lilies.Do we need to decode the metaphor?Or have you all been on the internet?”
Laughter rippled again, though Henry’s head sank even lower, his pen suddenly very busy.His blush deepened, and I caught myself biting back a grin.
Of course, that was the moment Rebecca raised her hand.Her halo braid gleamed in the light as she said primly, “Professor, I can’t help but wonder… would God really approve of this?These… indulgences?Isn’t the purpose of love supposed to be purity, not fleshly lust?”
The room went still.
Dr.Scheinbaum removed her glasses with exaggerated care, folded them, and set them on the lectern.Her platinum bob swung slightly as she tilted her head.“Miss Lyle, are you asking me if God approves of desire?”
Rebecca lifted her chin, a saccharine smile in place.“Yes.Surely this can’t be what God intended.”
For a beat, silence.Then, Dr.Scheinbaum’s laugh—sharp, incredulous.“My dear, if God did not intend desire, then why on earth did God make us this way?Do you think libido was a cosmic accident?That the Creator tripped and spilled yearning into the human design?”
Rebecca’s cheeks flushed pink, but she held her posture, prim and stubborn.
“Consider this instead,” Dr.Scheinbaum continued, her voice cutting clean through the air.“If God made us to hunger, wouldn’t it be a sin not to eat?If God made us to love, to crave, to reach for one another, then wouldn’t it be the greater sin to suppress it?At the very least”—her lips curved in a dry smile—“I suspect God, he or she or they, would be amused watching us flail in denial.”
The class broke into laughter, except for Rebecca, who squirmed in her seat as though her halo braid had tightened into a noose.
Dr.Scheinbaum snapped the Bible closed.“Enough.I’ve had my daily ration of human absurdity.Pair off with your partners, drag yourselves to the library, and pretend to work on your projects.Perhaps when you return tomorrow, you’ll have grown a collective brain cell.”
The room erupted into noise: chairs scraping, backpacks zipping, conversations bubbling.Rebecca practically flew out of her chair, racing to get out of the room.
I stood, slung my bag over my shoulder, and walked straight up to Henry’s table.He was still packing his notes, fumbling like his hands didn’t quite know how to function.
I leaned down just enough to catch his profile, my voice low, steady.“Let’s go to the library.”
He couldn’t meet my gaze.His hands froze for a moment, then he shoved the last of his notes into his bag.Without a word, he stood and followed me out of the room.
The walk to the library was all silence.
Henry’s shoulder brushed mine once in the crowded hallway, and he immediately edged away, clutching the strap of his bag like it was some kind of shield.I bit my tongue to keep from saying something—anything—that might spook him further.Every instinct in me screamed to tease him, to call him out, to dig at whatever it was that made him blush that way.But I couldn’t.Not yet.He was a skittish animal, and I wasn’t about to send him bolting down the hall again.
We passed Rebecca in the corridor, her halo braid bobbing as she clutched her Bible to her chest like it was armor.Her lips pinched into disapproval the moment she saw me.We’d never spoken a single word to each other.Perhaps she sensed that I thought she was a stuck up pious prig?
I smirked, leaning close enough for Henry to hear.“Bet she dreams in black-and-white.Poor girl probably faints if she sees an exposed ankle.”
Henry’s eyes flicked to me, just for a second, but he said nothing.Not a word.
The silence between us stretched all the way into the library.When we stepped inside, it was packed.Every table was crammed with students, laptops glowing, the air thick with whispered study sessions and the shuffle of books.
“Well, this is useless,” I muttered.Then I jerked my chin toward the back.“Private study rooms.Bet there’s one open.”
We weaved through the maze of tables and shelves, all the way to the rear.And there it was: a single empty study room, glass walls, a tiny table wedged in the middle, with two chairs pressed close together.
“This’ll work.”I reached for the door.
Henry froze.“Wait—uh—we might need something from the stacks, or—” He gestured vaguely, his words tangling.“Maybe we should just—”
“This is it,” I cut him off, sharper than I meant to, but I couldn’t stop myself.“Come on.Let’s get to work.”
