Page 14 of Heathens
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“I was starting to feel abandoned,” Julia purrs as I walk through the door, resting back into my bed with a book in her lap. “You were gone for a while.”
Abandoned? I doubt she’s ever felt abandoned, lost, wandering. Not like I have.
“I got held up,” I explain, hanging my denim jacket on the hook by the door. I hate how she’s made herself at home here. It feels wrong somehow. I pull up a chair and sit down across from the bed. She pouts and pats the bed next to her. I shake my head.
“What’s up, Salem?” She sits up straighter and her voice is no longer playful. Her plush lips and long, dark hair—two things that once intrigued me to no end—no longer hold their appeal. Even her see-through nightie... My groin throbs with heat, but I ignore it.
“I’m going back to school,” I start slowly. Her eyebrows arch upwards. “I’ve... I’ve been trying to find my place in the world for some time, and tonight... everything just clicked.”
“That’s cool,” she says, crossing her arms. We’ve never exactly been... close, Julia and I. It’s more of a physical relationship, and right now, I know she doesn’t really care what I say as long as my face is between her legs later. “What are you going back to school for?”
I grip the edge of the chair at her tone. It’s as if she’s talking to a child. “I’m going to seminary school.”
She stares at me, her mouth stuck in a half-smile, half-surprised ‘O.' I don’t know why I’m telling her. I just need to tellsomeone.
“Seminary school.” She says it like it’s a joke. “You’regoing to seminary school?”
I bite down on my anger. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
She cackles. “Oh, you’re serious.” Still laughing, she throws the duvet off of her and gets out of the bed. “So I guess we’re not fucking tonight.” Her tits are barely contained in her tight nightie. I clench my jaw. What was I thinking? I love sex. Women. Drinking. The occasional recreational drug. Swearing. Just watching Julia bend over and grab her shirt, looking at the way her thong glides between her voluptuous ass...
I’m going to hell.
“Do you need help packing your things?” I ask, and she makes a disgusted noise before stepping into her heels.
She stops suddenly and turns to face me. “You’re really doing this?”
I nod. “I’m really doing this.”
“You’re going to be a priest?”
I nod again. “One day. Hopefully.”
She blows an exasperated breath out of her mouth and shakes her head. “You’re going to make a terrible priest.”
I don’t move. Can’t. Not that I need her validation, but it still stings. The wound is still too fresh. “Why do you say that?” Though I already know what she’s going to say. The cigarettes, the bottles of whiskey, the dirty shoes... I’m not exactly pious.
But I want to be. I want it more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” she mutters, not answering my question. She grabs her things and holds them to her chest as she stalks to the door.
I jump up and block her from leaving, crossing my arms. Staring down into her honey brown eyes, I mutter my next words. “You don’t know me. Not really.”
I’m not sure what hurts more—that she doesn’t really know me, or that I don’t care if she does.
Her pretty face winces at that, but she soon recovers and pats my shoulder. “Baby, your soul belongs to the darkness of the night.”
And then she’s gone.
And all I can think about is a Joseph Campbell quote that Father Monsignor used tonight.
The dark night of the soul comes just before revelation. When everything is lost, and all seems dark, then comes the new life and all that is needed.
Your Halo’s on Fire
Lily
