Becky Baker loves God.
Of this, she is absolutely sure. In fact, it just might be the only thing she's sure of in her life right now.
Jenna Middleton kissed her. The sentence has been bouncing around in her head for the past two days now, overtaking every other thought, distracting her from even the most basic of tasks. She can't focus on school without picturing how hurt Jenna looked when she was told to get out; she can't talk to her father without feeling the shame coiled deep in her stomach at the feeling of Jenna's lips pressed against her own; and she can't face Jenna herself without wanting to simultaneously demand to know why and to push her away and never turn back. But not forgiving isn't a very Christian thing to do, is it?
She just has to figure out a way to do it, that's all.
—
She prays for guidance. She prays for some kind of way for this all to be fixed to fall out of the sky and land in her lap, even though she knows in the back of her mind that it's a ridiculous wish.
She takes out her father's copy of the Bible, the big one that has his name inscribed on it and the inlaid gold. She and her brother spent a lot of their childhood just gazing at this book, although Luke just liked the way it looked while Becky liked the idea behind all of it. It was comforting to know that there was a set of rules outlined in a nicely bound book that you followed so that God would love you and keep you safe.
She finds the passages she's looking for and reads all she can find about homosexuality, her fingers tracing the undersides of the lines as she whispers them out loud.
Lev. 18:22; "You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination."
1 Cor. 6:9-10; "Or do you not know that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor homosexuals, nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers, shall inherit the kingdom of God."
There's a little pang in her heart as she thinks about what this will mean. Even after all that's happened, she's still worried about what this will mean for Jenna, about how this incident will affect her entrance into Heaven. There's a sick churning in her stomach as she rereads the passages over and over until the words are imprinted in her mind and she wants to vomit.
She closes the Bible softly and carefully replaces it on her father's desk before slipping out of his study.
—
She catches Jenna staring at her in class on Monday morning. They haven't spoken since The Incident (she can't bring herself to call it a kiss anymore, not after reading from the Bible) and she can tell that Jenna wants to say something to her. The way her mouth is set and how her eyes are open and honest tells Becky that, and when she takes a step towards her desk after the bell rings, Becky sweeps her books into her bag and leaves in a hurry.
It goes against everything that she's ever known: to just forgive, especially when someone seems genuinely sorry, but she doesn't know if she can ever do that with Jenna. WIth anyone else, she probably could - and would - but it doesn't seem possible with her.
—
When she asks her father about homosexuals and how Christians are supposed to respond to them, he's somewhat kinder than she thought he would be. Maybe she expected fire and brimstone, perhaps, but what she didn't expect was for him to shrug his shoulders, take off his glasses, and start giving her a small lecture.
He tells her that being gay is a sin according to the Bible, so gay people are sinners, but Jesus taught us to forgive sinners and help them on their path to Heaven. If not, they're turned away from Heaven and sent to Hell for all eternity. Becky wants to grab hold of her hair and tell him to tell her anything but that.
She opens their front door with more force than she ever has before and takes the steps two at a time, feeling suffocated in her house. She finds her way to her backyard and sits underneath her favorite oak tree, back against the rough bark. Her hand clasps around the rosary that she has tucked in her pocket, and, without thinking, she starts mouthing the words to the Hail Mary, something that she's been doing since she was a child.
With every couple of lines, something new flickers past her closed eyelids.
Hail Mary, full of grace,
our Lord is with thee.
Jenna's gaze, caught with hers, eyes bluer than Becky's ever seen on any human being before. The kind of blue that she can see herself getting lost in, drowning, even, if no one throws her a life ring.
Blessed art thou amongst women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
The way Becky's breath caught in her throat when she realized just how close they were to each other. How aware she was of Jenna's thigh pressed against hers, how their hands were only an inch away from touching. How Jenna set every nerve ending in her body ablaze at once in a way no boy ever had.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
How much she had liked kissing Jenna Middleton. How much she wanted to do it again.
Now and at the hour of our death.
Amen.