VI
Jed sighed heavily, and grimaced down at his books. When had theology become so complicated?
Somewhere along the line, his subject of choice had become a spider's web. The more he tried to push on through to conclusions, the more tangled up he became. Even the things that a few weeks ago had seemed certain to him were now far less simple to wrap his head around.
This wasn't the way it was supposed to work. You broke a question down, and fitted the pieces back together until you had at least some part of an answer. You weren't supposed to break it down and find it fractured into a billion other questions, all of which grew until they were every bit as complicated as the first.
He was sure this wasn't what he was supposed to be doing. Examining his faith was supposed to help him understand it, not shake it around until he couldn't be sure of its foundations anymore.
He believed in God. He wanted to serve God. Jed probed those basic building blocks cautiously, and was relieved when they still held firm. But everything else was so confused... how long until the very centre of his faith gave way?
The priesthood had been the unspoken assumption ever since school, through his first year of college; the decision that was so simple it didn't need to be decided. Now... now he wasn't sure that he could be a priest, he wasn't sure that he wanted to be, and worse, he really didn't know what he could hope to be if he wasn't.
Jed was becoming increasingly uncertain of who he was. He'd thought all along that he'd been destined for the church, but if he was wrong... well then, who was the stranger left wearing the face of that imaginary man, the man he'd always thought he was?
He needed a smoke.
The thought startled him a little. He didn't smoke at college, he hadn't done all last year. Smoking was for home, when life with his father became close to unbearable. Smoking was rebellion. What did he have to rebel against here?
Still, maybe it would help. He would go outside, walk down to buy some cigarettes, clear his head a little.
If there was one thing he needed right now, it was a clearer head. He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and headed for the door.
"So I'll see you later, then?"
"Sure." Abbey stood on tiptoes to plant a brief kiss on Ron, and he smiled fondly at her.
"Want me to walk you home?"
"No, I'm okay. I was thinking I might walk down to the bookstore, actually."
Ron rolled his eyes theatrically. "Not more medical books?"
"Hey, I have to learn somehow," she shrugged.
"Some of us wait until we, you know, actually start college."
"Well, that's because you're slow," she teased.
He grinned, and gave her a squeeze before lightly kissing her forehead. "Call me?"
"I will," she promised.
Abbey watched him go, and sighed. She'd had a perfectly pleasant date with Ron, but... Well, there wasn't really a but. There wasn't really an anything. She'd just been sitting, making stupid, nothing conversation with Ron, and... And she couldn't help thinking about her conversation with Jed the other night, and how she never talked with Ron like that.
Which was totally not fair. Because Ron was her boyfriend and sweet and adorable and he'd just bought her lunch, and of course he wasn't as interested in talking about dreams and big thinking and all that kind of deep stuff as somebody who was going to be a priest.
A priest. That was still a bit of a 'whoa' thought. How could somebody who was only a few years older than her already be so certain that they were ready to dedicate their entire life to that kind of selfless service?
She hadn't told Ron about meeting Jed. She knew he'd only fuss about her offering him a ride, just like her parents had. And it seemed more than a little unfair to go on and on about how she'd only just met this guy but he really understood her, really connected to what she was talking about. Ron always tried so hard to take an interest in all the things she cared about.
Abbey wandered down to the bookshop, but when she went in Jed wasn't at the counter. She poked around and looked at books for a few minutes, then finally decided she was being an idiot. She went up to the young man serving. "Uh, excuse me?"
"Hi, how can I help you, miss?" he said cheerfully.
"Oh, I was just, um, I was just wondering, is Jed here?"
"Jed?" He smiled at her. "No, he's not working today. You're a friend of his?"
"Sort of. A bit. We go to the same church," she explained, feeling a stab of disappointment.
"Ah." He grinned. "Did he ever tell you what the Jed's short for?"
"No...?" she said curiously.
He leaned in, and winked. "Stands for Jethro," he told her authoritatively.
She doubted that very much, but she had to grin anyway. "Okay."
"Yeah. Want me to tell him you stopped by when I see him next?"
"No, that's okay." After all, it was no big deal. She'd just said she'd maybe call by sometime.
"Okay," he shrugged.
"Thanks." She headed out of the door of the store, and almost walked straight into Jed.
He felt his face split into a huge smile. "Abbey! Hey."
She grinned back, and then tilted her head to regard him curiously. "You're smoking?"
Jed looked down at the cigarette in his hand as if he'd only just noticed it.
"I do that sometimes," he admitted.
"Not very priestly of you, Jethro."
He frowned. "Jeth- Oh, God, you haven't been speaking to that idiot in there, have you?"
She laughed, a delightful trickle of a sound that made his spine tingle. "Is that your name?"
"No, it's not," he scowled.
"Well, it's not just Jed, is it?"
"It's definitely not Jethro." They were walking along side by side now, although he had no idea where they were going.
"So what's it short for?"
"What do you care?" he asked with a smile.
Abbey shrugged, pretending to be offended. "Fine, I'll just call you Jethro, then."
"It's not actually short for anything," he admitted. "It's just what my parents started calling me." He sat down on a nearby low wall and took a puff on his cigarette; she sat down beside him, resting her elbows on her knees.
"So what's your real name then, Jethro?"
He gave her a look, and then flicked his gaze away, embarrassed. "Josiah," he admitted quietly.
To his surprise, she didn't laugh. "Josiah Bartlett?" she said, frowning for a moment over the familiarity of the name. "Like on the Declaration of Independence?"
He looked up at her, surprised. "I'm one of his descendants," he admitted. "Only without the second T on Bartlet."
"What happened to it?"
Jed laughed and shook his head. "I don't know," he shrugged.
"Huh," she snorted. "Call yourself a history buff?"
He gave her a look. "I never said that."
"Yeah, but I can tell."
He laughed. "Busted," he admitted, and took another puff of his cigarette.
"So what are you doing out here, Josiah Jethro Bartlet without the second T who wants to be a priest?"
He smiled at her. "I don't know," he admitted. He almost told her he wasn't so sure he still wanted to be a priest, but he didn't. "Why are you here?"
Abbey smiled, and shrugged. "I don't know, either."
"Well, I guess we're a couple of losers, wandering the streets on our own."
"Yeah. You think we wouldn't be such losers if we wandered the streets together?"
"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt." He looked across at her, and they shared a quick smile.