Chapter Twenty-Two
Illias
“For ye are yet carnal: for whereas there is among you envying, and strife, and divisions, are ye not carnal, and walk as men?”
- 1 Corinthians 3:3 KJV
“Illias Raymond Koller!” Charity hollered, the door to the shelter slamming shut behind her as she stormed into the yard.
Illias froze at the sight of his fuming best friend, not expecting to see her at the shelter while she was still dressed in work clothes. Charity stopped dead in front of him and shoved her finger into his sternum.
“Me, you, inside, now,” she demanded.
Illias glanced at his group that had paused when Charity busted through the door. They looked at him with various expressions. Some wide eyed. Some of them barely containedtheir amusement. Some worried for him. He gave them a reassuring smile and nod. “Go ahead and take a break, I’ll see you guys later,” he told them.
Charity grabbed his hand, dragging him into Saint Anthony’s without another word. He matched her pace—which was rather easy considering he was mostly leg anyways—but didn’t question why she was in such a frazzled state. She pulled him into the supplies closet, shoved him towards the opposite side, then closed the door. Illias leaned against the shelves, waiting for her to start explaining why she hijacked him from his group. He could almost see her vibrating with contained energy the longer they stood in silence.
“Okay,” she said, voice hushed as to not alert anyone outside the closet. “So, I tell you to talk to Father Cantrell, like, what, a week ago?” Illias opened his mouth to respond but she immediately held up her hand. “And then you go ghost,again?” She turned her head slightly to the left, side-eyeing him through narrowed eyelids. “Care to explain?”
Illias looked down at his feet. “So, do you want a real answer or a comfortable answer?”
Charity sputtered for a moment before hitting his shoulder. “The real answer, dummy.”
“I talked to Cantrell after he gave me that note. Things are…”Weird. A little unclear. What I wanted but somehow not at the same time.“Okay?”
“And?” She dragged out the word, looking at him expectingly.
“I think we’re in a fuckbuddies situation.”
“Oh my God!” She gasped, eyes widening and eyebrows shooting to her hairline. “What the actual fuck—you have got to be kidding me. I told you to be—”
“Careful, I know.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “I am being careful—”
“Careful does not mean secretlyscrewthe priest!” she hissed.
“You don’t think I know that?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “God, fuck,” he sighed. “I’m not fucking him, by the way,” he clarified. “We’re just messing around. It’s just something to keep my mind off—”How shitty I am as a friend and son. “Look, it’s nothing serious. Okay? You don’t have to worry.”
Charity pinched the brim of her nose. “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t worry about my best friend, quote unquote, messing around with our priest?”
“Lower your voice!” He cut his eyes towards the door at the sound of footsteps.
The footsteps grew closer then faded again. Charity crossed her arms. “Remember when we were twelve and we made the pact that we’re allowed one super truth a year and it can be pulled at any time?”
“You can’t be—”
“I want to cash in my super truth.”
“Right now? Here?” he asked, praying that she would back out given where they were.
“Illias. Super truth.”
“Fuck, fine,” he groaned, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I’ve been using the confessional to tell Cantrell my fantasies and now I may or may not have entered some pseudo-dynamic with him. And every time I get around him, I go stupid and flirt with him like a moron. So really, the only thing you should be worried about is the fact you’re friends with a colossal dumbass that apparently has the world's most inconvenient taste in men.” He dropped his head and gestured vaguely. “There, there’s your super truth.”
“Jesus, Eli.” She rubbed her face. “Are you actually insane? Like I understand that you have, like, athingfor him, but he’s a priest. You could ruin so much for him if he gets caught messing around with you!”
“I don’t have athingfor him.” He paused when she gave him ayeah rightlook. “I mean, why would I even—that doesn’t even make sense—I mean seriously why would I—” He pressed his lips together in a thin line and huffed through his nose. “This is fucking ridiculous. I don’t have feelings for our fuckin—”
The closet door opened and both of them jumped like teens caught doing something inappropriate. Illias whipped his head to the side to see who opened the door only to see the topic of the conversation. Charity politely excused herself, squeezing past Cantrell and not-so-subtly bolting away from the closet. Illias fought the urge to do the same. Face growing warm as Cantrell’s eyes trailed down his body like he was taking in all the little details to commit them to memory. Illias wore a heavily cropped tank top with the name of some band he didn’t know, and a pair of low-rise jeans that were more hole than jeans. Cantrell’s eyes lingered on Illias’ hips where his star tattoos were before meeting his eyes again.
