“I feel like an idiot,” I groaned as he explained it to me a second time.
“A lot of students are struggling with these parables. I should have picked something easier for the freshmen.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. We might not have become friends otherwise. You’re the highlight of my Wednesday mornings, Father Garrett,” I declared.
He chuckled and looked at me wearing a charming grin, and I felt my face blushing. He was too handsome sometimes. In moments like that, I felt something more than friendship between us. I cleared my throat and reached to turn the page of the textbook. In my flummoxed state, I bumped my hand on the edge of the desk and dropped my pen, simultaneously knocking Father Garrett’s pen off the desk too.
“Crap, sorry,” I grumbled.
We bent down at the same time to retrieve them and bumped our heads.
“Ouch, sorry again,” I groaned and rubbed my head.
“Ditto,” he grumbled and rubbed his forehead.
“You stay there. I’ll get the pens,” I said.
“No, you stay there and let me get the pens. I’m less accident-prone. Don’t move,” he ordered.
He slipped out of his chair and knelt on the floor to grab his pen from under the desk. Mine had bounced under my chair. He searched the floor for a second before he spotted it. His hair brushed the side of my right calf as he reached under my chair to grab it, sending a shiver up my spine. I had never had a man’s head so close to my legs before. He could have easily looked up my skirt. I watched him with my face burning as he raised his head and offered me my pen. His forearm was almost touching my knee. Then I felt his breath on my legs. It made me feel tingly as it drifted up my skirt between my thighs. His brow creased when he saw my blush. Then his eyes drifted down to my legs. They were a few inches away from his chin and lips. My uniform skirt was short and left a lot of me on display. Father Garrett hesitated as he admired my smooth skin. I watched a blush redden his cheeks before he quickly climbed back into his chair. We stared at each other for a moment. His expression was serious, almost a scowl, making me feel strange and vulnerable. I wished I knew what he was thinking. Suddenly, he closed his eyes and turned away from me. He propped his elbows on his desk and leaned his face in his hands. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he spoke without looking up.
“Sorry about that, Zoe. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” I shrugged.
What I felt at that moment was surprisingly pleasant, and I only felt it when I was close to Father Garrett. My sheltered and socially-anxious existence kept me away from boys my age. I enjoyed being close to the handsome priest for that reason, but I feared it was distressing him. I was smart enough to understand why. A priest being overly-friendly with female students was a fast way to get fired. It would be just as devastating for me. Father Garrett had become my closest friend. We shared our grief and saw the world from a broken perspective. I never wanted to hurt him or lose him. I wasn’t sure if he felt the same about me, and I didn’t really care. I wanted to be his friend and spend time with him.
“Um, it’s getting late. Can you explain the parable one more time before class starts?”
“Sure,” he nodded, quickly composing himself.
Father Garrett kept his eyes to himself as he explained the complicated story again. I was hurt by his behavior. The delight of my day was seeing him smile. Now he was acting like I was a thing to avoid. I felt rejected again. I had to fight to keep from pouting during class as he avoided looking at me. He usually met my eyes to see my reactions to his stories. Now he was actively avoiding me. Thinking about it brought me to tears later that night.
Chapter 3: Reasons
The chill between us continued for two more weeks. It was breaking my heart and hurting my grade. I couldn’t focus on my work when Father Garrett wouldn’t even look at me when he said hello. We went from friends to enemies in an instant, and I didn’t understand why. I confronted him about it the following Wednesday. He had shuffled his routine to avoid meeting me in the hall before class. Then he started grading papers in the library instead of the classroom, adding salt to the wound. I found him at a table in the back corner of the ancient library that morning. He sighed in annoyance when I sat down next to him and dropped my books on the table.
“Good morning, Father Garrett. I need to speak with you,” I whispered while keeping my eyes on my books.
“Can this wait?” he asked, trying to deflect as he continued grading papers.
“No, it can’t,” I hissed and snatched the pen out of his hand.
I looked at him angrily after that. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his face like he was exhausted. It almost made me feel bad for him.
“You have my attention,” he whispered.
He glanced around the room, making sure no one was close enough to listen.
“Why have you been avoiding me like I’m a pariah? I thought we were friends,” I stammered, fighting back the pent-up hurt from two and a half weeks of being ignored.
“I am so sorry, Zoe,” he breathed, shaking his head.
“Why?”
“It’s not you. I just.. can’t be best friends with a female student. It looks bad.”
“Says who?”
“Zoe, please, cut me some slack.”
He finally looked at me after two and a half weeks of avoidance. His big blue eyes were full of hurt. It instantly cooled my rage.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“Not really.”