Read Boystown 7: Bloodlines for Free Online Page B

constellations and star maps, of unknown geographies I wanted to explore.
    “How did you find me?” I asked.
    “You gave me your card.”
    “Oh. Okay. Why are you here?”
    “It’s lunchtime.” He blushed and I watched the redness spread across his cheeks, and neck, and chest.
    “You came by to have lunch with me? You know my phone number is on that card, too.”
    “I was afraid you’d say no.” He was a smart guy, I probably would have. I liked him. I just didn’t like complicated. And what could be more complicated than a priest?
    “All right. So let’s have lunch.”
    I stood up, grabbed my cigarettes, pulled my overcoat off the back of my chair and slipped it on. I took the few steps to the door, but he was blocking the way. I was a few inches away from him, close enough to smell the lavender soap he’d showered with, when he said, “There’s something I should tell you.”
    “What is that?”
    “I’ve left the church. Or rather, I’m leaving the church. They’ve asked that I consider my decision for six months, that I pray—”
    I leaned forward and kissed him gently, carefully, as though he were a wild animal who might bolt at any sudden movement. And then, after a long moment, he did bolt. He rested a hand on my chest and eased me back. “That isn’t why I came.”
    “Isn’t it?”
    “Maybe it is. I don’t know. I hoped we’d talk.”
    “You don’t have to leave the priesthood to talk to me, you know.”
    “I know that. Maybe I don’t mean only talk. But you need to be careful with me. Slow.”
    I had no idea if I could do that, no idea if I even wanted to.  

Chapter Four

    A cold drizzle fell as we walked down Clark to El Jardin, and I squeezed under an umbrella with Joseph. There were closer places to eat, but, regardless of how this conversation went, I felt like I was going to need a drink and a frozen margarita sounded appealing. A sudden burst of white adobe announced that El Jardin occupied the first floor of a three-story brick building. A large patio— jardin is probably garden in Spanish after all—ran along the side of the building. It was empty and wet.
    Inside, Joseph and I were situated at a small table against the wall. Without asking if he wanted one, I ordered us two frozen margaritas with salt. A busboy brought a plastic bowl of chips and I nibbled while I stared at Joseph. He hadn’t said much of anything on the walk down. Other than asking me how I was, to which I was able to honestly reply, “Good. Very good.”
    “I feel like I have something to do with your decision,” I said when the margaritas arrived. “Or am I flattering myself.”
    “When you and I broke into the rectory. I realized afterward that I probably wanted to get caught. I wanted to be kicked out.”
    “So, I don’t have much to do with it?”
    He smiled. “You do, I suppose. You’re a very tempting guy.”
    “I don’t feel like a tempting guy,” I said, because I didn’t. I knew guys liked me but I wasn’t always sure why. Lately, I was thin and disheveled, with dark brown hair that needed trimming, an unremarkable face that needed shaving, and hazel-colored eyes that could use a good dose of Visine.  
    “That’s probably part of your appeal. You have the confidence to just be you.” A twinkle lit up his face. “Or maybe it’s that you look like you rolled about of bed and might roll back in at any moment.”
    He was being more flirtatious than I wanted him to be at the beginning of the meal. If he kept it up, I’d be grabbing him and pulling him to the ground, which would get us thrown out of the restaurant and possibly into jail. I changed the subject. “Did you like being a priest?”
    “Most of the time, yes. A lot, actually.”
    “Have you considered becoming Episcopalian? I hear it’s almost the same thing.”
    “I think my central problem is a problem wherever I go.”
    Off the top of my head, I couldn’t think of any churches that equated sucking cock with