Chapter Text
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” Brick said. He kept his gaze fixed on the metal grate separating him from his parish priest. “It has been two weeks since my last confession.”
“And what are your sins?” asked Father Joseph. His quiet voice eased Brick’s nerves, and he took a breath. It was time to unload everything that had happened during the past two weeks of filming Revenge of the Island.
“I was angry at a friend when I believed she’d stolen my belongings,” Brick began, “As it turned out, she was innocent, but I jumped to conclusions instead of hearing her out.
“I acted cowardly and disrespected my code by abandoning my teammates in a cave.
“Mmm,” Father Joseph hummed, in a way that suggested he had questions.
“It’s a long story,” Brick said. “Anyway, a former teammate of mine was mauled by a shark, and instead of pitying him, I felt… well, I didn’t feel happy, but he had done some terrible things to my friends. Instead of having compassion, I guess I was satisfied that he’d received his comeuppance.
“I got into somewhat of a scuffle during a game of capture the flag. Sure, part of the challenge was to capture the flag by any means necessary, but I don’t know if that particular fight would be sanctioned by just war theory.”
“You don’t need to apply just war theory to playground games,” Father Joseph reminded him.
“I know, I know.” Brick had been reminded of that several times throughout the years. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to confession.
He confessed a few other sins—snapping at his parents after he’d returned from the front lines (the island), saying the f-word by accident, things like that—but finally he’d run out of tiny trivial things to say. It was time to confess the big thing, the incident that he’d been turning over in his mind since it happened.
“And finally, two weeks ago I…” Get the words out, soldier. You are not a coward. Brick willed himself to continue: “I kissed a girl, and definitely not for the right reasons. She was teasing me and so I—I did it to prove something to her. We’re certainly not dating, and she certainly isn’t interested in me. I should have acted with more dignity.”
“I see,” Father Joseph said. His tone remained frustratingly neutral, like Switzerland.
“And the worst part is that I can’t stop thinking about her!” Brick continued. “She has so many terrible qualities and yet, against my better judgment, I’m in—I have a crush on her!”
The words sounded so juvenile within the solemn confessional. They hung in the air, and Brick wanted to wilt and die like a trampled dandelion.
After a few moments of silence, Father Joseph spoke. “I can see that this has been a particularly heavy weight on your soul. If I can ask one question: what happened between you two afterward?”
“Nothing, sir,” Brick said. “I attempted to keep opportunities for fraternizing to a minimum.” As much as he had wanted to spend every waking moment with Jo, his desire to keep out of a messy quasi-relationship had won out. During the competition, he had generally talked with her with a third party present (usually Lightning or Scott or Zoey). Later, at Playa des Losers, Anne Maria usually served as a buffer.
“And you only ever kissed?”
“Affirmative, sir.”
“Well,” Father Joseph said carefully, “I want to assure you that this is hardly the worst situation to find yourself in. Was it rash and reckless and potentially damaging? Perhaps. But God won’t fault you for a crush.”
“She’s not even Catholic,” Brick mumbled, resting his forehead against the grate.
“What attracts you to her? Have you reflected on that?”
Huh? Brick had expected to receive a drill-sergeant-esque lecture about promiscuity and the near occasion of sin. He had not expected to consider his emotions in an insightful, nuanced way.
“Well,” he said, drawing out the word as he chewed on his thoughts, “she is funny. Sure, her jokes are often mean-spirited and derogatory, but there’s a certain cleverness to them. I admire her wit.”
“Interesting. And what else?”
“She’s very capable,” Brick said. “She beats me in every footrace! It’s thrilling, trying to catch up to her. And she always does her best. She’s got grit, determination, and passion.”
“I see.”
“And she pushes me,” Brick continued. The words came freely; he was sharing thoughts he hadn’t even consciously considered before. “In both bad ways. She motivated me to run faster, try harder, to see if I could measure up to her skills. She even convinced me to abandon my code. That’s unprecedented!”
“It sounds to me,” Father Joseph said kindly, “that while this girl might be rough around the edges, she also has a lot of admirable qualities. Qualities that perhaps you’d like to encourage in yourself.”
Wait. Hold the phone. Brick scratched his head. “Are you saying… go for her?”
“What I’m saying is that there’s no need to squash all your feelings in a box and hide them away because you think they’re inappropriate. Your emotions are telling you something important, whether or not you end up with this girl.”
“But she’s… I don’t know.” Even if Father Joseph had told Brick to go sweep Jo off her feet… she didn’t like him like that. She’d teased him into kissing her, sure but that didn’t mean she’d say yes to a date. And weren’t guys supposed to be the ones in charge, anyway?
Brick had loads more questions, but now Father Joseph was saying, “Just don’t go mindlessly kissing her again. And invite her to youth group, if you’d like.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Brick saluted automatically, but the confessional was so tiny that he banged his elbow against the wall. “Ow!”
Clearly their conversation was over for now. Brick said his Act of Contrition, received absolution from his sins, and exited the confessional.
If only the church also had an outhouse confessional where he could ramble about Jo for another ten minutes.