The weirdest thing about having mum and dad in on the secret was how open Jay and I could be around the house. Rather than being restricted to a few cautious caresses and the occasional sneaky kiss now and then, Jay and I could actually hold hands around the house. Well, we tried to tone down the lovey-dovey shit when my dad was around –he was still a touch uncomfortable with the idea of me being gay, never mind Jay being my boyfriend– but it still felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my chest, like I was breathing properly for the first time.
And in a way, I guess I was.
"Ash, can you please stick a pot of tea on?" mum asked with a taught polite smile. To her credit, she was genuinely trying... it was just still a little awkward. In general, she was coping pretty well, especially considering that she'd not only found out that her son was gay, but had the double whammy of having a gay kid and a gay Godson.
"Sure," I mumbled, dragging myself up from the warm sofa with tremendous effort. Jay let out a small whine of protest as I untangled myself from his limbs, sparking a small flicker of happiness in my chest. "Come on Jay... you can carry the cups or whatever..."
"Ok," he yawned, stretching his arms into a bizarre uncomfortable looking shape. It was ridiculous, but I felt incredibly sappy and squishy as Jay trailed into the kitchen behind me, warm palm in mine. Just as I skirted around the closing door, I caught a hint of a smile present on mum's face.
"This is fucking weird," I mumbled, taking some still warm cups from the dishwasher and shaking the last few beads of water from the rims. Jay, used to my bizarre comments by now, simply laughed.
"Yeah. A bit," he agreed, slinging one wiry arm around my waist. "I could get used to it though," he added, his voice a whisper. And I suddenly felt a flicker of guilt.
"Yeah..." I whispered, nervously running my tongue over my bottom lip. We'd already told Lee and Lewis, my parents and Linda... Really, who else's opinion mattered?
"Listen Jay," I started, but a gentle finger on my lips cut me off.
"Hey, don't worry about it. I've, um... I've got you, so I'm sorted." He managed a small smile and a thin laugh. "Daft, huh?"
"Very," I informed him forlornly. "Disgustingly mushy. Ever so gay."
"Takes one to know one," he smirked, the smug smile unfamiliar on his kindly face. Despite myself, I snickered.
"I'm a bad influence on you! You're not meant to be sarcastic!"
Chuckling softly, Jay leant his chin on my shoulder, his sharp jawline jagging into my shoulder. I squirmed uncomfortably for a second, but eventually relaxed and let out a deep sigh. From it's haughty position on the counter, the kettle began shrieking, the shrill noise commanding us to pour the liquid.
Jay and I exchanged a startled glance for a few seconds, before both breaking out into wide twin smiles.
"Go for it," he offered, waving his hand at the deliciously tempting teapot. I flashed him a grin.
"Damn straight." And I tipped the sizzling kettle bottom up, the sizzling liquid gushing from the tip in a miniature waterfall. I watched it hungrily, my eyes lighting up as the mesh teabags sank lower and lower into the water. Jay and I filled the air with idle chatter as we waiting for the flavour to really seep into the liquid. At last, Jay fished the sodden teabags from the cups and I eagerly added some microwaved milk. Jay rolled his eyes.
"Um, do you ever think your obsession with tea is unhealthy?" he asked tentatively. I shook my head, resolute that no bad could ever come from such a wonderful drink.
"Nope," I responded, tongue in cheek. "What about you and your obsession with football and shit anyway? You get so worked up when Celtic are playing!"
"How is football unhealthy?" he challenged, folding his arms across his rumpled shirt – we still hadn't bothered to change out of our school uniform. Hey, it was a Thursday night, we were piled high with homework form all three sciences plus I had a history essay to write, and we were tired... Besides, the clothes only had to last us another day before we could discard them with relief into the washing basket.
Or, in my case, the floor and hope that they magically appeared washed, ironed and folded in time for school the next Monday. Nine out of ten times, this strategy worked.
I bounded into the room with all the excitement of a five year old. Jay followed closely behind, timidly balancing two slightly overflowing cups with excruciating caution.
"Eh, did you fill these up enough?" He laughed, then immediately stopped as a few dribbles of scorching hot tea spilled over onto his fingers. Pursing my lips, I surveyed the cups with a mock seriousness.
"I may have overdone it a little bit," I admitted frankly, sitting myself down on the empty sofa just to the right of the armchair my mum currently occupied and directly opposite the flickering telly. Still laughing, he handed my mum a cup and she gave him a quiet thanks as he placed his own cup on the coffee table and relaxed into the sofa.
"I'm not a cushion, you know," I pointed out, slightly offended as he curled up on the couch, his head lolling onto my shoulder. I only got a silent, mischievous beam in response.
"I'm not!"
"I know."
I paused, trying to think of a witty putdown. "Shut up."
"Ok."
From my comfortable position on the couch, just through my lashes I could make out the image of my mum's face.
And a soft smile was proudly displayed on her features.
The next morning passed by in a blur; get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, finish last minute homework in the library and so on. It wasn't until third period –the dreaded RE– that the drama really started.
As usual, Jay shuffled quietly to the back of the classroom trying to keep off the radar so that his increasing atheism didn't become a public matter. And, as usual, I sauntered in with my nose in the air, openly regarding the class as a waste of time and energy.
Lee and Lewis came in together, giggling and blushing and occasionally stealing small wistful glances at each other. I wished Lee would just man up and plant one on Lewis already – I still had a tenner riding on her confidence. And currently, I was distinctly lacking such a tenner to bet with...
Amy and the other girl –who turned out to go by the name of Jessica– awkwardly slid into their seats with a polite nod. They'd been uneasy around the four of us ever since my little outburst. Lewis and I, ever the ones to hold a grudge, didn't even acknowledge their humble presence, while Lee managed a stiff nod and Jay a faint blush. A ridiculous urge to glomp him and never let go suddenly overcame me and I shook my head. It was getting pathetic how mushy I was becoming.
"Ok folks," the teacher piped up, spinning in her wheeled chair to face the class, an expectant grin on her face. "Continuing with our 'Relationships with God' block, we're going tostart looking at the sacraments."
I let out a muffled groan. A gentle nudge in the knee from Jay under the table confirmed that he felt exactly the same way.
"First up," the teacher droned. "Baptism. Everyone knows what baptism is, right?"
A few dull nods and a single "Yes Miss," sufficed for the whole class. Of course we did – they shoved this religion down our throats every day.
I zoned out as the teacher then went on to list the other holy sacraments; reconciliation, conformation, communion, marriage, Holy Orders, and Anointing of the Sick. I'd made them all up to communion, my ever-so-creative conformation name being John.
"Miss Pearson?" a flaxen haired boy from the front row asked, his whiney voice grazing. She blinked a few times, still on a roll with her 'Holy Catholic Love' speech.
"Yes dear?"
"Can I open the windows? It's roasting in here!"
Now that the boy mentioned it, I suddenly became aware of how my palms were warm and coated with sweat, and how my loose collar was way too tight for me to breathe properly. It was hot.
Or maybe it was because Jay's hand had sneakily crept under the table and started gliding up and down my shivering arm.
"Yes pet, on you go," Miss Pearson mumbled, not really paying much attention to his request. "Now, as I was saying, all of you guys have made five of the sacraments. And they are... Jay?"
Jay's fingers suddenly clenched around my arm and it took all I had not to let the pain show on my face. I simply kept my jaw locked in a tight smile as Jay struggled to find the right words.
"Um, baptism, first confession, conformation and communion," he stuttered, discomfort strongly visible on his face. I felt a scowl slip onto mine and lightly ran my fingertips over his in reassurance, earning a sneaky smile.
"Correct," Miss Pearson smiled. "And the next sacrament you make will be...?"
She looked at me expectantly, but my throat was inexplicably dry. I tried to force the words out, but I couldn't. I knew the correct answer, the expected answer, but I just couldn't form any comprehensible thought. Lee was frantically mouthing the answer at me, but I wasn't paying her any attention. All I could think about was how I was never going to make the next sacrament on the list, whether I wanted to or not.
"Marriage," I whispered eventually, my eyes watering embarrassingly. I wouldn't get married. Couldn't get married, even if I wanted to.
Jay and I were both guys. And British law wouldn't allow two men or two women to be joined in marriage. And that was that.
So why did I feel so upset about it?
"Precisely," Miss Pearson nodded. "Well, that is assuming that none of you grow up to be priests, nuns or –God forbid– so sick that you have to be anointed." She chuckled weakly, while I glared daggers at her from behind the comfort of my shaggy fringe. How could she laugh at something as bloody insensitive as that, especially with Jay in the bloody room!?
Yet she continued on in this vein as though she had done nothing offensive at all. Which only made me narrow my eyes even more.
"Insensitive prick," I hissed under my breath, not really bothered if anyone could hear me. Apparently, Jay, Lee and Lewis were still within earshot as they each gave me a smile and a light giggle.
"Marriage," she explained, "is one of the most important events in a person's life. It's a faithful, exclusive, lifelong union of a man and a woman. Committing themselves completely to each other, a Catholic husband and wife strive to sanctify each other, bring children into the world, and educate them in the Catholic way of life. Man and woman, although created differently from each other, complement each other. This complementarity draws them together in a mutually loving union. And this is why," she added, "that the Catholic Church will never condone marriage between a man and a man, or a woman and a woman."
And although I knew it was coming, a fiery eruption of anger exploded in my chest. Lee's concerned gaze immediately swivelled to Jay and I, but once again I didn't spare her a second glance. I was too busy clinging onto the edge of my chair with white knuckles, trying to steady my breathing.
But then something totally unexpected happened.
Lewis, the ex-star footballer Lewis, shot his hand in the air. Bemused (Lewis rarely contributed to discussions in RE) the teacher raised an eyebrow.
"Yes Lewis?"
"Surely if you're applying that argument about how marriage is only for folk to have kids, then the priests shouldn't be marrying infertile people either, right?"
My jaw dropped open. And I'm pretty sure plenty of other folk's did as well.
"What exactly are you asking?" Miss Pearson enquired cautiously, anxiously pushing her wire frame glasses an inch or so further up her long nose. Lee rolled her eyes.
"He's saying that if the Catholic Church's only problem with gay marriage is the fact that gays can't procreate, then how come straight people who have absolutely no intention of having kids can get married?"
Miss Pearson's thin face drained of all colour beneath a flaky coating of husky brown fake tan. It was immensely satisfying to watch her squirm under the apprehensive gazes of thirty shocked students.
Well, twenty-eight really. Lee and Lewis had adopted a pair of smug leers rather than the dazed expression the rest of the class seemed to be wearing.
"Anybody who enters a marriage without the intention of procreation is wrong in the eyes of God," she murmured, beads of crystal sweat visible on her hairline. "Besides, there are other options for gays and lesbians – Civil Partnerships for example."
Then something even more insane happened. A pleasantly plump girl from the front row raised her hand, her eyes determined.
"It's not the same though, is it?" she quipped, not waiting for the teacher's approval. "Civil Partnerships are often viewed as a second class to marriage, and people in a Civil Partnership can't adopt as a couple."
"That's sick," somebody else shouted from the other side of the classroom. "Gay people can't be parents. That's just wrong!"
"And who decided that?" Lewis fumed, his eyes ablaze with anger. "My biological parents are irresponsible arseholes! I'm so bloody grateful to be fostered by any couple, straight, gay or otherwise!"
There was a collective gasp throughout the room. "Lewis is fostered?" "Lewis has gay parents?" "Is he gay?"
But all I felt was an overwhelming surge of gratitude to the boy who had jumped in to defend me without the slightest regard for himself.
"This ain't about kids, this is about marriage," a boy from the left side of the room pointed out. "And gay marriage completely undermines all the traditional values of the union!"
"And divorce doesn't do that already?" another boy chipped in. The debate was becoming increasingly more heated now, every head pivoting from speaker to speaker with a rapt fascination, clinging on to every word, every addition of fuel to the fire. "The option of divorce completely undermines the whole idea of marriage in the first place. How will the two blokes down the road undermine your marriage? That is," he added, tone dripping with disdain, "if you ever get some."
The homophobic boy stood up, his chair screeching across the floor sending shivers down my spine. "It's bloody sick, that's how!"
"What's 'bloody sick'," Jay stammered shakily, his normally faint voice now carrying a strong element of authority, "is the disgustingly judgemental people nowadays. I thought the bible was meant to spread love, not crush it."
This shocking remark of course sparked a huge shouting match between the two sides, each group ferociously defending their cause.
"It's wrong!"
"You're wrong!"
"Being gay is a sin!"
"If it was that important, how come it's not in the Ten Commandments!?"
"Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination."
"Love thy neighbour!"
But in between the shouting, the shrieking, and the yelling, I only had eyes for one person.
Jay.
"We can't get married," I whispered, not entirely sure if he could hear me through the intense rabble. Miss Pearson had long since surrendered control of the classroom, and was now cowering in the corner with a manic expression of panic and fear as the argument got more and more heated.
"Um, oddly, I'm aware," he replied, a hint of amusement sparkling in his green eyes. I bit my lip to stop a small laugh from escaping.
"You don't care?"
"Not in the slightest," he assured me, gripping my hand tightly under the wooden desks. "I really don't mind. Besides, um, we can always get a Civil Partnership or something...?"
He trailed off nervously, his eyes hesitant and leaving traces of a question in the air. Suddenly, all previous negative connotations to do with marriage evaporated and I gave him a wide, genuine smile.
"Yeah. I'd, uh... That'd be pretty cool."
I fought the urge to smack my head off the desk. I sounded so fucking lame.
"Ok! Enough is enough!" Miss Pearson bellowed. "I have never, in all my years of teaching taught a class more disrespectful! You're all lucky I've not called up SMT right this minute!"
The whole class abruptly snapped their mouths shut. Miss Pearson stood at the front of the room, just shaking with pure anger and terror when a short brunette training secretary popped her head around the door.
"Er, hello? Can Ash and Jay Jamieson please come down to the office just now?"
I smiled bitterly at the cruel twist of fate. Jay Jamieson... It had a nice ring to it. Evidently, Jay shared my thoughts as he smiled as he packed up and didn't bother to correct the nervous woman.
"Yes! Take them!" Miss Pearson snapped, still shaken up from the whole experience. "Take them all!"
"Um, that won't be necessary." She laughed nervously and smoothed her hair with a shaking hand. "I only need the two boys."
I packed up hastily, meeting Lee and Lewis's questioning gaze with one of helpless confusion. Jay and I followed the unfamiliar woman out the classroom and down the stairs until we reached to office.
"Your mum is here to collect you both," Mrs Healy told me quietly. "It's Jay's mum. Apparently, she took another stroke and she's now on life support. I'm so, so sorry."
My gut dropped to my knees. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed Jay's hand tightly, not caring that my guidance teacher was watching us with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity. At that very moment, all I cared about was Jay.
"Oh my God," he whispered, his voice mere hoarse whisper. "She's... she's going to die."