Sammy sheds a tear on our usual table at Spokes Cafe. She wipes at it in vain, as another one follows. "I don't know guys!" she says. "I thought I wouldn't miss him so much. But what I had with Calvin was really special. It feels like I can't live without him. Sorry to be so dramatic."

It all started when we entered Spokes Cafe, and the owner announced that he's closing down almost certainly in the next three months. It cast a rain cloud on our group, which led to our moods unraveling once we sat down.

Closest to Sammy, I reach out and try to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You definitely loved him. It hurts." I try to reach for more words, but they escape me.

"Just think about everything bad about him," Nolan suggests, trying to raise the mood with a bit of sarcasm.

"Nolan!" Cynthia scolds with a frown. Nolan effectively fully blushes in about half a second. "Sammy, we're here for you. I've been through a bad breakup too, though not as bad as yours. I think it's good to throw yourself into something new. Do good things, like sharing your faith with others."

"I think that'll be good for me," Sammy says with a forlorn expression.

Codi tries not to frown, but he most definitely fails. "Sorry to hear that, Sammy! I mean, I've never dated anyone, not even close to ever dating someone, actually. But if heartbreak is anything like how it is in the movies, then it's probably going to take some time."

"Right," I say. "But it's good you're still coming to these Bible studies. Being surrounded by other people is the best thing to do. And keep talking it out even when it feels like you might be repeating yourself."

Sammy gives me a little smile. "Thanks, guys. I mean, a part of me wants to fly all the way to Japan. But I know that if it's such an impulsive thing, the thought isn't from God. I just want to see Calvin one more time, but that one more time might turn into something crazy. Like promising him I'll move across the country for him."

After a minute or two more of commiserating, Sammy waves our concerns away, wiping at the corners of her tear-filled eyes. "Anyway! What about you guys? Sorry to steal half the Bible study, but I really want to know what this summer is bringing to you all."

In an act spanning all but half a second, the whole table looks at me. "Er!" I say instinctually, trying not to flail or spill my half-sweet mocha with soy milk. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Cynthia prods with her intelligent eyes.

"I—"

I planned on sharing more about Terry today. Honestly, I was going to just give them a briefing, not to talk too in-depth lest I go on and on about Terry's body through his flowing contemporary fits. But Sammy's honesty strikes me.

The reason we started this Bible study was to be honest, to share the deepest parts of myself. As the leader, I can't back down from sharing my struggles. Even though it scares me to put words to my innermost thoughts.

"There is something, I think," I start. "I mean I know. It all started... with a month ago. I'm sure you all remember Terry. He sat in our Bible study, after all."

"Of course!" Codi says excitedly. "He was the one who totally rocked it on the stage. He seems like a cool guy. I wonder what his diet and exercise routine is? Anyway, go on Martin."

I grip the side of the table as an anchor. "There is something that I haven't quite shared with you all. I guess I have mentioned it, but now it's getting all the more real." I gulp, and a part of me is worried that my throat will be stuck forever. "Um. Terry has been teaching me contemporary dance. You know that I've been really enjoying it. And well, one thing led to another, and now I can't stop thinking about him. I can't stop imagining what it would be like to... love him."

A disapproving line forms between Nolan's brows, but Cynthia speaks first. "Thanks for sharing, Martin. That takes a lot of honesty."

"I know the feeling," Sammy says with a forlorn smile. "You sound like I did when I first met Calvin. The sparks, the feeling like you just want to see them one more time, even though it was only fifteen minutes since you said goodbye."

I nod just as Nolan clears his throat. "Guys, are we forgetting something? Terry is a definite player, and he can hurt you, Martin. Not to mention, we are not an affirming church, so there is conflict there."

Codi raises a hand in a brave line above the table. "I have something to say. I've been having many discussions with the leaders, and some are open to listening to what the affirming party has to say. I'm still on the fence, but for what I can say now—you can share this with us, Martin. We got your back."

Sammy and Cynthia nod. Nolan holds his tongue, even though he will probably pull me aside later, possibly even intercept me on our way to Bible class.

"I'm sure you have more to say, Martin," Cynthia says while adjusting a sapphire earring.

"Yes," I say instinctively, even though I regret my mouth moving too fast. "Well, at first I told myself I needed to subdue. To really ask God to take away the feelings rising in me. It worked only for a while, but every time I see Terry, it's like I just want another moment. Another few minutes just talking with him.

"Does this mean I just need companionship? At the same time, I know that in some cases it's good to flee. But fleeing Terry? I can't imagine doing such a thing. Our dance practices are like a whole new world for me. And I don't want to give that up—I don't know if that's me being selfish.

"And yeah, my faith and the church is a definite concern. What if I'm doing the wrong thing? What if I'm going off the rails? My parents and the other leaders would be so disappointed. It would change things with them forever." I take a deep breath, almost gasping for air. "I know that I will have to make a sacrifice soon. It just will be so painful, no matter what direction I go."

My Bible study members share solemn nods, even Nolan—who seems to have calmed down from my confession. I clutch the hem of my shirt the whole time, balling it in my fist. Gone is the self-assured—yet still yapping—leader of the Bible study. Enter the insecure Martin, who has yet to set down the boundaries for himself in regard to relationships.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Nolan says. "Just be careful. And yeah, we can talk it out more."

"The advice you gave me applies too," Sammy says. "Just being here, around other Christians. I'm sure the answer is right in front of us."

We finish off the Bible study with the reading of the gospel of John. Just so happens, we read about the betrayal of Jesus. I gulp and try to read with a steady voice, but I can't help but wonder if I'm being a betrayer in this case, going against everything I've known as a believer. Am I still a beloved child? It certainly doesn't feel like that, even though in my mind I remind myself of the promises in the Bible.

That night, I pen a letter to Liss. Sure, I've hinted at these things for the past month, but I want to get it all out while it's still fresh in my mind. I want her to hear more about the case for our faith.

In the letter, I write about God's sovereignty. In the end, even though we don't see it, everything will turn out for good. We are so limited, and even though we think we might know better, we don't. There is suffering and pain in this world, but in the end, God will write the greatest story of love and grace. I have to believe that. And I know that this might be the difference that Liss needs. Sure, I'm no scholarly writer, but I pray that the Holy Spirit speaks through me, down to the last period.

With heavy-lidded eyes, I fall asleep the second I collapse on my mattress. Unholy of me, I think about Terry as my fading last thought. What would it be like... to love him?

*

I mail the letter to Liss the next morning. Yes, mail. We used to handwrite letters to each other all the time in middle school. It was like having a pen pal that you could meet in person the very next day. I guess that defeats the purpose of a pen pal... But still, it was the greatest feeling to release all my thoughts to hear. Then, she would never judge me even when bringing up the most embarrassing things about me—in private, of course.

At the dance studio, I watch the rain fall in waves. We have a freestyle day today, which means Terry is working on his own things. I work on the basic moves that he taught me. Then, I try to compose some unique moves to a gospel song. Nothing comes out right. Perhaps it's because there are almost a half dozen dancers in here, all speeding through their routines like medalists at the Olympics.

On the other hand... maybe I just need a bit more work. Sure, I let myself go in the parking lot, but that was a one-time thing. How do I transfer that into every single movement of mine? How do I truly become a great dancer?

I guess I have the answer, actually. Watching Terry dance gives me confidence. It encourages me and tells me that I found the right teacher.

"Hey?" Terry says.

I shake my head like Scooby Doo. "Huh?"

I swivel around. In the moment that I decided to stop watching, Terry gracefully transported himself several feet behind me. "We've been dancing for a long time. You should go home, get some rest. Don't you have class tomorrow?"

"Yes..." I say. "But! I really wanted to get this move right. I mean, I've been trying to do a turn without leaning to the right or left for ages."

"One thing about dance," Terry says with a spreading grin. "You're going to be frustrated when you can't get something right. But you always have tomorrow. So no worries. Well, unless you're in a reality show dance competition or something."

I smile and agree like some doting kitten that was offered a piece of tuna. Almost hand in hand—separated only by an inch or two—we waltz out of the studio.

My mood balloons so high that I don't notice the puddle in front of me until my foot lands right in the middle. It goes deeper than I could've imagined, because I flip backward, and I take Terry with me.

It's not like I grab him like some sort of streetlamp or something. Well, okay maybe I do. But not on purpose!

Terry shouts and careens backward too. Blessedly, due to his dancer's body, he manages to right us enough that we land on our sides instead—wouldn't want our skulls cracking in the middle of the day.

I splash around in the puddle, blinking rapidly against the muddy water on my face. "I'm so sorry!" I say. I splash around more. "I know we were going straight to the car. But maybe we should've used an umbrella? Maybe I should've actually brought one for once."

A bright tinkling sound escapes from Terry's throat. "Don't worry." He stands up in a second, offering me his hand.

It takes me a second to realize that he wants to help me up rather than expect me to propose to him. Or that he's proposing to me. "Um!"

"Take my hand, Martin," he says. "Unless you actually want to turn into a fish in this weather."

I try to grin, even though I still feel horribly bad for bringing him close to death, before he even fulfilled any of his grand dancer dreams.

"Sorry..." I say.

He shakes his head. "Let's go inside. We have towels and the like."

The term towels and the like doesn't bring to mind anything strange to me. But I should've known better. Twenty seconds later, I find myself in the men's locker room of the dance studio.

It's a modest space, with clean floors and cream walls, and enough lockers to fit at least a dozen people. There is also a shower. A private one, but one shower.

"I'll wait," I say quickly, parking my butt on the bench without care that my shorts and shirt slosh against the plastic.

"Don't even think about it," Terry says. "You'll catch a cold."

I glare straight ahead at a singular locker. "Sure, but that's my choice."

"What are you even on about?" Terry says. He grabs my shoulder and basically drags me with him.

Although I know I could put up a fight, a sinful part of me says just to go with the flow. It's not like Terry asked me to go to a love hotel. This is something that guys do all the time. Right?

In school, I avoided the locker rooms like the plague, even after a sweaty PE class. I would rather die in my stink than share showers with a bunch of guys who would probably see the obvious weirdness in me, no matter how hard I tried to disguise it.

Terry peels off his shirt, revealing toned muscles and barely-there abs. He turns on the water and lets it heat up before taking off his pants.

Sure, he leaves his underwear on, more for my sake than for his. But I'm already lost in my mind.

I turn around to leave again.

Terry pulls me by the sleeve of my soaked gray t-shirt. "I'm not going to push you, but seriously. I don't want you to catch a cold. Leave whatever you need on."

I decide to peel off my shirt, basking in the sweet words of Terry while leaving my pants and underwear on. Thanks to the epic heat of the shower, the chill in my bones leaves me almost immediately.

Terry begins to sing. Something about a cow jumping over a heart-shaped moon. The lyrics are so ridiculous that I begin to giggle. Then, I join in as he repeats the chorus for the third time.

The studio is kind enough to provide shampoo, body wash, and even conditioner. I breathe in the scent of coconut and lilies as we wash off the sweat and the mud of the day. It feels quite nice.

Over time though, I do notice Terry through the pressurized spray of water droplets. He's impossible to ignore, even with floppy hair and his underwear looking more like an inflatable tube than an article of clothing.

I gulp. How do I escape this moment of torturous bliss? 

Hey! Things are literally heating up in chapter 8! How do you feel about it? 

Do you have anything exciting planned for the next few weeks? What are you currently reading?