The small confessional made me feel claustrophobic. I stared at the grain of the wood for a long time trying to organize my thoughts. I heard Father Andrew clear his throat from the other side. I let out a deep sigh.

"Venus," he said gently, "it's just me. We don't have to be in here if you don't want."

"No Father," I said, shaking my head. "I want to share this with God too. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

"Tell me what has happened, my child."

"It's... this new boy that keeps appearing, Mal." Father Andrew said nothing, but I could feel the tension growing in the cramped confessional. "Nothing sinful has actually happened between us, but the words he speaks to me and the thoughts he leaves me with are far from holy. I see him in my dreams lately, and he makes me question my following of the Bible."

"In what way?"

Mal's last words echoed in my head. "Father, you already know my greatest desire is to join the sisters and become part of the church's convent."

"I do."

"I want to help those in need. Offer love and forgiveness to those who have sinned and help them rediscover God's light," I paused, nervous about how he would react next, "but Mal said something to me today that I just can't forget about. He said how can you ever understand a sinner if you've never even sinned? I know that to sin is wrong and goes against our Lord and everything He teaches but doesn't it make some sense? Aren't those sisters with the questionable pasts the most successful at saving sinners? How could I ever relate to a sinner? How can I tempt an alcoholic away from the bottle when I know nothing of what's inside? How can I tell a thief his actions are wrong when I've never been in need or desired something out of reach? How can I convince the passionate teenagers their bodies are best saved for holy union when I know nothing of flesh and passion?"

"Venus-"

"I'm not saying I want to burn the bible and throw myself into sin," I said quickly. "Obviously, I don't intend to murder, steal, and sacrifice my chastity just to relate to others, but it does make me think about sin. To err is human, people come to confessions for the forgiveness of you and God. Is it so wrong to think that he might be right? That I'm somehow robbing myself of my full potential as His servant by never allowing myself to be... human?"

Father Andrew sat silently for a while. Though I knew he would honor his vows as a priest by forgiving and remaining silent to others, I worried about his true feelings.

"You really feel this way?" He finally asked.

"I do."

"Then as your priest, I say to trust in our Lord and the path which he guides you on. Say three prayers of contrition. One for impure thoughts, one for doubting Him, and an extra for your soul."

He started to close the divider.

"Father!" I said suddenly. He paused. "Is that all you have to say? What about everything I just told you?"

"As your priest, I have said all I can. If you want more advice, then speak to me as your father when you've finished praying." With that, he closed the divider and left the confessional.

I sat there for a while. I said my prayers, but also worried about what was to come. What would Father Andrew have to say about all this? Was I straying from the Lord's path?

I left the confessional. It always felt liberating to step from that cramped box into the huge chapel. The beauty of the church never ceased to amaze me, but today I found myself too nervous to really appreciate it. I left out the back door and stepped into the garden. I saw Father Andrew sitting by the fountain. I walked over slowly, nervous about what was to come. I stopped a few feet in front of him.

He looked up at me with tired eyes and smiled weakly. He patted the spot next to him and I sat down. We sat silently for a while, then he let out a sigh.

"That boy." He said, shaking his head. "Never once did I ever see you flustered or unable to control yourself. Never once did you ever question the teachings of our Lord. Never once did you ever feel out of touch with your fellow man or unable to sympathize with him. Then that boy comes along and in two days I've seen it all. Venus, what's happening to you?"

I looked at the ground. The truth was I had no idea what was happening to me either. He was right, I'd never had these problems before, but something about Mal brought to the surface all my imperfections and insecurities.

"Venus, I don't want to see you around that boy again."

"But, Father-"

He raised his hand to silence me. "There's something about him. I've always feared the day might come when some boy would try to steal you away, and I was prepared for that possibility, but something about him... I can't explain it, Venus, but something isn't right with him. More than making you question our Lord, I sense something evil in his intentions and I think it's better if you keep away from him."

I bit my lip and nodded. I knew he was right. Something in Mal did bring out the worst in me, but at the same time, I just couldn't see his intentions for me as evil. I thought of his playful smile, the gentleness of his voice, the way he always seemed to be careful about my feelings. I saw true remorse in his face when he mentioned me being an orphan, would an evil man feel remorse or regret over anything? Let alone a side comment? My thoughts were interrupted by Father Andrew grabbing my hand.

"As for your questions about sin. You know I have told you several times I think it might be good for you to go out and experience the world a little more. You have spent a life free of true sin because you've never really left this church. As a sister you wouldn't stay here, you would talk with the people, travel on missions, and experience new people, ideas, and sins you never imagined. I fear if you never experience the world outside the church, then jumping into it will terrify and overwhelm you.

I would like you to avoid murder, " he said with a smile, "but should you be out experiencing life and happen to succumb to sin, you know where my confessional is."

I smiled and nodded at him. He kissed my forehead.

"Why don't you rest before service today?" He said. "I'll come wake you later if you're not up."

I nodded again and went to my cottage. It really was too early in the morning for everything I had just gone through. Experience the world outside the church? Would it really be that difficult? Mal flashed through my mind. If he was an example of the outside world, then maybe I was unprepared. How would I even start though? I was friendly with others my age in church, but I wouldn't really call any of them friends. I never hung out, I never went to parties, I barely even ate out at restaurants. Where was I supposed to go to experience the "real world" exactly?

Mal filled my mind again. I bet he knew a lot of places to go. If he traveled for business I'm sure he went all around the world, or at least the country. I barely left Sacred Heart. He probably knew all about different cultures, where to go to have a good time, and if what he said about the women he knew was true-

I blushed deeply as I thought about what he said. I'm sure he's known more than one or two women in his time. And me? I never even kissed a boy. I knew the basics of how things should work, but sex education wasn't exactly the most discussed subject in Catholic school. It sounded like it was supposed to be painful, but if it was really so bad then why did every hormone-filled teenager seem to want it.

I remembered those couples in services. Stealing glances from across the pews, going to the "bathroom" just minutes apart, returning around the same time with faces lightly flushed and smiles that seemed to glow. I never thought much about it before, my heart and body belonged only to our Lord, but now I couldn't stop thinking about it. Was it really so wonderful? Was I missing something?

I thought about the fountain earlier. How Mal trapped me between his arms. Strange, terrifying, yet exciting somehow. I thought about his face so close to mine, the sound of his voice as he talked about corrupting me, the hungry look he had in his eyes. I blushed again and a strange warmth seemed to fill my stomach. I didn't like this feeling, but at the same time, I didn't not like it.

I shook my head violently. This was stupid, this was wrong, this was sinful. Besides, like Father Andrew said I wasn't going to see him anymore. He was dangerous. Maybe.

I sighed and threw myself onto the bed. My life was simple before he came along. I was comfortable. My path in life was laid out before me. How about making your own path? His words echoed in my head. What was my path? I always thought it was the church, only the church, but did I want more? Father Andrew had said many times he never expected me to become a nun, that I was free to live my life and love God in my own way. What was the life I wanted? Was this sudden doubt because I was missing something? If so, what was it?

Was it sin? Thinking of the word made me feel sick. Sins were wrong, always. Right? Father Andrew did say sin was a part of a normal life, that I was sheltered by the church, but surely people didn't go out intending to sin. Did they?

I thought of children I had seen at potlucks. The way they cried and cried saying they hated chicken, they didn't like carrots, they would never eat it. Then once they took a bite their plate was stacked with nothing but chicken and carrots. Was this me? Was I acting like that picky child? Would I indulge in a little sin and suddenly realize it wasn't as bad as I thought? But then the fear entered my mind of would I like it too much? Would I start to stack sins on my plate until there was no room left for God?

Father, I'm not a child. I said these words just yesterday. I was a woman, capable of controlling my own thoughts and actions. I could decide what I was and wasn't comfortable with, and I could decide when enough was enough and stop. This thought comforted me a little.

I did feel sleepy from the stress of my early morning and began to drift off. I thought of Mal again. I wondered if I really didn't want to see him anymore. I felt as if there was always something unfinished in our interactions. Besides, it felt wrong to cut off contact without at least telling him so. When I'd had enough of his attitude I would tell him. Although, part of me wondered, would it ever be enough?