10. Celine
Celine
I hear a light knock on the door, and for a moment, I forget where I am. I groan, and with a raspy, groggy voice, I call out, “Go away. I’m sleeping.”
Sister Alice’s voice responds, “Celine, it is time for your visit with your parents.”
It only takes a few seconds for her words to sink in, bringing me back to reality, and jerking me out of bed.
“I—uh—just one second!” I holler, frantically getting dressed.
I begin apologizing profusely as she waits patiently behind the door. I pull my hair into a low, slicked-back bun. Well, as slick as I can manage with the brush they provided me.
As I follow behind Sister Alice, I try talking myself out of blowing up at my parents. There are so many things I want to say. But I know throwing a tantrum won’t get me out of here any faster. I have to behave.
And even though I absolutely hate this idea and would much rather yell at them for everything they’ve put me through, I can’t. My parents are my only ticket out.
There is an office in the main hallway that the convent uses for meetings, which is where Sister Alice brings me. When we arrive at the office, I am surprised to find an empty room. She gestures for me to take a seat in one of the chairs.
When I sit, I turn around to find that she has already me alone. I sit in silence, anxiously waiting for my parents to get here.
This may be the only time I’ve been the first one to show up at a meeting with them. I never thought I’d see the day that I’d be the one waiting for them to arrive. Which I am not a big fan of so far, considering the silence is causing my mind to fill with intrusive thoughts again.
Footsteps sound in the hall, soft voices greet each other, and they carry on with the small chitchat as they approach the room. I inhale a deep breath, clearing my mind of all the anger and erasing the attitude from my face.
My mother walks into the room. Just my mother. I guess I’m not surprised my father isn’t here, given his work schedule, but that doesn’t stop the words from rolling off my tongue.
“Dad didn’t want to take the time off to see me?”
“He’s a busy man, Celine.” She huffs, setting her purse on the desk, and takes a seat. “How are you?”
I hold back the annoyed laugh that wants to escape me because she never asks how I’m doing. But seeing as this is something that she forced me into, something that is in her own interest, I guess she cares now.
“Fine,” I respond nonchalantly.
“Fine? That’s all I get?”
“What do you want me to say? Thank you, and that God is my best friend now?” My breathing has become heavier, and I try my best to regulate it.
It seems that I am not listening to the little pep talk I gave myself this morning.
I need to tone it down. With a soft, controlled exhale, I keep my voice calm when I say, “I’ve only been here for four days. I’m doing fine.”
“Hmm,” she hums in disapproval. “I see the attitude is still there.”
I clench my teeth together. Breathe, Celine. “As I said, it’s only been four days.”
“How are the courses you are taking?”
“Riveting.” I deadpan.
“Celine, you need to take this seriously!”
“I’m trying.”
“Well, maybe next week you’ll have a change in perspective and attitude.” She pushes the chair back and stands up, grabbing her purse.
“You’re leaving?” I don’t know why it pisses me off that she’s only staying for a few minutes. I didn’t even want her to come in the first place. Maybe I’m mad because I wanted to be the one to cut this visit short.
“I have things to do, Celine. I’ll be back the same time next week.”
She’s out of the door before I can say a word. Slumping back into my seat, I rub my eyes hard with the tips of my fingers. A headache is forming, and the sudden knock on the door doesn’t help.
“Are you ready?” Sister Alice’s voice makes me stop massaging my eyes.
“Yeah.” I stand from the seat and follow her to the classroom.
I spaced out the entire lesson. Are we surprised? Esther told me to sit next to her, which earned a weary eye from Joanna. I think she wanted me to sit behind her, just as I do in the other classes.
As I dissociate from the lesson, I watch Esther draw in her notebook. She’s very talented, though the images she draws would probably call for an exorcist if anyone saw them. But I think they are intriguing.
The one she is working on now depicts a woman weeping blood.
I only know this because she used a red pen to color in the tears.
The woman’s mouth is open, screaming in agony from whatever pain she is enduring.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by me that the woman she is sketching has the same color and length of hair as her own.
The entire time, I discreetly watch as she adds more details to the page. Thankfully, the lesson ends a bit earlier, and Esther shuts her notebook as the others stand to leave.
Joanna stands there, giving me a warm smile, then glances over at Esther and gives her a death glare. None of us exchanges words, and then Joanna walks out of the room, with Bekah following close behind.
My eyes find Esther, who is sitting there with a smirk.
“What?”
“Your BFF seems mad that you didn’t sit by her.” She giggles.
“She’ll get over it.” I roll my eyes. “Want to get something to eat?”
“Sure,” she says.
“You’re a great artist,” I praise her drawings as we walk into the hall.
“Thanks.” Her cheeks have grown pink. “I never let anyone see the things my mind creates because they are strange and probably would have me admitted to a psych hospital.”
I let out a small laugh. “Probably, but they are cool and different. Most artists stick to creating what everyone else wants to see. You create what you want, and I think that’s what makes a real artist.”
Her lips twist as she fights a smile, but she doesn’t say anything else as we walk into the dining hall. There is a small line to get food, and my eyes find Joanna and Bekah already sitting at the table.
“How mad would she be if we sat somewhere else?” I gesture towards Joanna.
“She’d probably make it rain hellfire,” Esther jokes.
“And if we skipped lunch altogether?” I ask, glancing at Esther.
Right on cue, her stomach growls. “As much as I would like to, because I don’t want to deal with her, if I don’t feed myself, I’ll regret it.”
We get in line for our food, and I stay quiet as I replay the visit with my mother and plan how I’ll need to behave at the next one.
I don’t know what to do with my free time in this place, so I wandered around the halls. I found myself in places where I might not be welcome, but no one saw me because everyone was too busy doing their own thing.
Once I got bored and felt another headache starting to form, I found the way back to my room to lie down. After having lunch with Esther, wandering the church, and returning to my room, the sun has now set.
I’m not sure how long I dozed off for, but I didn’t make it down in time for dinner, which means Sister Alice came looking for me. Since my headache is still in full force, I asked if I can eat in my room. She doesn’t give me any trouble with my request and agrees.
I eat what she brought and decide to settle in for the night.
Changing out of my dress and bra, I slip on the white nightgown and make my way to the communal bathroom.
I’ve been trying to go whenever the others are at dinner or sleeping, because I don’t want to run into any of them and be forced to socialize.
After brushing my teeth and hair, I shut myself in my room and go to the window. The only good thing about this place is the courtyard, and I have a nice view from my room. Esther might be another good thing, given that she hates being here as much as I do.
Speaking of, I see Esther walking in the courtyard. Even though it is dark, the moon shines enough light for me to know it’s her. She looks around, making sure no one is watching, and then I see a small flame ignite. She holds it up to her mouth, something burning red in her hands.
A cigarette.
I get the confirmation when I see the puff of smoke float into the air. How the hell did she smuggle in cigarettes? I watch her take another hit when a motion catches my attention as a figure walks into the courtyard. They step more into the light of the moon, and I realize it’s Father Alexander.
Esther notices him shortly after I do, and when she spins around, she hides the cigarette behind her back. He says something, and she shakes her head, but then he holds out his hand. I see her shoulders drop in defeat, and she hands over the lit cigarette.
Esther turns to leave, but pauses when he says something else. She slowly turns back around and hands him what appears to be the lighter she was using.
My eyes follow her as she leaves the courtyard, and once I can no longer see her, I pivot my attention back toward where she just left. Father Alexander stays behind, not following her back into the convent. He watches her to make sure she actually goes back inside like she’s supposed to.
He combs a hand through his hair before glancing around. When he doesn’t see anyone, he tucks himself into a spot behind a tree and ignites the flame from the lighter he confiscated from her.
A smirk forms at my lips, and before I know it, I’m leaving my bedroom and walking through the hall quietly. Down the stairs and around the corner, I enter the courtyard and sneak up on him.
He’s exhaling some smoke when I say, “Never in my life have I seen a priest smoke.”
His fearful eyes find mine, and he quickly moves his hand behind his back to hide the cigarette. “What are you doing out here? It’s past curfew.”
“My room is right there.” I point to the window. “I was watching you bust Esther for breaking the rules again.”
His eyes leave mine to look up at the window. “So you decided to break the rules as well?”
I shrug, “I was hoping I could have taken a hit of that.”
“You’re not allowed to smoke.”
“And I bet you aren’t allowed to either.” I grin with my hands on my hips.
Father Alexander’s eyes lower to the nightgown I’m wearing, his stare lingering on my breast for a split second.
He clears his throat, diverting his gaze to the doorway to our right. “You should go back to your room.”
“Why? It’s a beautiful night. Some fresh air will do good to clear my mind.”
“You could have opened your window to get fresh air,” he suggests.
“It doesn’t open.”
“It doesn’t?”
I shake my head. “I’ve tried, but it’s stuck or something.”
He glances up at my window. “We can get it fixed for you.”
“So that I don’t come out here and break curfew again?” I tease.
Father Alexander’s eyes meet mine. “That way you don’t feel trapped in your room.”
“Yeah, because being trapped in the convent is torture enough,” I mutter.
He stares at me for a moment before asking, “Is there something you’d like to talk about, Celine?”
“What do you mean?”
“Usually, I listen to all of the struggles and confessions from the women here. If there is something you need to get off your chest, you would come to me.”
“You want me to make a confession?”
“Only if you have one you need to make.” He tucks his free hand into the pockets of his black slacks. “If you do, we can set up a time for you to come to the confessional booth.”
“Okay,” I agree, even if I don’t know what I’ll confess yet.
A breeze blows through the courtyard, making the trees rustle and pulling my attention away from him. I get a sudden shiver, and I can feel my nipples harden.
When my head turns back to meet Father Alexander’s eyes, they aren’t where they are supposed to be. He still notices when my attention is back on him, but his eyes don’t move to look at mine. Instead, he whips his head to the side, his body becoming tense.
“Go back to your room, Celine,” he orders again.
His head may be turned away from me, but I can still see the uncomfortable look on his face and the way his jaw tenses as he fights whatever battle is going on inside his head.
Even though he isn’t looking my way, I offer him a soft smile. “Goodnight, Father Alexander.”
He doesn’t acknowledge what I say; he doesn’t even reply. Which only verifies what I thought; he stared at my breasts, not once, but twice. And not on accident either.
From what I understand, it’s considered a sin to feed into temptation, especially when you’re a priest.
As I spin around to walk away, another swift breeze passes by. The wind pulls at my nightgown, tightening the see-through material around my body. Growing curious, I glance over my shoulder.
And what do you know? His eyes are not turned away from me anymore.
He says he’s a priest, a man of God. A man who made a vow to resist temptation, but the way his eyes are wandering across my body right now, well, could’ve fooled me.
I take my focus off him and let him enjoy the view as I disappear into the hallway. A wide grin spreads across my face as I feel both flattered and amused by the amount of hypocrisy that took place tonight.
And under the Big Guy’s own roof.