Rory felt his cheeks glow as he entered the church. Conversations stalled, although people bent towards each other to whisper. He bit his lip. He was imagining things, right? They couldn't all know about his secret. Not yet. Quickly he headed to the stairs leading to the balcony. The place where the church youth used to sit. 

Two days had passed since he turned 18. Ever since, he felt like a stranger in his own home. He knew his mother found it hard to be in the same room with him and she had started to cry a few times now. He had laid a hand on her shoulder, telling her how sorry he was and how he wished things would have been different. She hadn't answered. She had only given him that heartbroken look. 

It felt like he was carrying stones on his back. Every time he looked into someone's eyes, the weight increased. With his eyes, he searched for Jonathan, his best friend. He was in the third row, his hand on Grace's knee. 

Rory sat down next to him. "Hey," he said softly, his voice shaking. 

Jonathan studied his face. The look in his eyes chased a shiver down Rory's spine. 

"Is it true?" his friend asked. 

Nervously, Rory intertwined his fingers. He bent his head, his shoulders slumping down. He didn't dare to answer. After his family's rejection, he had hoped that Jonathan would have his back. However, now he felt a distance between them that had never been there before. Out of the blue, while they hadn't even spoken to each other. 

"How did you know?" Rory asked quietly. 

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders. "Everyone talks about it."

Rory took a deep breath. "Nobody talks to me, but they all talk about me," he said bitterly. 

"But what's there to say to you, Rory? That God doesn't approve of it? You already know that, right?"

Rory flinched. In vain, he tried to blink the tears away. When he failed to do so, he got up and wormed his way through the pews towards the stairs. The organ playing started, drowning out the cracking of the stairs as Rory descended it. 

Tears were already rolling down his cheeks as he entered the hallway where the coats were hanging. He didn't feel welcome anymore. If everyone was disgusted with him, God would be disgusted with him too. He didn't want to incur the wrath of God. 

Wiping the tears from his cheeks, he headed outside. It drizzled. Part of him hoped Jonathan or one of his other friends would follow him, but he was all alone. Nobody cared about his feelings. 

Leaning with his hands on the ledge, he stared down in the grey ditch. The raindrops left small circles in the water. Would they hate him forever now? It felt like there was a monster inside him that was slowly eating him from the inside. It ached, it hurt, and he didn't know how to get rid of it. 

Would it be better if he was dead? Maybe he didn't deserve to live. All he did, was hurting the people he loved. Again and again, he saw his mother's tear-stained face, and his father's aversion seemed to follow him wherever he went. All of a sudden he was no longer their son, but a... He couldn't even think of the proper word. He felt like garbage. 

Again, tears streamed down his face. His shoulders were shaking as his fingers curled around the wood of the bridge. It started to rain harder. Was it true? Would they rather live on without him? Would they rather forget about his existence, would they rather remove him from their family? Brushing off the stain of their family tree? 

Suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder. He looked aside. Because of the tears, he couldn't see who it was. Before he had blinked away his tears, the other wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. Rory clung to the stranger. He had craved so much for two arms to hold him that his whole body was quivering. Soothingly, a hand rubbed his back. Rory closed his eyes. 

"Come, boy," a man's voice said after a while. "You'll get sick if you stay here. I live nearby. Let me get you a cup of tea, then you can tell me what makes you so sad."

Rory stepped back, wiping the tears from his eyes. A friendly face of an elderly man looked calmly at him. It was Mr. Somers. Grace's grandpa. The minister's son-in-law. For a man in his 70's he looked pretty vital, his hand felt firm on Rory's shoulder. 

He nodded quietly. 

Rory gave Mr. Somers a small smile when he took the cup of tea from him. He folded his hands around the steaming cup, he felt ice cold. 

A bit awkwardly Rory looked around, to the family photos at the wall. It wasn't a large family, it looked like Mr. and Mrs. Somers had only two children. Grace was an only's child, even though she was very young on the picture, probably around 8. The other couple had three children of approximately the same age. Rory doubted he had ever seen Mr. Somers wife, he assumed she'd died a long time ago. 

He turned his head aside, realizing that this man was skipping church because of him. "Aren't you afraid to disappoint God now you miss out on the divine service?" he asked quietly. 

The man shook his head, determined. "Jesus would have come to you too, even if He had to disrupt his own sermon for it."

Rory stared at his knees. "I doubt that," he said quietly. "I bet he's disgusted with me."

"Why would you think that?" the man answered calmly. 

Rory bit his lip. Those awful tears returned immediately. "Because... I — I'm gay."

"God loves both gay and straight people, Rory. Jesus came to this world to save all people, not just straight people. He loves us all."

He failed to look up. "Father says I'm sick. That there's an evil spirit inside me."

"I don't believe that. There are plenty of boys and girls like you. There are even a lot of animals showing homosexual behavior. It's a taboo within our community, most people have no idea what they're talking about. They blindly cite paragraphs of the Holy Scripture without studying the context."

This time, Rory did turn his head to the side. "How come you know so much about this?"

"My brother was a homosexual. We've read all the literature we could find about the subject."

"But he's not a homosexual anymore?" Rory asked hesitantly since the man had spoken in the past tense. 

"He died six years ago."

"Oh." Rory's cheeks flushed, he had forgotten about the man's age. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Mr. Somers winked at him. 

Rory bit the inside of his cheek. "You don't think I'm a sinner?"

"We're all sinners. Your orientation doesn't make you a bigger sinner than anyone else. Moreover, it is important to realize that only homosexual acts are judged; not the people struggling with such feelings."

It felt like the weight was falling from his shoulders. "But it means I can never be in a relationship, right?" he asked quietly. 

"I can't decide that for you. Some people indeed chose to be alone. Some do commit to a relationship but refrain from sexual activity, and some love each other like a woman and a man love each other, believing God blesses their relationship too as long as they are faithful and love each other. My brother met a man with which he shared a large part of his life. Not everyone agreed with his choice and not everyone accepted it, but it's something between you, your possible partner and God. It's nobody else's business. Even if they state it is."

Rory thought about his words. It was so different from what everyone had told him up to now. It confused him, although he did feel a little flame in his chest at the thought that he wasn't condemned to live a lonely life. 

"It's important to talk to God, to tell him what's troubling you. Pray that he will teach you how to deal with this, and that God will teach others how to deal with it. I believe He will guide you if you ask Him to guide you. Maybe He will bring a nice boy in your sight, maybe He won't. But also then, He wants to stay close to you and take your loneliness away."

Rory took a sip of his tea, which had cooled down. 

"I could talk to your parents, would you like that?" Mr. Somers offered. 

Rory was a little overwhelmed by the help the elderly man offered. His parents were very fierce when it came to their opinion, but something told him that this man wouldn't shy away from a conversation, no matter his age. 

"I'm not sure they will listen," Rory muttered. "My mom can only cry."

"Your mother needs time to make peace with it. It's not her fault that there is so little openness on this subject in our community. We are all to blame for that." Mr. Somers laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think you were very brave for telling your parents about your feelings, Rory. Know that you're not the only one who is struggling with this. Statistically, at least 5 percent of the population is not straight. That means that there are at least ten other churchgoers who struggle with the same feelings, but who haven't found the courage to come out yet."

Ten others... Rory couldn't imagine. Had they always hidden it from everyone? 

"I want you to remember one thing very well, Rory," the man spoke again. "Your orientation is not a sin. The love you might feel for a boy is neither a sin. The lack of love and tolerance the others have shown you, is a sin. It's not up to us to judge other people and I am sorry that the people you thought you could trust couldn't support you in the way you probably hoped for."

Rory swallowed. Tears burnt in his eyes. Oh, how he wished that his father or his mother, or one of his brothers or even Jonathan had spoken these words...

"You think it will help?" he whispered. "If you talk to my parents?"

"I hope it will, but I'll have to admit that I've been disappointed by mankind before." The old man squeezed his shoulder. "But it's worth trying, isn't it?"

After a brief moment of hesitation, Rory nodded. Yeah — it wasn't like he had a lot left to lose. And Mr. Somers was so calm and loving, his parents had to feel that too, right? Would he be able to change their minds? 

Rory didn't dare to allow the hope completely. Nevertheless, he tried to trust in a good outcome.