Poe’s not looking at the priest sitting across from him. His eyes are fixed solidly on the edge of the dark, heavy desk between them. His fingers are curved around the arms of his chair, standing out against the dark red fabric. He’s completely dwarfed by the chair. He’s always slight, always little more than a wisp of a boy, but in this monstrosity of a chair he looks even younger than his ten years. If his fair skin didn’t stand out so sharply, it would be easy to overlook him entirely.

Unfortunately, Reverend Lawhead isn’t overlooking him.

“Allen, is there something you’ve come here to speak to me about?” The man’s voice is soft, but it still has a frightening, no-nonsense edge to it that makes Poe nervous.

Poe shakes his head, his hand straying from the arm of the chair to brush his bangs out of his eyes. He turns his attention to a nick in the leg of the desk.

“Your parents brought you in to see me for a reason, didn’t they Allen? Was there something that they wanted you to talk about?”

Poe licks his lips. They’re too red for boy’s lips, always flushed and pretty. He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.” His voice is exquisitely soft, perfectly polite.

Reverend Lawhead sighs gently. “Allen, I think there is.” There’s a silent pause. “You know, Allen, confessing things that are bothering you or confusing you can help you be happier. Don’t you want to be happy?”

Poe brushes his hair off of his forehead again and shifts in the chair, looking at his knees.

Reverend Lawhead reaches for the top drawer of his desk and pulls it open. Poe’s light eyes raise, fixing on the priest’s hand as he draws a book out of the drawer. It’s a very plain book, hard-backed and covered with coarse blue cloth. A diary. Poe’s diary.

Poe stares at the book as if looking at it could make it go away. It doesn’t work. His heart is fluttering against his ribcage, making him slightly dizzy. The priest opens the diary to a marked page. One of the most recent entries. He puts his glasses on and studies the page, then looks up at Poe.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you would like to talk about?”

Poe’s eyes finally meet with the older man’s. Someone’s been reading his diary. John and Frances have, and now Reverend Lawhead is, and he feels like someone’s opened his head up and studied his brain. He bites his lip hard, his eyes wide.

Reverend Lawhead looks down at the diary. “April second.” He glances at the calendar on his desk. “That would be last Tuesday, I believe.” He sets the book down, holding the pages open, facing them toward Poe so that he can read them.

Today was so pretty! I only needed a sweater, and mom let me go to the Thomas’s house. First we played hide and seek. Jenny was it, so she stood by the big tree with the hole in it and covered her eyes. We made her count to one hundred so that we could hide really really well, because that’s the best kind of hide and seek. I hid by the creek underneath some bushes. I don’t know how long I was there but then I heard someone coming. I thought it was Jenny, but it wasn’t. It was Andy. He wanted to hide in the same spot! He was in the shed but he heard Jenny and she almost found him. I let him hide and be a little fox with me. We heard Jenny coming and instead of letting her find us Andy took my hand and pulled me out from under the bush we started running. It turned into tag and Jenny chased us across the bridge and up the hill. We were almost to the house before Jenny tagged me. (Of course it was me first!) Andy never let go of my hand the whole time and when I had to go home he asked me if I would come play again soon. I’m in love with Andy.

Poe re-reads the last part. He chews on his lip and looks away, looking intently at the corner of the desk.

Reverend Lawhead lets the book close. “Anything you would like to say now, Allen?”

Poe doesn’t say a word.

The reverend sighs, sitting back in his chair and taking off his glasses, polishing them. “Allen, your parents are concerned. It’s good that you have friends, and that you play games. It’s good that you have someone who you have a lot of fun with, but that doesn’t mean that you’re in love with that person. It’s good, and it’s natural to have friendships like that. But boys don’t fall in love with boys, Allen. Boys fall in love with girls.”

Poe’s cheeks flush, coloring pink just along the cheekbones. Another thing that’s wrong. Boys don’t blush like that. He raises his hand, pressing his fingers to his cheek, feeling the heat from it. He nods, still not looking at the priest. “I'm sorry,” he says softly.