"I swear, Pastor Edward, it's not what it seems!" I stammer, my cheeks burning crimson. "We didn't mean for any of this to happen. It was just one time, we experimented with smoking weed, and somehow it made us gay."
Pastor Edward's eyes shift between me and Elijah, searching for any sign of deception, before erupting into uncontrollable laughter. He clutches his stomach, struggling to maintain his balance as tears stream down his face.
"It's not a laughing matter, Pastor," I protest earnestly, desperately hoping he will take us seriously.
With a wide grin, Pastor Edward tries to compose himself, wiping away a tear. "Let me get this straight," he chuckles, his voice still laced with amusement. "You boys believe that a single encounter with marijuana magically turned you gay?"
Elijah and I exchange uncertain glances, unsure of how to respond. We cautiously nod, silently praying that we won't face any severe consequences.
Pastor Edward's laughter intensifies, filling the room, and we exchange worried glances, fearing the worst. "You two have just given me the biggest laugh of my life," he manages to utter between fits of laughter. "Come with me, boys."
We trail behind him, our eyes widening in disbelief as Pastor Edwards produces his own joint. My heart nearly skips a beat, unable to process the sight before us.
Elijah's voice trembles with shock as he blurts out, "Did marijuana accidentally make you gay too?"
Pastor Edward chuckles, his expression calm and collected. "Boys, smoking marijuana does not determine your sexual orientation. It's enjoyed by many, including your parents, Cory."
A surge of confidence courses through me, and I retort, "No way. That can't be true."
The pastor's laughter fills the air as he speaks, his tone lighthearted yet secretive. "Oh, they certainly do. I've shared a joint with them on numerous occasions. But, of course, don't let them know I spilled the beans."
My mind struggles to comprehend the image of my parents passing around a joint with our small-town pastor. "I can't wrap my head around that," I confess, my voice tinged with disbelief. "So, we're not gay?"
Pastor Edward takes a puff from the joint, a cloud of smoke swirling around him. "You, my boy, are definitely gay, but it wasn't the pot that made you this way." His words hang in the air, accompanied by the faint aroma of marijuana. It never occurs to me that old people smoke weed.
He extends the joint towards me, and for a moment, I hesitate, unsure of what to do. "So, this won't somehow make me more attracted to guys?" I ask cautiously.
He lets out an exasperated sigh. "The education system in this town has really failed us, hasn't it? Cory, I always believed you were a smart young man. Let me break it down for you. Being gay is not something that can be influenced or changed by smoking a joint or anything else. If you're gay, you were born that way, and there's nothing that can alter that truth. Did you have feelings for Elijah before we started smoking?"
I feel a blush creep up my cheeks as I admit, "Well... I did notice his captivating eyes, and there was an undeniable connection I felt with him from the start." Finally, gathering my courage, I accept the joint and take a small puff before passing it to Elijah. It's mind-boggling that we're sharing this moment with Pastor Edward. "But isn't it considered unchristian to be gay?"
He shakes his head, disappointment flickering in his eyes. "Where on earth did you get that notion? Have I ever preached about homosexuality in church? Stay away from the misleading information on the internet." His voice carries a mix of frustration and compassion. "Cory, let me make this clear. Jesus loves and accepts you just as you are, whether you're gay or not."
"Phew, what a relief," I exclaim as Pastor Edward extinguishes the joint.
Elijah and I exchange smiles, grateful that our genuine bond isn't solely attributed to marijuana. It turns out that smoking pot doesn't determine one's sexual orientation.
"Tonight, I'll give you boys a ride to Elijah's place, but tomorrow, you should have an honest conversation about everything, except the part about smoking weed, of course," Pastor Edward chuckles. "I can't believe you thought marijuana made you gay."
"Well, we only realized it after our first time smoking," I defend ourselves.
Pastor Edward continues to laugh as he drives us to Elijah's house. We spend the night locked in his room, cherishing each other's presence, cuddling in his cozy bed.
The following morning, I head home and summon my parents to the kitchen table.
"What's troubling you, sweetheart?" my mom inquires upon seeing my expression.
"You and Dad should sit down," I suggest, and the three of us gather around the table.
"What's this about, son?" my dad asks.
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "I'm gay," I finally confess.
Silence permeates the room before my parents burst into laughter.
"What's so amusing?" I demand.
"Honey, we already knew," Mom says.
"We've been aware for quite some time," Dad chuckles.
"What? How?" I ask, utterly astonished.
"Have you ever observed yourself? Have you witnessed your car karaoke sessions? Sweetie, we've known," Mom replies, wearing a gentle smile. "You do you."
"You do?" I inquire, still in shock.
"Absolutely," Dad affirms with a grin. "We were just curious how long it would take for you to realize it yourself. We're proud of you."
"You are?" I ask, overwhelmed.
"Who you love is your own business. It doesn't change who you are as our son," Mom assures me, with Dad echoing her sentiments.
From that moment on, I am able to live my life openly with Elijah, knowing that the important people in our lives support us unconditionally.