Lessons in Sin

Rather than hiding the destruction, she held the box of cookies out to the side and struck a pose. “Rate the fit.”

“The fit?”

“Old people,” she huffed under her breath. “The outfit. Rate the outfit.”

Carrie choked on a laugh and quickly blanked her face.

“I gave you an order, and every second you disobey is another strike.”

“You’re no fun.” Tinsley tucked the cookies to her chest, munching on another handful as she marched into the hall.

“Carrie, grab the scissors off the desk and join us.” I held out my hand to Tinsley. “Give me the food.”

She pushed her lips out and stepped back, hugging the box tighter. “I haven’t eaten since lunch. Yesterday.”

“Catholics fast at least one full hour before receiving the Holy Eucharist.”

“I don’t know what that means but…phew. Good thing I’m not Catholic.” She ate another cookie and stared at my waiting hand.

I didn’t move, didn’t look away as I mentally added up her infractions.

Her breathing hastened, and she slowly moved the cookies toward me. I gripped the box, and she held on for a moment, tugging, testing me, before letting go.

Carrie appeared at my side. I took the scissors and gave her the cookies.

“Hold out your hand,” I said to Tinsley.

Her eyes popped wide. “No way.”

“The strikes are multiplying.” I kept my voice calm and my face expressionless. “Each one comes with a consequence. It’s going to be a very long day for you.”

“I won’t let you cut off my fingers. What kind of school is this?”

I lifted my gaze to her long, shimmery, pearl-colored hair.

“Not my hair!” She wheezed frantically and thrust out her arm. “If you draw blood, I’m suing.”

“The other hand.”

She growled and switched arms.

With a snap of the blades, I cut through the delicate diamond bracelet on her wrist and caught it as it fell.

“No!” Her jaw hung open, her breaths bursting out. “My brother gave me that! It’s a three-thousand-dollar tennis bracelet.”

“Now it’s worthless. Just like your uniform.” I tossed it toward the trash can in her room and handed the scissors to Carrie. “Which dorm did you steal the food and scissors from?”

Tinsley stared at her bare wrist, her eyes stark with rage.

“I have infinite patience, Miss Constantine. But right now…” I looked at my watch. “Twenty-one people are going to be late for Mass because of your selfishness.”

Her rebellion was expected, but she was pushing it too far, and she knew it.

“Last room on the right.” She pointed behind her.

“Return the stolen items,” I said to Carrie. “Quickly.”

As she raced off, I leaned in and put my mouth in the space beside Tinsley’s ear. She smelled like lemon drops and vanilla. And stolen cookies.

“I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work.” I breathed in her stillness, her helpless fear. “Mommy Dearest forked over a lot of money for you to be here. You’re stuck with me for a year.”

“The best way to motivate me is to tell me it can’t be done.” She turned her face toward mine, the sputter of her exhalations peppering my lips. “Save us both the trouble and send me home.”

Her mouth was too close. I could taste the sugar, the delicious sin that awaited on the other side of that narrow inch. It was just a twitch away. A short, compulsive motion.

Our gazes held, and in that sliver of impermissible nearness, I felt my teeth tearing into the poutline of her lips. I tasted her blood, heard her whimpers, and saw her beautiful pain.

The tread of footsteps ripped me from the reverie.

As Carrie hurried toward us, I straightened, and Tinsley released a held breath.

“Carrie.” I kept my voice smooth and unaffected. “Explain to Tinsley why Catholics practice fasting before Mass.”

“Physical hunger strengthens our focus and creates spiritual hunger for the Lord.”

“Thank you. You can go. Tell Father Isaac to head to the church. Tinsley and I will be a moment.”

“Okay.” She backed toward the stairwell, tossing me a coy smile. “It’s really good to see you again, Father Magnus. I look forward to your Advanced Calculus class this—”

“Mass started two minutes ago.”

“Right.” She spun and took off down the stairs.

Tinsley leaned against the doorframe of her room and slid her fingers along the placket of buttons between her breasts. “What are you going to do to me?”

“That’ll come later. It’ll be unpleasant, but try not to worry about it.”

“What do you mean?” Her fingers quivered, and she lowered her hand.

Delayed consequences had the best effect. The anticipation, the not knowing, was a consequence in and of itself. But it was nowhere near the punishment she would be receiving this afternoon.

A glance into her room confirmed she had four undamaged uniforms hanging in the closet.

“You have sixty seconds to follow the dress code and meet me in the stairwell.” I strode toward the exit.

“Are there any sharp objects along the way?” she asked my back. “So I can throw myself on one of them?”