I'd always loved a good debate. One that stoked a fire in my heart as I defended my position like a crusader for justice. In most classes I came across as soft-spoken. During a structured argument, though? I acted like a freaking warrior.

Standing in the front of a dingy classroom filled with twenty other bored students, I began an animated opening argument that seemed to jar them awake. Some even appeared to listen. 

Probably from shock.

Many of these kids had never heard more than a quiet whisper out of me.

Now I spoke with eloquence. My voice projected with an unfamiliar force as I gesticulated and maintained eye contact with every person in that room at least once.

In some cases, I'd looked in their eyes for the first time in three years.

Like the star football player Bryan over in the far corner, who turned beet red when I caught his hazel gaze. Tall, tan, and toned as hell. An all-American boy my grandparents would have loved me to date. He even attended our local church. They'd held him up as a prime example of the kind of guy they would accept.

Whatever. Focus.

This particular debate got my blood boiling: the free dispensing of birth control at Catholic schools. I put my heart and soul into it. For a reason no one would have guessed.

For a reason I didn't even realize until much later.

Once I'd finished my opening statement—one that included famous Catholic principles like abstinence before marriage, respect towards the opposite sex, and natural law—one of the popular girls in our junior class, Sarah LaPierre, raised her hand to challenge me.

A cheerleader type.

Tall and slender, she had brilliant blue eyes and chestnut waves highlighted golden blonde. All the guys loved her. She sported those manicured French nail extensions that were popular back then in the late nineties. The ones longer than eagle talons and expensive as hell.

The total opposite of me in every way.

Well, almost.

As much as I wished I could have called Sarah a blonde bimbo, she often gave me a run for my money. Part of me freaking loved it. Winning against her was a true victory.

Sarah plastered a haughty smile on her face before I called on her. "Do you actually think teens will stay abstinent until marriage? If that were true, we wouldn't need to discuss birth control at all."

"Many will decide to have sex," I replied, my voice equally confident. "However, the school policy should continue to reflect the guiding principles of the Catholic Church I mentioned in my statement."

"Even if they're ancient and outdated?"

"If the Catholic Church needs reform," I replied, "that's a different question."

Sarah flicked her pen up and down between her thumb and forefinger. "Maybe we can start the process of reform. You know? Like grassroots efforts, beginning at this school."

"Let me ask you a question, Sarah."

"Go ahead, Jess."

"If you think a state or federal law is outdated or wrong, can you just break it?"

She squirmed in her seat.

"No, you can't," I answered for her. "You have to petition your representatives in government to get the law repealed or amended. Same with the laws and regulations of the Church. Until they're changed, we need to uphold those rules."

"The prohibition of birth control isn't one of the ten commandments," retorted Sarah. "Or even one of the Beatitudes. They don't come from the Bible. They come from church teachings."

"Perhaps reform is needed, but that's not the question." I pointed at the board. "The question is: Should Catholic schools give out free birth control to students? Answer: No, it's against our laws."

"What chance do we have to reform the Catholic Church if we don't rebel?" she asked, frustrated.

"So you're advocating the religious equivalent of civil disobedience?"

"Yes, it's unjust! They're our bodies. We should do what we want."

It pained me to disagree with Sarah this time. In truth, I couldn't have phrased it better myself.

But I had to stay firm and remember my task: to defend the Church's position, not my position. I imagined myself as a lawyer where the Catholic Church was on trial and I was the defense attorney.

I opened up Mom's copy of the Catholic catechism to where I had placed a few sticky notes and mentioned a few relevant quotes. "If you decide to attend a parochial school, you must accept these principles as the backbone of our student handbook. Or you should choose a different school."

Sarah popped her gum. "The catechism is just a bunch of old guys making rules about stuff they know nothing about. Abstinence until marriage. Virginity as a sacred virtue. No condoms even in marriage!"

"Throw away your gum, Sarah," said Mrs. Delacourt—the religious education teacher—in a stern tone. "That's a detention."

A crooked smile crept across my lips as she tossed it into the wastepaper basket and sauntered back to her seat. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead with an intermittent buzzing.

I closed the manila folder with my notes and jutted my chin. "We can't modify our rules to conform to everyone's wishes. It'd be chaos. The Church stands as a bastion for traditional values."

Sarah crossed her arms. "Fitchburg High hands out birth control."

"If the local public school wants to follow that policy, so be it," I countered. "It's state run. There's a separation between church and state, and they can do what they want."

"But...?"

"But we are not them. People send their children here for a reason."

"To get a better education?"

She isn't wrong.

"Yes, sure." I cupped my chin in thought. "As such, we can't blindly follow what the state schools do. What kind of a message does it send teens to hand out birth control whenever they please?"

Another popular cheerleader—the queen bee Nicky Storm—called out from the back. "That the staff care if their students get pregnant?"

A murmur of ascent burbled through the class.

"You can get condoms anywhere," I said. "Why should they be handed out by the school nurse or vending machines in the bathrooms?"

"Because people need easy access."

"You mean to tell me people can't wait until they're in a safe space to have sex?" I asked, genuinely dumbfounded. "Are we rational human beings or are we animals?"

Sarah piped back up. "Hey, Jess. Maybe you want to go up to your grandparents and ask, 'Hey, can we get condoms at the store?' But I think I'll give that a pass."

Oh, really? She wants to go there?

Two can play at this game.

"You can't drive to the store and get your own condoms?" I retorted.

Several students cupped their mouths and stifled muted laughs and sniggers. Bryan turned as red as a tomato. Probably because Sarah was his girlfriend.

Oops!

Well, she started it.

Still, I felt bad for Bryan. It must have sucked having classes like this taught by his own mom. One of his teammates gave him a reassuring slap on the shoulder.

Quite frankly, I didn't see what the big deal was. Why should I mind discussing condoms and sex any more or less than discussing the use of marijuana or campaign finance reform?

Weirdos.

Mrs. Delacourt cleared her throat, her expression as stern as an angry hawk. "One warning, Jess. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but keep the debate respectful."

I pursed my lips and nodded.

"The school has a responsibility to protect us," insisted Sarah. "Our health. Our safety."

"Once you hit the age of consent—which is sixteen in Massachusetts—you should be old enough to take responsibility for your own protection," I said in a forceful tone. "Which means buy it yourself."

Sarah turned bright pink and sank down in the metal chair. The stifled snickers and chuckles didn't faze me. If my classmates wanted to be immature about the topic, it was their right.

But I wanted to win.

Nicky sat up straight and squared her shoulders. "You didn't answer the question, Jess."

"What question?"

"Let me repeat it for you." Nicky stared at me with emerald green eyes that glinted with intensity. "Would you ask your grandparents for condoms? No, you'd go to the school nurse."

Silence fell in the classroom.

Nicky meant the question as a personal jibe. To the extent that fundamentalist Catholics still existed in the modern world, my grandparents would probably qualify. In my family we didn't even say the word sex.

If I'd asked them for condoms, they would have had a heart attack.

Then again, if I'd wanted condoms, I would have had a heart attack. Because that didn't happen. Like, ever. It would have meant that some kind of alien had taken over my body.

That was one of the reasons I felt confident about spearheading this defense on my own. I could recite the Catholic maxims by heart. In fact, I'd already spouted them off many times as a defense mechanism in an effort to explain to my classmates why I couldn't relate to their experience at all.

The Church makes me do it.

Here we go again.

"I wouldn't need condoms in the first place," I said, holding my head high, "because I'm celibate."

Sarah scoffed. "Yeah, no kidding."

"As the Church teaches us."

Half of the class gaped at my open admission while the other half sneered. One thing definitely worked in my favor: All eyes were fixed on me and wide awake. No one was sleeping now.

Mission accomplished.

"Meanwhile the rest of us live in a place called reality where teenagers have sex," said Nicky. "Until you actually know what it's like, you're just like the old priests."

"In what way?" I asked, clenching my teeth.

"Out of touch. Ranting about shit you know nothing about."

"Nicky, language. That's a detention." Mrs. Delacourt cast us both stern looks. "Jess, you're a hair's breadth from detention too."

Nicky's not wrong. My conscience burned inside like my cheeks did outside. Liar. Cheat. Fraud.

It doesn't matter. Hold the line.

"Speaking of questions, you didn't answer mine." I gripped both sides of the wooden podium and leaned forward with a burning intensity of my own. "Why can't we wait? Do you think we're all powerless against hormones? Why would anyone risk sex so young? For what?"

The class fell silent.

"Like I said, you don't know what you're talking about," muttered Nicky.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"The official policy of the Church is indeed abstinence, not birth control," interjected Mrs. Delacourt. "Jess, you made your position clear in your opening statement."

I gave her a curt nod.

"But I'm curious," she added. "Do you believe that policy should be reformed? Not from a legal point of view. Personally speaking."

"With all due respect, my personal beliefs play no part in the debate," I answered as my gut churned with nerves for the first time during my presentation.

Crap! We're heading into dangerous waters...

"Outside the context of the debate," she insisted, running a hand across her voluminous dark curls. "I've graded your defense of the Church's stance and welcome you to give your own view."

I knew what she was doing. Mrs. Delacourt had given me the option to moderate my stance. To make myself more likable in the eyes of my fellow classmates. Or even her eyes, perhaps. To remind them that my task involved defending a statement that wasn't necessarily my own.

"I adopted this side of the debate for the challenge," I said. "Anyone can defend their own side. It takes more effort to defend an opposing viewpoint."

Sarah and Nicky visibly relaxed, along with several other of my fellow classmates.

"So you do believe the school nurse should give out condoms and the pill?" asked Sarah.

I couldn't lie. Not even to save what precious little of my popularity remained.

"No," I said. "I think neither the school nor the Church should interfere in people's sex lives, whether it's to promote abstinence or birth control."

A wave of murmurs swept through the class.

Ha! That surprised them.

"In fact—to be quite frank—I don't think anyone has the right to govern morality as long as there is mutual consent according to the law," I added. "Our laws should govern criminal and civil behavior, not morals. And the Church least of all."

Nicky furrowed her brow. "What exactly does that mean?"

"If you choose to have sex and get pregnant," I said with a shrug, "that's your problem."

Her jaw dropped. Classic!

"I'm a libertarian," I added. "I don't give a flying bat what you do. We shouldn't expect to be coddled by school or government. As long as there's consent, we're responsible for our own choices."

The bell rang. For once it took the students half a second to come to their senses before gathering their belongings. A wry smile crept across my lips as I slammed the catechism shut.

Nailed it.

___

Author's note: Thank you so much for checking out the novelization of my completed multimedia novella, Mask of Celibacy. If you enjoyed it, please vote and/or comment. 

It'd be lovely if you shared it with your friends or put it in your reading list. My sincere thanks to all my wonderful readers, from the silent ones to the serial commenters and everyone in between. <3