"...probably with dating pools that don't have Harriet or Harriet-equivalents in them it's less of an issue, it just seems salient, given. And I would not have wanted anyone to say yes to me because that's what they were supposed to do." 

He is well aware of how hypocritical this statement is. 

"And yet."

"And yet," he agrees. "You see why I think it's not the best advice." 

"If you tell same-sex-attracted women to say no unless they want to go out on a date with the man half of them will never say 'yes' to their first date."

"...I think a world where I never dated Melissa would have been better for us both." 

"Well. You don't want to be straight."

"That's true. But even if I did, she still deserved better than someone who didn't actually want to be there." 

"Jan and Lev seem to be getting along."

"They do! He talks about her all the time, it's sweet." 

"Sometimes when same-sex-attracted people give heterosexuality a chance they wind up being capable of it."

"And sometimes they wind up kissing someone they don't want to be kissing for two years, and sometimes they wind up sobbing in the bathroom. I didn't say it was wrong for everyone." 

"You could still heal. If you tried."

He considers his words before he says, "I have never felt more broken than when I was trying to be whole. 

Maybe I could change. I don't think it would be healing." 

"There's a reason I'm not actually trying to convince you."

"Thank you." Warm, sincere. 

"It seems... questionable... to choose to love and serve a person rather than God. But it is hard for me not to admire devotion, whatever form it takes."

"From the inside it doesn't feel like a choice." His voice is still warm. Christine's whole face looks different when she smiles for real; she looks — healthier. More alive. 

"It never does."

...he thinks maybe he understands why she'd make herself miserable for this a little better. 

(Would he do that to himself for Lev? Live a life that meant he faked nearly all his smiles, never talk to his sister again? 

He doesn't know. He doesn't know if he wants to know.) 

Objectively, Christine is probably not going to be mad at her. 

It's still hard not to be nervous. 

(FAG is still written on her chest in her own blood.) 

Christine opens with:

"You're not going to have to talk to Harriet. I promise."

"Thank you." 

Her shoulders are still curled inwards but mostly she sounds relieved. 

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"— I —" 

She doesn't know. She wants to talk about it but once she opens her mouth she isn't sure how much she'll say. How much she'll be able to avoid saying. 

"I'm not going to be angry at you," she says gently.