by Rowan Shaw
"What if they don't get on board with your little idea?" Cyrille asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Once again, I can't imagine any parents who wouldn't want what's best for their kids."
The principal looked at Cyrille from the corner of his eye before beaming at me again. "I really appreciate your innovative ideas, Enzo. It's a breath of fresh air."
"There is nothing new about the concept," I replied. "Many deaf schools in France already offer those options. It's only a matter of catching up with them."
The principal nodded. I had him hooked on a challenge to compete with other schools. I knew he would do his best to make our programs as competitive as possible, and I didn't care what his ulterior motive was as long as our students got a fair chance at a proper education.
He stood and patted me on the back while everyone left the room. "Good job, Enzo. There won't be time to put the new program in place by this Fall, but I would hope it could be considered for the following year."
I wasn't too pleased with that option, but sadly, he was right. I would take anything he offered as long as it benefited the kids.
Chapter 15
FLORIAN
I looked at my phone for a while before deciding to text Enzo and ask him if we could Facetime. Though he'd told me he had an app to place calls, I knew that was still a challenge for him because he couldn't read lips at the same time.
His reply came a few minutes later with a Facetime call.
"How are you?" I asked as soon as his handsome face showed up on the screen.
"I'm all right." He smiled wanly, his scar digging into his cheekbone. "Got into an argument after work today, but that's fine."
"Oh. D'you wanna talk about it?"
He shrugged. "Just Cyrille being his typical selfish ass and me getting tired of his attitude. We don't agree on the new program I want for the kids at school. And, of course, he had to make it all about himself."
"I see." I felt a hint of jealousy knowing his ex got to see him every day and didn't even appreciate how lucky he was.
"He didn't like what I had to say at the meeting, so he felt the need to catch up with me afterward and patronize me like a child. It didn't go too well."
I narrowed my eyes. "Are you okay?"
He nodded but made a face. "I'm used to his exuberance. Cyrille never takes well to contradictions. It doesn't mean I'm going to shut up."
"Are you free tonight?" I changed the subject to cheer him up. "I'd like to go eat somewhere if you're available."
Enzo chewed on his thumbnail. "I would love to take you up on that, but I always tutor on Monday evenings."
"Oh, okay."
"I'm done at eight if you would like to go then," he suggested.
"Sounds good. I wouldn't want to cut into part of your income." I gave a wink, but Enzo frowned like he didn't understand, so I repeated myself in case he hadn't heard.
"My income?" he asked.
"Yeah, from the tutoring," I signed.
"Oh, I do that for free. But I can't just get out of it, you know? I have to tell the kids in advance if I'm canceling."
"Oh. So it's volunteering, then?"
"Yes," he replied, as natural as ever while I sat there blown away by his generosity. And yet, I wasn't surprised. Volunteering was something Enzo would definitely do. "What time do you start?"
"I start at five, usually right after work. But when I'm on vacation, I might take on a few more students and start at three. We'll see."
I blinked at my screen. I couldn't believe Enzo found it completely normal to spend three to five hours a week tutoring for free. But then, of course he did.
"Are they students from your school?" I asked.
"No, I teach middle school. These are children I'm tutoring. I place ads in the newspaper or on social media. Then their parents call me if they need anything. I help them with reading, and we practice French Sign Language. It's not always enough to compensate for what they lack at school, but I try. I wish France would finally consider teaching sign language across the hexagone. Starting in kindergarten."
I nodded. Learning foreign languages was mandatory starting in middle school anyway. Why not include French Sign Language as well?
"Is that okay? I mean, if we go out at eight," he signed.
"Yes, of course. I'm never done with work until at least six anyway. I have some evening tours this week, but Héloïse always covers Mondays."
Enzo gave a tiny smile. "Can we do something simple like a bistro?"
"Sure. Whatever you want."
He seemed to perk up at that, his entire face lighting up. I couldn't wait to see him in person again.
Chapter 16
ENZO
Having dinner with Florian was the highlight of my week. I didn't see him again after that because I was too busy correcting papers from the exams. I was finally on vacation for two full months. I sighed in relief as I lounged on my couch, stretching my arms over the headrest. I was exhausted and ready for absolute laziness.
Patrick beheld me from all his height when he returned from the bathroom. He wiped his hands on the black slacks of his fancy suit. "I'm taking you out."
"I was planning on watching TV."
Apparently, seeing me sprawled on my sofa with a pillow under my ear, a thin blanket over my lap, and the remote already in hand wasn't enough of a sign that I wasn't leaving my place.
"You're going to stay here watching TV all day?" He cocked a sassy brow at me.
"Yes. It's summertime and I'm on vacation, in case you didn't know. Resting is what vacations are for. You should try it sometime."
Patrick gave me the most arrogant look. "Yes, it's summertime indeed, and it's nice outside, so we should go out. You look pale. You need some vitamin D, or you'll get all depressed again."
"I'm not depressed. You're the one depressing me. I just want to rest and take a nap."
"It's my lunch break," Patrick insisted. "I came all the way here to see you. I have a patient to meet at two P.M., so until then, you're my only entertainment."
Lucky me!
"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm staying here," I signed and flashed a wide grin.
Patrick raked his deep green eyes over me. My hair was a mess, my t-shirt was stained with coffee, and I may have had the remains of drool in the corners of my lips from falling asleep on the couch. I could feel his judgmental stare piercing right through me.
"Is that rainbow underwear you're wearing?" he asked, wrinkling his nose before I pulled the blanket up to my chest.
"Yeah. So what?"
His eyebrow never dropped.
"I'm on a break," I signed. "Just leave me be, Patrick! And move out of the way; I have a marathon to watch."
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do. Move!"
He folded his arms over his chest and stood right in front of the screen.
"You're a pain in my behind, you know that?"
"Did you see him again?" he asked.
"Who?" I stood from the couch, ready to push him away from my TV.
"Florian."
"Yes, I helped him move into his new apartment."
"Move? You never told me about that."
After trying to shove him and seeing he wouldn't budge— tall giraffe that he was—I sighed and retreated to the couch.
"He was living with his girlfriend, but she cheated on him so he moved out. End of story."
Patrick raised his hands to stop me, his eyes bulging. "Wait a minute! He's bi?"
Uh oh, why did I have to bring that up?
"Yes, he's bi," I signed. "So what?"
"You can't date a bi guy!" he signed back.
"I'm not dating him, first of all. He's just a friend I hadn't seen in a long time."
A friend who used to give me head more often than I could keep track of—someone I was desperately in love with back then—but Patrick didn't need to know the details. He also didn't need to know Florian and I had gone out to eat or that Florian had flirte
d with me the entire time.
"Bi guys can't be trusted."
"Oh really? Is that what you tell your bi patients? Nice! I'm sure they'd be really happy to hear that."
I clicked my tongue when he raised his chin. "Every time I date a bi guy, he ends up double-crossing me."
"Yes, well, Cyrille isn't bi, and yet, he still managed to cheat on me. Go figure! Of course, only I would manage to end up with the only gay man in the world who can't be trusted. Lucky me! And I guess Florian is just as cursed since he dated the only straight woman to ever be unfaithful."
Patrick didn't take the bait and ignored my sarcasm.
"What if he starts craving pussy, huh?" he signed, his green eyes a threat. "Bi guys don't just like dicks, they also like things you can't provide, like boobs. Trust me, I would know. They love boobs."
I couldn't refute that argument. Florian loved breasts for sure. When we were dating, I noticed him checking out girls on a regular basis. And yes, I also found a straight porn video on his computer one time. He was in the bathroom, and I'd made the bad decision of snooping around his stuff. I couldn't fathom how a guy penetrating a woman could possibly turn him on, but it obviously did. It puzzled me, but who was I to judge? I knew he had never cheated on me, though. And considering how Marlène had treated him, I doubted he'd be dating a woman again anytime soon.
"Well, what if I start craving other guys?" I signed. "Having fantasies isn't just a bi thing, you know? It's part of our human condition."
"Maybe, but it's not the same thing."
"How is it not the same thing? Being monogamous can be hard on bi people, gay people, pan people, or straight people, and you know it."
"I just don't want you to get hurt again."
I inhaled deeply because he didn't seem to understand. "The last time I was hurt, the guy wasn't bi."
Patrick's nostrils flared. "The one time you were hurt the most, the guy was bi. It was Florian who was involved in what happened to you. Not Cyrille. Or do I need to remind you of that?"
"Oh, so I should blame what happened on Florian's bisexuality now?" I was getting truly irritated. Patrick was pushing all my buttons, and his arguments didn't make any sense. "I'll date whomever I want. Whenever I want. You're not my mom, Patrick. Stop acting like a mother hen. I'm sick of it."
His lips thinned into a straight line as he raised his hands and slapped his thighs. "You know what? I'm outta here. You want to date some bi guy and get hurt again, not my problem."
With that, he stormed out and slammed my apartment door. I didn't follow him or apologize. I didn't need him to cocoon me. He needed to work on his biphobia. Seriously. That was his problem, not mine. I had dated Florian long enough in high school to know he was a good person who didn't cheat, even if I still didn't understand why he'd never contacted me after the accident.
Chapter 17
FLORIAN
I tossed and turned in my sleep, unable to find a comfortable position, then reshaped my pillow, hoping that would help.
It didn't, and when sleep finally came at the crack of dawn, it brought along its share of nightmares.
***
"Putain, who told you two fags you could kiss in broad daylight like that?" a mountain of a man snarled as he blocked the way out of the dead-end alley. Enzo and I had come here so we could make out in peace, away from other people's eyes. We didn't mean any harm. Why couldn't straight people just leave us alone?
Enzo pulled out of my embrace and gauged the man.
"What are you looking at, sale pédé?" the man hurled his homophobic slur in Enzo's face.
The words took a harder punch than I was willing to let on. Enzo recoiled against the wall, seeking refuge by my side. Neither of us was big enough to deal with this guy, who seemed to have targeted Enzo specifically. He was glaring at him like he had murder on his mind.
My body started to shake from the adrenaline pumping through my veins, and instead of pushing me to flee, my gripping fear froze me to the spot.
For the first time in my life, I felt real terror.
Before I could react, the guy grabbed Enzo by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. He punched him so hard in the face that Enzo's head whiplashed to the side from the impact, making my insides curl as a scream cut out of my throat.
I went for the guy, trying to get a grip on his arms, but he was too bulky and strong for me. He grabbed Enzo's head in two hands and banged his temple against the wall. Enzo let out a deep yelp before the guy dropped him. My boyfriend fell to the ground, where the asshole started kicking him in the head before pulling out a knife. I jumped on his back to wrestle him away from Enzo and tried to strangle him from behind. Enzo wasn't moving anymore. He had rolled into a ball on the ground, writhing in pain.
I wanted to kill that bastard for hurting him, but he slammed me backward into the wall, hard enough that the back of my head hit the bricks. I got dizzy and dropped my grip on his neck. I fell down but caught myself just in time, though not fast enough.
The asshole smirked at me as he tugged Enzo's head from the ground, pulling it backward by his hair. Enzo groaned but barely reacted. The blade of the knife shone before I could respond. The guy never stopped smiling as he sliced the side of Enzo's cheek. He raised the blade again, ready to do more damage to Enzo's beautiful face, but I nearly lost my damn mind.
I screamed and launched myself forward, ready to kill him. I slammed my shoulder into his stomach. A soft woof escaped his mouth, and he dropped the knife. I heard the clicking sound of it hitting the ground, but that was all I could process. My head was buzzing as I kept screaming for help like a damn fury. The ruckus caught someone's attention, and a man finally showed up around the corner of the alley.
"What's going on in here?"
The homophobic prick who had attacked us glared at Enzo and then at me before he ran out, shoving our savior to the side. He left the alley and disappeared without a trace as I knelt by Enzo's side. My boyfriend was unconscious, with a large gash dug into the skin of his pale cheek, oozing blood which stained my hands. There was blood coming from his nose as well, and his face was already starting to bruise.
"Please help us," I begged and stared into the deep brown eyes of the man at the end of the alley. He pulled out his cell phone and—
***
A scream tore out of my throat as I sat up in bed, disoriented. I was in sweat, soaking wet. I didn't know where I was. It took me a while to find my bearings in the dark. Even when I turned on the light, I had no idea what the fuck was going on until I remembered I was living at Amal's place. My heart was racing. I had difficulty breathing. I hadn't had one of those nightmares in years, but I could still taste the fear I felt that day. I didn't want to ponder the meaning of my dream, but it felt like a warning I should heed.
Chapter 18
ENZO
"You didn't reply to my messages," I signed, standing on the threshold of Florian's apartment.
His dark blue eyes roamed my face from behind his glasses before he cleared his throat and looked away. Something flashed through his gaze—something I couldn't quite read, though I didn't like it at all.
"What's wrong?"
"I've been busy since I moved," he signed.
"Too busy for a simple text? I thought you said you wanted to go grab coffee again, but it's been radio silence since we had dinner the one time."
"Look, I just..."
"Will you let me in?" I signed. If he thought he could get out of this one without a serious discussion, he was wrong. I still hurt whenever I thought of him leaving me after the attack. This time, I wasn't going to shut up until I knew why he was pulling away again.
He nodded and moved to the side almost reluctantly. I stepped into the foyer before he closed the door.
"Do you want coffee?" he asked.
I looked at my watch. "It's three P.M. I'd better not. Do you have water or some juice?"
"I think Amal has some mint syrup."
I shrugged. "Sure."
I hadn't drunk syrup since I was a kid and visited my grandma. She would always pour way too much of it, almost half the glass, before adding water. It was so sugary, it made my teeth ache, but I loved it anyway.
"Does she have pomegranate?" I asked.
"I'll check."
I followed him into the kitchen, the walls of which were white, the cabinets light brown, and the table at the center covered with a plastic, flowery tablecloth. I sat down and waited while Florian perused through the metal bottles on the counter.
"She has mint, strawberry, and lemon. No pomegranate."
"I'll take strawberry."
Florian opened a top cabinet for a glass and filled a pitcher with tap water, then let me mix my own drink as he made himself an espresso.
"Would you like something to eat? I'm not sure what she has," he signed once his coffee was ready.
"Nah, I'm good. I'd like you to stop avoiding the subject and tell me why you didn't answer my messages."
Pressed against the counter and facing me, Florian took a sip of his espresso. "I don't want to put you in danger, okay? And if being with me is going to do that, then we might as well stop now."
"Okay, wait a minute. All we did was go out to eat as friends. And what do you mean 'put me in danger?'" I stared at him, and when his eyes filled with sadness and remorse, my insides twisted. "You're blaming yourself for what happened that day?"
Florian shrugged, then sat down. "Well, I was there and I couldn't stop him."
When I grabbed his fingers, he startled, but he didn't pull back.
"How could you possibly help?" I signed with one hand. "He was twice your size."
Florian's gaze lingered on mine before he looked away. "I could have tried harder."
"Well, I don't know how you remember what happened exactly, but he was bigger than you and me combined. So, no, you wouldn't have been able to take him down by yourself."
When he didn't reply, I added, "It wasn't your fault."
