by Rowan Shaw
"Florian? Is that you?" my friend Raphaël asked when he caught me wandering the streets of Nancy without a purpose or direction.
Two weeks I'd been living here. It was abnormally hot out for the middle of September. I was dehydrated and dizzy, but I had no money left to buy water. I had one backpack with me and that was all. My clothes were dirty, but I had no good way of washing them.
I'd considered using the sink in the mall's bathroom to clean my underwear and shirts, but it required money to enter the bathroom. One euro each time I needed to pee or take a shit. The one time I'd gone there to wash my armpits, the lady guarding the entrance had no qualm about entering the men's room to kick me out. "Mall customers don't pay to find themselves face to face with some druggie," she'd said.
That was typical. Because I lived on the streets, people assumed I did drugs. It never crossed their minds that my parents may have kicked me out.
It'd been two weeks since my family found out about Enzo and me. Two weeks since my dad told me to pack my stuff, then led me to the car and drove me to downtown Nancy, where he dropped me off. He didn't want anyone in our small village to find out I was queer.
"Florian, can you imagine what people would say?" he'd asked before leaving me on the curb near Rue Saint-Dizier without a single look back.
It'd been two weeks since I'd last taken a shower.
Two weeks since I'd tried looking for a homeless shelter, got freaked out by some of the people there, and ran to take my chances on the streets.
Before my parents kicked me out, I had tried to explain to them that Enzo and I never had sex. I'd conveniently left out the part involving blowjobs, of course. But they didn't seem to care either way. I couldn't have feelings for a boy. Period. There would be no gays in the family.
I'd tried to explain I was bisexual, but that backfired on me big time. Being straight was apparently "normal" and expected. Being gay was an abomination. But bi? What the hell was that, even? Some sexuality I had invented to make my parents' lives difficult, obviously.
"Why would you need both a girl and a boy in your life, Florian?" my mom screeched. "I don't understand where your father and I went wrong. We raised you the best we could, and we taught you better."
I tried to explain I didn't need both at the same time, but they didn't listen. Even though I couldn't help how I felt. I hadn't chosen to be this way. It had nothing to do with the way I was raised. But my parents said I had to be straight or leave. I was foolish enough to think Enzo and I still stood a chance, so I chose him. But when I called his family to ask how he was, they said he didn't want to see me anymore either.
"Hey," Raphaël called for my attention. "What's going on, man? You don't look too good. What are you doing out here on your own? You weren't at school last week."
I coughed, feeling chills even in this heat, then forced myself to look at him. I was pretty sure I stunk like a damn skunk.
"Are you okay?" he asked, wrinkling his nose, probably at my funk.
I shrugged and tried to walk away, but he caught up with me. I felt so much self-hatred and anger. How could my own parents disown me and kick me out? Why did Enzo refuse to answer my calls? Was he blaming me for the attack too?
Raphaël's eyes roamed my clothes before his gaze landed on my backpack. He creased his brow. "Florian, what's going on?"
"My parents kicked me out." I still wouldn't look at him.
He grabbed my shoulders and forced me to face him, so I let myself take in the full shock on his face. His forehead was pearling with sweat, his spotless bronze skin contrasting with his pale hazel eyes. He was exactly my height, but larger than me. He had a reputation at our school for being as athletic as he was smart. While the rest of us booknerds hated the gym, Raphaël was as assiduous in his studies as he was on the field. He played soccer too and was pretty damn good at it.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Did you hear what happened to Enzo?"
Raphaël nodded. "The word spread all around school on the first day, and then you guys didn't come back to class."
"Enzo hasn't returned to class either?" I croaked, swallowing hard. Was he in that bad of condition?
My heart began to race. Raphaël looked at me for a few seconds without a word. "You don't know?"
I froze. "Know what?"
The muscles of his cheeks jerked. "Enzo lost his hearing. He won't be returning to school for a while."
"What?" My mouth fell slack like he'd punched me in the guts. My lungs squeezed so hard, I couldn't breathe. "I don't understand."
"It's all hearsay, but apparently, Enzo is deaf in both ears."
I was going to throw up. Enzo had lost his ability to hear? Suddenly, all the self-pity I'd been feeling exploded and morphed into a ball of pure rage. That bastard hurt Enzo so badly, he'd injured him irrevocably. I balled my fists, angry at myself for feeling so miserable while my boyfriend was going through such a rough patch. No wonder he couldn't communicate with me. He couldn't even talk on the phone.
"Did they catch the guy?" I didn't know why I was asking. I knew they didn't. I'd left a testimony, but I could tell the police were less than convinced that it was a hate crime.
Raphaël shook his head. "Not based on what I've heard. Apparently, Enzo is gonna need an implant of some kind. I'm not sure of the details."
"I should drop by his house," I muttered. "See for myself how he's doing. Make sure he knows I'm there for him. He must be terrified."
I couldn't even imagine how he felt.
Raphaël shook his head. "His parents aren't letting anyone around him right now."
"He needs to know I'm there for him," I insisted.
Raphaël didn't comment. "What about you? Where are you staying right now?"
I didn't reply.
Raphaël ran his eyes all over me again, color slowly draining from his face. "You've been living on the streets?"
When I didn't respond, he beckoned me forward with a jerk of his chin. "Come on, I'm not leaving you out here like this."
"Where d'you think I can go, man?"
"My place, duh!" he replied, grabbing my backpack.
"What about your parents?"
"My mom hates homophobic jerks, first of all. My dad, well..." Raphaël let out a heavy sigh. "It took him a little while to accept that I'm queer, but he's pretty cool with it now, I think. He won't have a problem with you."
He winked at me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders even though I smelled like garbage.
"My parents probably love you more than they love me," he joked. "I doubt they'll be happy to learn you've been kicked out and living on the streets. How long has it been, anyway?"
"Two weeks." A rough cough tore out of my throat while my stomach grumbled.
I wasn't sure what he meant about his parents loving me more than him, though. Granted, Raphaël was a good friend, but he wasn't the one I hung out with the most. I didn't even know he was queer for fuck's sake. What in the world was going on?
"You should hear my mom, man," he laughed. "'Florian this, and Florian that...And how is Florian doing? And when is Florian coming over?' She loves you."
"Liar," I chuckled.
"You'll see. I'm not making this shit up."
He led me to the tramway, where we sat on a bench to wait.
Chapter 22
ENZO - NOW
"How could you not tell me he had called?" I signed at my sister, scrunching my face.
She seemed annoyed I'd conveniently forgotten my processor at home, but I couldn't be bothered to care. This wasn't some random conversation I wanted to have with spoken lies scattered in between. I wanted my senses alert. I wanted to read every expression on her face. I wanted the truth.
"Mom and Dad made me swear," she signed. I tried to spot a lie but couldn't find any. "I didn't want to. I promise you. I could see you were miserable, and I knew you loved him and he loved you, too. But they made me swear on their lives. I couldn't make a promise like that
and break it."
"Really? Up to this day? You had to keep that to yourself until now? You could have told me when I went to college, or I don't know, sometime. I'm an adult, for goodness' sake. Actually, I was eighteen back then. I wasn't some child to be coddled."
"I didn't think it would matter anymore. So much time has passed. I thought you were over him. I knew Dad would be upset if Florian came back into your life. I didn't want to reopen those old wounds."
"Dad?" I asked. "What about Mom?"
"Dad had more of a problem with Florian than Mom did. I think Mom only agreed because she wanted to stop all those arguments at home. I..." She looked at me for a second. "I know you couldn't hear at the time, but Mom and Dad fought a lot after the attack. Never in front of you, though. But I didn't want to add to the drama, so I complied and shut up about Florian. I'm sorry I lied to you."
I stopped in my tracks so suddenly, someone bumped into me. I apologized when I saw them grumble a curse. We were standing in front of the Saint Sébastien Shopping Center, ready to go in to find some new clothes for my sister—as if she didn't have enough already. And to think people deemed me the queen in this family.
"My decision had nothing to do with you two dating. I want to make that clear. It had nothing to do with you being gay. I would have done the same if Florian were a girl," she signed.
I still couldn't believe she had lied to me for so long.
"I think it's good Dad never found out what you two were up to under that blanket in your room, though."
I stared at her. "How did you know about that?"
She yanked the door open, and I shivered upon entering the mall. Could they possibly blast the air conditioner any higher in here? It was raining outside and wasn't even that hot. I gave another shudder and followed Adèle toward the escalator.
"The few times I came in without knocking, you pulled your hand from under the blanket so fast," she signed. "Besides, I saw my fair share of suspicious stains on your comforter. Why d'you think I never sat on your bed?"
I laughed silently. Though the mall was busy around us, I couldn't hear a single noise of its commotion or the music that was likely playing. The quiet calmed my nerves. I couldn't deal with the sensory overblast right now. I was too wired. Too angry.
"Mom never knew," I replied. "But I kind of spilled the truth today when she made me mad."
"Oh boy, what did you do? Mom thinks you're a perfect little angel. She'd never believe you could do the deed under her roof."
"Well, now she knows. Although, we never did the deed."
Adèle raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Nope."
She shrugged as if it didn't matter either way.
"Did you and Eric do it? At the house?" I asked about her ex from high school.
She didn't reply, but her tiny grin said it all.
"Noooo!" I exclaimed then signed, "When?"
Her mouth widened into a silent laugh. "Every time he came to visit."
"Wow."
She waved it off, though her gaze filled with threats. "Tell our parents about that and see what happens."
"My lips are sealed." I zipped my mouth shut as Adèle led me into her favorite boutique.
"So why were you asking about Florian?"
"You promise you won't tell the parents?" I signed.
"No, I'm not promising anything when I don't know what it entails. That's what got me into this mess with you to begin with." She headed to the women's area and grabbed a few shirts, then checked in the mirror to see how the color looked on her. When I didn't say anything, she gestured, "Fine. I won't tell a fly. So why are you bringing this up now?"
"I'm seeing Florian again."
Her entire body froze, her head whiplashing toward me. "You're kidding, right?"
"I ran into him at that new club downtown."
She put the shirts back down without bothering to fold them properly and stared at me. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Because he's the one who got you in trouble. Remember?"
My nostrils twitched. "Why is everyone saying that? We were both there. I kissed him. Me. I started it."
Adèle's lips thinned. She moved on to the next aisle. "You're dating him again?"
"It's not like that. I mean, I don't know. We're not dating. But you can't tell Mom and Dad. Not if that's how they're going to be toward him."
She clicked her tongue. "You're an adult, Enzo. You're allowed to see whoever you want. Plus, if you date him, I don't see how you'll be able to hide him from our family."
Ugh! I hadn't thought of that. Well, that wasn't a problem. It wasn't as if anything was going on between Florian and me. Granted, I was still attracted to him, but that didn't mean I had to jump his bones or tie the knot or anything. I could control myself. Definitely. Not that Florian was willing to date anyone after what Marlène had done to him anyway.
Chapter 23
FLORIAN - SIX MONTHS EARLIER
"I'm afraid the results aren't the best," the doctor said, looking from me to Marlène.
"Okay," I replied, facing him from across the large black desk. I tried to take the news in stride and grabbed Marlène's warm hand in mine, squeezing it to comfort her.
"Which one of us is it?" she asked. Like it mattered who had the issue. We were in this together, weren't we?
The doctor gave her a look before his eyes geared toward me. I swallowed hard. Fuck!
The doctor focused his attention back on her. "Your eggs are in perfect shape, and your uterus offers a welcoming environment."
A sigh of relief seeped out of her lips while my guts clenched.
"I'm afraid your sperm count is very low, Florian. That would explain your difficulty to conceive. However, it doesn't mean it's an impossibility."
Marlène slipped her hand out of mine, her rejection gutting me. I tried not to show how much it stung. I'd felt the gap widening between us for months now, but this could very well be the last push over the cliff.
I glanced at her, but I couldn't read her expression. Her face was closed off, keeping me out.
"Are you saying I am the problem?" I asked the doctor.
"I wouldn't phrase it that way. There are many—"
"How can we fix him?" Marlène asked.
I turned my head toward her but didn't react more than that. Before I could even say anything, she added, "Is it because he's queer?"
The doctor gave a small pause and flashed me a quick glance before he narrowed his eyes and cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I understand the question."
"Is his sperm not good enough because he's not straight?"
"Marlène!" What the fuck?!
Right then, the doctor seemed to lose all compassion for her. "A person's orientation has nothing to do with their ability to reproduce. Plenty of men come here to give their sperm. Some are straight; some are gay."
His gaze flicked swiftly between the two of us. I wanted to walk out of here. Marlène had just outed me to a stranger. She knew how I felt about that. She knew I wasn't out to many people. She knew about my past with my family and the reasons I kept my bisexuality a secret. I had explained to her exactly why. I thought I'd made myself clear.
"I would like to run some other tests. There are different options if you'd like to try them out, and—"
Marlène raised her hand to cut him off. "I don't see the point. I'm not going through all the ordeal only because he's not man enough to produce good sperm."
I sat there, flabbergasted. Tears burned behind my eyes that I blinked away fast so she couldn't tell how she was fucking ruining me. It seemed the words were blows to the doctor as well because he took a long moment to reply. He looked at me, then at Marlène and then at me again.
"Florian, I would like to discuss certain things with you. I understand this news can be difficult for a person to take, and I would like to recommend someone for you to talk to."
I nodded reluctantly. I had no desire to see a
counselor if that was where he was going with his little speech. I had nothing against shrinks, but I didn't want to come out to yet another person this month.
The doctor stared at Marlène pointedly. "I would like to talk to Florian alone."
Marlène raised her chin. "There is nothing that can't be said in front of me."
She stared at me as if waiting for me to confirm her words, but I could barely look at her right now. Her reaction had sucked the air right out of my lungs.
"I see," she snapped, her lips curling in disapproval before she grabbed her purse and left, her back ramrod-straight as she sashayed toward the door. When she slammed it on her way out, I apologized to the doctor for her attitude.
"I wanted to reassure you that this has nothing to do with your orientation," he said. "I'm sure you know that already, but I wanted to make it clear. Actually, it is not your fault at all. And in no way does it affect your masculinity. I have a family member with the same condition, and today he has a beautiful baby girl of his own. There are options." He took a deep breath. "After what I just witnessed, I am concerned about your well-being, though. I think you should talk to someone. Alone or as a couple."
He pushed a business card over his desk. "Docteur Garnier is an excellent psychologist. She specializes in couples, families, as well as infertility, or loss of a child. I would like you to go see her."
I narrowed my eyes. "You think I really need to?"
The last thing I wanted was to add another weapon to Marlène's arsenal. She would see me talking to a shrink as yet more proof I needed to be fixed. I knew she would tear me apart if I saw a professional. I didn't like all the stigma she forced on counseling. I disagreed with her views, but her beliefs were strong enough that I'd never hear the end of it if I sought help.
"I think there may be issues between you two that need to be worked through,” the doctor insisted.
I grabbed the business card. "I'll call her."
That was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.
The doctor gave me a smile, then stood from his large chair. "Good. Do you know how you would like to proceed from here?"
I shook my head. "I doubt Marlène will want to try anything else. From her point of view, this is my issue to fix. I can't imagine she'd be willing to go through an insemination or any more tests."
