Romeo for Real

by Markus Harwood-Jones

  “Well, it was just . . .” Rome stumbled over his explanation. “I just needed someone to talk to.”

  “Look, I get it,” Rose offered. “My parents didn’t exactly take it very well. They’re still calling Lyla my ‘roommate.’” She rolled her eyes at the very thought.

  “Still,” Lyla added, “if you plan to go around kissing mysterious men at parties . . . well, you might want to consider what to do when people find out, rather than if.”

  Rose took the pamphlet off the table and pushed it into Rome’s hands. “Just take the damn thing, Romie! You might want to get to know your community. It’s a pretty fabulous one!”

  “Could you not say things like that?” Rome shot her a look as he shoved the paper deep into his pocket.

  “Things like what?” Rose asked smugly.

  “You know . . .” Rome looked away. “Like, ‘fabulous’ or whatever,” he grumbled.

  He didn’t want to be that kind of gay guy. Of course, what other kind was there? He felt confused again, and his head started pounding. He drank the rest of his lukewarm coffee in a single gulp. But it didn’t help. “I don’t — I’m not like that. Even if I’m gay, or something.”

  “Oh, sweet baby-queer.” Lyla shook her head. “Not all gay men prance around in leotards and feather boas. Though, I’ve seen it done.” She chuckled. “It’s just like how not all lesbians wear plaid and ride motorbikes.”

  Rose smirked. “I was thinking of getting a motorized scooter.”

  Lyla and Rose shared a giggle. Rome just crossed his arms. Eventually, Lyla turned back to Rome and said, “It’s all about pride in who you are, not acting out some script.”

  “I guess so.” Rome shrugged.

  Rose grinned. “And if you do want a boa or some glitter, I can hook you up!”

  Rome smiled weakly. “Thanks. I mean, no thanks on the boa and all. But thanks.” He pulled the pamphlet back out and uncrumpled it. He looked at the list of cafés, walk-in clinics, and small businesses. “So, now what?”

  Rose just shrugged. Lyla said simply, “Welcome to the team.”

  06

  Reconnection

  The Orchard bookstore had rainbows everywhere, mixed in with many other flags Rome didn’t recognize. One was purple, green, and yellow. One faded from pink to blue. Several had symbols as strange to him as ancient runes. Rome read the pamphlet again, confirming the address. But there was no doubt this was the place. Maybe I shouldn’t have come, he thought, biting his lip.

  Rome wandered through the shelves. He browsed each section like he was on an archaeological dig. He scanned the titles with guilty fascination. There were so many books. They were squeezed on the shelves in such a way that he worried pulling on one would make the ones beside it explode out with it. Many were simply piled on the floor or sitting on their sides on top of other shelves. Once or twice he had to catch himself from bumping into things and tipping over several of the small stacks.

  Rome carefully avoided sections with names like Lesbian Erotics, Queer Spirituality, and Trans Lit. He moved toward the more familiar. In Classic Fiction (where the ‘i’s were dotted with little pink hearts), he found a copy of Frankenstein. When he opened it, he found it was a retelling of the original, made to be about politically radical transsexuals. He put the book down on top of a rather high stack and moved on to gaze over more titles.

  Voices floated over from the other side of the shelf and Rome couldn’t help but eavesdrop. Here were some real gays, in their natural element. He felt like a wildlife researcher. Listening through the stacks, Rome caught hints of conversation, giggling, and teasing. They almost sound like me, Marty, and Ben, he thought. As the group grew quiet, Rome began to worry they would leave before he could catch a glimpse. Unable to find a peephole, he decided to make his own.

  Rome picked up a novel and set it on top of a nearby stack. He removed another after that, and continued removing books one by one. He tried not to be noticed. The shopkeeper was busy talking to someone and barely glanced in his direction, but Rome kept an eye out, just in case. Finally, when he had cleared his side of the shelf, he ducked down for a look. But he found himself face to face with more books, this time with the spines pointed away from him. Of course! He slapped his own forehead at his short-sighted thinking.

  Then Rome heard a voice. What was that? He could swear someone was saying his name! Urgently, he tried to pull one of the books from the other side of the shelf. He pinched at the paper with his forefingers, but he only managed to push the books over. They fell with a handful of soft thumps. Rome ducked down before he could even glance through the opening. There were light treads, footsteps approaching the other side of the shelf. Someone had noticed him. He peered up to see a familiar face.

  “You!” Rome exclaimed at the same time as the familiar stranger. Rome felt his face turn red. He wondered if he’d been hit on the head and had slipped into a very vivid dream. The mystery boy was here, right in front of him! Rome looked down quickly, shoving his sweaty palms into his pockets. What were the chances? What should he even say? What if he doesn’t like me? What if he does like me?!

  The boy took a step closer and said, “Romeo, that’s you, isn’t it?”

  Worried thoughts flitted through Rome’s mind while he stumbled over a few words, “I, um — it’s, um —”

  The stranger placed his hand on the edge of the shelf and peered through. “I’m Julian,” he said. “Julian Capulet.”

  Rome glanced up shyly. He noticed a bright splash of yellow across Julian’s forefingers. It seemed to grow and take over his whole view. “What needed yellow?” Rome asked.

  “Hm?” Julian replied, clearly puzzled. Then he followed Rome’s eyes to his hands. “I was just doing a little painting. Guess I didn’t wash it all off.”

  Rome grinned, picturing Julian with a paintbrush behind his ear. Too cute!

  “I’d love to see your art one day,” Rome said. He cautiously put his own hand on the edge of his side of the shelf. He pushed it slowly toward Julian’s. A tingling sensation ran through his fingertips as they softly brushed against each other. It was like he’d connected a circuit. The air was charged, like just before a rainfall.

  Rome felt sweat begin to drip down the back of his neck. This was too much. What were the chances of running into this guy twice? It had to be fate.

  He leaned into the tiny space between the books. There was just enough room for them to whisper. “Would you mind if I tested something?” he asked quietly.

  Julian simply nodded.

  Rome confessed, “I sort of haven’t really — I haven’t felt the way I felt when we . . .” He paused, trying to find the words. “I guess, I want to be sure.”

  Julian moved forward, pushing a few books off the shelf along the way. He pressed his lips against Rome’s. The tingling between them became an all-out electrical storm. Rome let himself get swept away.

  “Hey, you two!” called the shopkeeper from the front. “Not in the books, would ya?”

  “Hey, is that you, Julian? Who you got there?” another voice called out. Footfalls came from the back. Someone was coming to see what was happening.

  Julian looked away and Rome began breathing rapidly. His heart was pounding in his chest.

  Was this real? Was this really happening? Rome began to panic. He was in a gay bookstore, with a gay boy, who he had been kissing and wanted to kiss again. And more gay people were coming to talk to them about things he could only assume would also be gay.

  I don’t want to just run away again, he thought. But he had to get out of there. Rome shot a nervous look to Julian. Amazingly, the other boy seemed to understand.

  The two moved quickly to the end of the shelf. They ran out of The Orchard, hand in hand.

  07

  Getting Real

  The sun was setting as Julian pulled Rome along the bustling Osb
orne Street strip. They raced by busy bars, loud music, neon signs. Turning sharply, they worked their way through the park outside the government buildings, and then beyond into the downtown core. They passed a couple of places with big rainbow signs. Rome thought they must be straight-up (or gay-up?) sex clubs.

  He marvelled at how nice it felt to hold someone’s hand. Julian’s grip was soft and strong, all at once. If Ben, or even Marty, saw me right now, I’d never live it down, Rome thought. But he didn’t let go.

  The Hungry Rhino sat in the centre of the Exchange District. It was marked by an overhanging sign in the shape of a rhinoceros.

  Julian brought Rome to a table near the back, pointing out the menu scrawled on the wall in chalk. “This is one of my favourite restaurants!” Julian burst out. Once the silence was broken, he started talking fast, going on about the food, the commune-style staff system at the restaurant, and half-a-million other things Rome didn’t quite catch.

  Rome looked over the menu. Everything seemed to be organic, local, and full-on vegetarian. He narrowed his eyes at a food option titled the “B”LT. Fiddling with his class ring, Rome realized that this area seemed to live up to all the horror stories his parents had warned him about. Sex clubs, communists, fake meats? What have I gotten myself into?

  Rome glanced up and took in Julian for a moment. This all felt surreal, like sitting down to dinner with a daydream. He looked at Julian’s hand on the table and had an impulse to just reach out and take it. But he pulled back, unsure. Rome traced his fingers around the edge of his class ring and then down to the scar on his left hand, wondering what he could say.

  Finally, Julian said, “Well, I’m gonna get the tofu strips. Want me to order for both of us?”

  Rome nodded. “Sure. I’ll have, uh, whatever you think is good.”

  Rome peeked at Julian’s backside as he walked away. Damn, he thought. Then he looked down, blushing, feeling sinful.

  After ordering, Julian hopped back into his seat and looked at Rome expectantly.

  I might as well just go for it, Rome figured. But where to start? He didn’t want to give Julian the wrong impression. But what was the right one anyway? Rome shook his head, tired of getting stuck in his thoughts. “I’m not exactly . . . out,” he said at last. Julian seemed to understand, and, just like that, Rome felt lighter.

  He decided it would be easier to focus the conversation on Julian. He asked him question after question. When did he figure himself out? How did it go with his parents? And what about at school? With every answer, Rome found he could listen and respond easily, exploring every little tangent. As he found out more about Julian, Rome only became more excited to get to know him better.

  Julian really seemed to come from another world. His mom was bisexual. What kind of luck was that! Plus, his cousin was a guy who liked dating guys, too. Clearly, Julian had never had to worry about ‘coming out’ or weirdness like that. “That’s so cool,” Rome said, with a hint of jealousy. But his envy melted when he learned about Julian’s high-school years.

  “I just could never really fit in.” Julian dipped his tofu strips into some sweet brown sauce. “With a mom like mine, I never had a chance!” He said the words with a laugh, but they didn’t sound very funny.

  “So what’d you do?” Rome asked. He cautiously picked at his own meal. It definitely didn’t look like real meat. But, then, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting.

  “Tried to hang back, mostly,” Julian replied. He wasn’t looking Rome in the eye anymore. “Mom — she’s always been the type to step out and face any big fight. Honestly, sometimes it can be a bit much.” Julian studied the table. “I tried to balance her out, I guess. I’m not really the fighter type. Not like her.”

  “What about your cousin?” Rome asked. “You said he’s . . . well, is he like your mom, too? Front of the fight and all that?”

  Julian shrugged. “I don’t know. Not really, I don’t think. He wasn’t when I knew him. But it’s been a while. We haven’t really talked much since he got out of corrections.”

  Rome wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he changed the subject. “So, uh, you’re done school now?”

  Julian shrugged. “Well . . . I kinda . . . dropped out.”

  Rome’s eyes went wide. “But, Julian, you’re so smart!”

  “It’s not like I wanted to,” Julian replied. His voice was a little stern. Then he sighed, softening again. He looked back at Rome at last. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. People used to say all kinds of shit about me, about my mom, and . . . well, anyway, they didn’t make it easy for me.”

  Rome bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”

  “It happens,” Julian answered. “I’m doing online stuff now, trying to get my last credit.”

  Rome nodded. “Wow . . . even after all that, you’re still trying to finish. That’s pretty cool. Kinda really brave, actually.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d do if I had to deal with half that stuff.”

  “You’re about to graduate, right?” Julian asked. “You never had any trouble?”

  Rome shook his head. “It’s been all right. Being on the team helps a lot.” He motioned to the flaming basketball emblazoned on his jacket. “No shortage of friends.”

  “Sounds like a dream.” Julian raised an eyebrow. Rome couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic.

  “I guess . . .” With a sigh, Rome admitted, “I mean, no one gives me trouble, so long as I don’t let them down.” Looking around the restaurant, at all the weird looking people and funky food, he felt a little jealous again. “Sometimes, it makes it hard. I just want so bad to be normal, to do all the stuff people expect of me. But I gotta wonder, what it would be like if I could just be . . . me, you know? God, that’s cheesy. I’m sorry.”

  “No,” Julian replied. He rested his hand on Rome’s. “That’s real.”

  Talk with Julian flowed easily. They even navigated over the rocky bits. Julian knew so much about everything. It was like being on a date with a dictionary. But, like, a sexy dictionary, thought Rome with a bit of a smirk.

  Being with Julian was cool, like hanging out with a friend and going on a date at the same time. It reminded Rome a bit of being with Rosie, back when they would hang for hours on end and just talk, goofing around enough that he could really let his walls down and just be, without overthinking it. Of course, with Rosie, there was the weirdness that she was a girl, and so everyone figured they were dating. Meanwhile, the weirdness with Julian was that he wasn’t a girl. And yet Rome couldn’t take his eyes off him.

  After Rome picked up the bill, they stepped outside. It was cooler now, and Julian asked if they could snuggle for warmth. Rome welcomed him closer, wrapping his jacket around the two of them. He was sore at the very thought of letting go. “I guess this is goodbye?”

  Julian asked, with a timid grin, “Why don’t you just come over to my place?”

  08

  Weird and Wonderful

  Rome followed the twisting colours as they traced the outline of a city, spattered with bright lights and swirling stars above, a moon on one side and a sun on the other. Rome turned to Julian in amazement. “Did you make that?”

  “Mostly it was my mom,” Julian replied, shrugging, as if the incredible mural on the side of his house was nothing special. He opened the front door and stepped inside. Inhaling sharply, Rome glanced over the painting one more time before pushing himself across the threshold.

  The house was old, full of what some might lovingly call character. A voice in Rome’s mind, which sounded oddly like his mother’s, started criticizing the place, but he pushed away those thoughts. He tried to keep an open mind as he took in the scuff marks on the hardwood floor and dents in the walls. All the furniture seemed to be different colours and styles, a few held together with duct tape or stitches. There were shelves leaning heavy with jars of herbs and preserves. On the
walls there were more murals, like the one outside. Some of them stretched up to the ceilings, filled with rainbows, pentacles, dancing naked bodies. Julian had said his mom was . . . different.

  “Is that my boy?!” a booming voice called out.

  “Mom! You’re home!” Julian shouted with joy as he ran forward to be scooped up into a hug.

  This is his mom? Rome raised his eyebrows. The woman was loud, bright, and had a frame that took up much of the hallway. She had a broad smile that lit up, along with her sparkling eyes, as she lifted her son into the air and squeezed him joyfully. Her bright violet hair had salt-and-pepper roots poking through, and was cut so short Rome might have mistaken her for a man if he saw her from behind. In comparison, Julian seemed small, muted, and even frail.

  As the woman let Julian go, her sharp eyes glanced Rome over just a moment. Julian stepped back, motioning to Rome. “Mom, this is Romeo,” he said. “I’m having him over tonight.” Rome blushed and quickly looked down at his shoes. Hearing Julian call him ‘Romeo’ felt intimate, like a touch on the back of his neck. Remembering his manners, Rome gave a polite wave to Julian’s mother. She gave a curt nod in response.

  Rome followed the pair deeper into the strange house. Julian and his mother caught up, and Rome began to notice their similarities — the way they both talked with their hands, the similar intonation in their voices. They even had the same dimples when they smiled! The more he watched, the more alike they became.

  Rome had so much he wanted to know. What was it like to be bi, and be a mom? He’d never even heard of that being possible! Did she really date girls and guys? Did she ever do it at the same time? Did she try to bring them home? Rome burned with questions, but there didn’t seem to be any right time to ask anything. Julian and his mother were already talking back and forth, not even pausing as she leaned over to pull something from the oven.

  Julian reached out, grabbing at the food. His mother pulled the tray of brownies away before he could sneak a bite. “These are hot!” she warned. “Besides, they’re not for you. Not unless you plan on showing up tomorrow night. We’ve got a lot to do before Saturday. We’re doing another demo, this time even bigger! We could really use you at the planning meeting.”