Romeo for Real

by Markus Harwood-Jones

  A demo? Even more questions came to Rome. Like a demolition? Or maybe a demonstration? But of what?

  “We’ll see,” replied Julian. He was clearly not that enthused.

  His mother laughed and prodded him. “I’ll get you one of these days — you’ll see. By the time you’re my age, you’ll be the one bringing on the revolution, while I put my feet up at home!”

  Rome’s eyes went wide. Julian really hadn’t been kidding. His mom was something else! It was kind of scary, but also kind of cool.

  Julian’s mother glanced at Rome for just a moment again. Then she gestured at the dishes in the sink. “Now, Jules, would you and your friend be dears and wash these for me?”

  Julian passed a cloth in Rome’s direction. Rome guessed he was being put on drying duty. With a short lull in the conversation, Rome figured now was as good a time as any to jump in. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Capulet,” he said politely.

  “Is it?” the woman replied, as she pulled off her oven mitts. Rome shot a nervous look at Julian. Had he said something wrong already?

  After letting Rome worry for a bit, Julian’s mother relented. “You can call me Angie. Angie Liang.”

  “Uh, okay, Angie,” Rome said. He felt a bit weird calling a parent by a first name. But it was clear by now that Angie wasn’t like most parents he knew. And he liked that about her.

  Angie was different, there was no doubt. She was funny, for starters, and acted more like a friend than a mom. Though Rome could see she had no problem putting Julian in his place when she had to. It was cool to watch them interact. Rome could see little bits of Julian poking through Angie. Or was it the other way around?

  Once the dishes were done, Julian led Rome up to his bedroom. I can’t believe his mom just lets him bring guys home to sleep over! How awesome was that?

  On their way upstairs, Julian’s mom called behind them, “You know where the condom jar is!”

  Romeo felt a bolt of shock as he processed what Angie had said. “The condom jar?” he whispered to Julian.

  “Mom’s a very sex-positive feminist,” Julian replied, as if this was something that required no more explanation.

  The door to Julian’s bedroom matched the rest of the house. It was covered with drawings, stickers, and posters. But inside, the art that covered Julian’s room had its own distinct style. Rome looked around and took in the canvases stacked everywhere. A few were still on easels, more on the floor, others peeking out from under clothes, or stacked in the closet. All were covered in colours that flowed and burst out, a medley of waterfalls and supernovas. Looking around in awe, Rome announced, “This is wonderful.”

  09

  Stories and Scars

  A shiver ran through Rome’s body. Julian was close to him now, and they were finally, really, alone. What happens now? Rome wondered.

  Once they had the courage to touch, it was only moments before they were running their hands over each other. Rome was breathing heavily. More shivers ran up his spine as his fingertips traced Julian’s jawline.

  When it got to be too much, both found that words came easily and helped bring down the tension. Julian told Rome about everything from colour gradients to the reason the sky was blue. Rome was sure he could listen to that voice forever.

  “So, what did Angie mean?” asked Rome. “All that talk about ‘demos’ and ‘revolution’?”

  Julian chuckled. “That’s her politics. She’s always got some new project on the go.” His voice was distant. “She tries to get me involved but . . . I don’t know . . .”

  “You don’t want to save the world?” Rome asked with a smile. Julian didn’t answer. “Hey,” Rome said, gently squeezing Julian’s hand. “I was just kidding.”

  “I know. It’s just . . . It can be a lot of pressure, being her kid. I don’t know if I could ever do everything she’s able to do.” Julian sighed, pulling his fingers through Rome’s hair. “I don’t want to let her down. I really want to do the right thing . . . But I just don’t know if I can.”

  “I get that,” Rome replied. He ran his hand along Julian’s side. “Well, sort of. I mean, my folks expect a lot of me, too. Everybody does, really. The team, my teachers, even guys like Marty and Ben. But sometimes, I don’t think they get me at all, not really. All they see is what they want to see.” He sighed, rubbing the scar on his left hand. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just made of secrets.”

  Julian’s eyes followed Rome’s fingers along the mark. “How’d you get that?”

  Rome bit his lip. He’d never told anyone that story — not seriously, anyway. Sometimes he’d joke about it with Marty and Ben. Most people didn’t ask. But, he thought, Julian’s not most people.

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” Julian said, pulling back.

  Rome offered his palm to Julian, showing him the complete line. “My dad can be kind of a scary guy.”

  Julian reached out to trace along the scar’s edge. Rome shuddered. He’d never let anyone touch it like that before. “Did he do this to you?” Julian asked softly.

  “Not exactly,” Rome sighed. He closed his eyes and rolled to rest his head on Julian’s lap. “I mean, I don’t even really remember. He was just upset about, I don’t know, something. There was a lot of shouting, and something broke. A plate, I think? Somehow, my hand got cut.”

  “Was your mom there?” Julian asked.

  Rome nodded. “Yeah, she was just . . . cold. Like, quiet. Didn’t say a word to him. Or to me.” As the memory came back, Rome gulped. He didn’t want to cry in front of Julian. “I just ran away.”

  Julian’s fingers fell back into Rome’s hair. Rome figured he might as well finish the story. “God, I haven’t thought about it in a while. I was, maybe twelve? Not even? We had just moved to the neighbourhood. And so, after it happened, I ran off. Made it out to one of those little lakes around there, near the golf course. Marty and Ben were there, playing around. That’s kinda how we met.” Rome chuckled. “All I wanted to do was goof around with them, even though I was all bloody and shit!” He looked up to see Julian listening intently.

  “They tried to help,” Rome explained. “Ben said we could live out there for days if we had to. Marty tried to act like he knew how to take care of a cut. And I just hid out there for hours. When I got back, my mom saw me all muddy, and she just flipped! Got me a phone that year, too. She swore she’d never lose track of me again . . .” He trailed off. He hadn’t called her yet to check in.

  Julian took Rome’s hand and gently kissed the scar. “I’m sorry that happened, Romeo.”

  Rome flushed. “It’s kind of cool. Marty and Ben and me, we’ve been friends ever since. Must have been fate, right? Besides, my dad hasn’t been like that since then, either. I think Mom made him go to counselling or something. We never really talk about it. Now, whenever shit gets tense, they just drink until they calm down.”

  Julian was quiet for a while. Rome was starting to have second thoughts about sharing that story when, finally, Julian stood up. He moved to turn off the light.

  Julian’s voice was distant again as he started to undo his jeans. “You shared your scars with me.”

  Rome’s mind began to race and his hands started to shake. “I’ve never . . .”

  When Julian exposed his upper thigh, Rome realized there were thin scars along his leg and one long gash, like a lighting strike. Julian didn’t look up as he took Rome’s hand and placed it on his thigh. Rome ran his fingers over the raised skin.

  Julian told Rome his story — the bullying at school, the long, lonely nights, the pain it took to just keep going. Julian cut himself to stay alive. And then he cut again and again, when he felt like he couldn’t keep going anymore. “I just wanted to die,” Julian whispered.

  Rome wasn’t sure what to say. He’d heard about people cutting, but this was Julian. He didn’t want to think of Julia
n hurting that bad. But it wasn’t like Rome was a stranger to self-harm. When things got to be too much, he turned to smoking and drinking to feel that burning rush, basking in the emptiness that followed. Just like his parents. Rome pulled Julian back down to the bed and held him. His arms wrapped around the Julian’s soft stomach, Rome breathed into his hair, “I’m glad you kept going. I’m glad you’re here now.”

  10

  The New Normal

  “No call, no text? Romeo, how many times do I have to ask —”

  “I’m fine, Mom, I’m fine!” Rome protested. He tried to keep his voice quiet as Julian groggily woke next to him.

  “I was concerned about you, Romeo. What if you had been hurt? How would I have known?”

  Rome rolled his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t —” Before he could finish, Rome felt fingertips brush against his back. It made his hair stand on end.

  “Well?” his mother demanded. She was clearly unimpressed.

  Rome had to think of a lie, and quick. He doubted his mother would approve of him going across town to spend the night with someone he’d just met. And a boy, no less. “I, uh, I was too tired. So I just crashed. At Marty’s.” Rome paused for a moment to smile at Julian, his sweet little secret. “You worry too much.”

  “And when will you be home?” she asked, agitated.

  Julian leaned in and began to tease his lips gently along Rome’s neckline.

  “I’m just gonna sleep more. And then I have some —” Rome faltered. He shuddered as Julian kissed his neck. “I-I-I have some errands to run. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Maybe ten tonight?”

  “Ten?!” Her voice hardened. “Romeo Montague, if you are not home for dinner, I will not hesitate to —”

  “Okay! Okay!” Rome relented. He couldn’t concentrate enough to fight both his mother and Julian. “I’ll be home for dinner! God!”

  Rome could practically hear his mother stiffen. She hated it when he ‘used the Lord’s name in vain.’ Her reply was sharp. “All right. Dinner, then.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.” Rome moved to hang up.

  “And?” she asked expectantly. “Isn’t there something you want to say to me?”

  “Mom,” he grumbled.

  “I love you, Romeo.”

  “Yeah of course,” he answered. “You too.” Still, he knew that wasn’t enough. She would make him say it before she let him off the hook.

  “You what?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to say it. I’m in front of the guys!” Rome felt himself turning red. He saw Julian suppress a giggle.

  “What if this is the last time I speak to you, Romeo? I could be dead before you even get home. Or you could —”

  “Okay, okay!” Rome relented. “I love you too! Goodbye!” He ended the call before she could get in another word, just as Julian broke out laughing. “Oh my God!” Rome shouted as he pushed Julian off with a grin.

  Angie didn’t seem to be around, so they had the house to themselves. Julian whipped up some pancakes while Rome tried to help by setting the table. Everything was mismatched — the plates, the cups, even the knives and forks. The whole house was like a big art project, with Julian at the centre.

  Rome snuck up behind Julian, who was focused on flipping the pancakes. He slipped his arms around Julian’s waist. Julian kissed Rome’s cheek and inhaled deeply, murmuring something about breakfast. I thought this would be weird, thought Rome, helping Julian carry the food to the table. But it’s the most normal I’ve ever felt.

  The sun shone brightly as they went out for an afternoon wander. The warm day hinted at the beginning of a hot summer. Rome looked around at the potholes in the street, the worn-down porches, the random-looking tags on the walls. If Marty and Ben were here, Rome thought, they’d call this place sketchy.

  In Rome’s neighbourhood, it was all perfect lawns and manicured parks. All his neighbours’ dirty secrets were firmly kept behind the blank front doors. Rome shook his head and tried to see the place through Julian’s eyes instead.

  Families were out on their stoops. Kids played on the sidewalk. Stray cats sprawled out in the sunlight.

  “I think it’s beautiful here,” said Rome. And he meant it.

  They stopped to look at the community garden Julian’s mom had helped start. An older woman lifted her sunhat and said hello to them. Rome noticed she talked to Julian like he was family. Julian seemed to fit in around here but, still, Rome felt a shudder up his back when he thought about the two of them being seen together in public. When he noticed a few passers-by giving them side-glances, Rome’s palms began to sweat.

  He knew, ironically, it was just a couple days ago that he would have been the one giving weird looks — or worse. The face of the man who kicked him out of Rose and Lyla’s party flashed in his mind. For all Rome had told Julian, he hadn’t raised that topic yet. I’ll bring it up when the time is right, Rome told himself.

  Rome and Julian grabbed food at a diner over on the main street, picking a seat by the window where they could watch people go by. The pair never ran out of things to say to each other. Finally, as the sun sank low in the sky, turning the world pink and gold, Rome knew he had to go.

  The couple worked their way back toward Julian’s home. Rome studied Julian, blushing as he thought, He’s so incredible. Rome squeezed Julian’s hand. He just makes me feel so . . .

  Before he could finish the thought, a passing car jumped into view. It veered toward them at a frightening pace. It skidded just next to the curb, making Rome jump. For a moment, Rome’s heart raced as he thought maybe the car had lost control. Then he heard what the guys inside the car were shouting. “Eat my ass, homos!”

  Without another thought, Rome took off running. He pulled Julian along with him. Rome couldn’t stop, couldn’t listen, couldn’t do anything until he and Julian were safe. In his mind, a thought played on repeat: What if that’s someone I know?!

  When they finally stopped Rome’s hands were sweating. His head was pounding. He knew Julian was trying to calm him down, but the shame wouldn’t go away. Finally, he smacked his head, shouting, “I’m so stupid!”

  “What? Why?” Julian asked, concern in his voice.

  Rome’s heart felt like a heavy stone. He tried to answer, but the words escaped him.

  After a long silence, Julian looked down, dejected. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” said Rome, reaching out to him. “It’s my fault.” The thought that Julian blamed himself gave Rome the will to speak. “It’s just that . . . that used to be me. Pretty recently,” he confessed.

  Julian pulled away and Rome felt an ache in his chest. He hung his head and stood, saying, “I should go.”

  “So that’s it?” Julian asked.

  The hurt in Julian’s eyes broke Rome’s heart. This couldn’t be it — this couldn’t be the end! Rome shook his head, fighting off tears. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

  ***

  Rome’s heart pounded all the way back to his suburban home on the south side of town. All he could think was that he wished he was still with Julian. The houses and side streets that he’d always taken for granted now seemed unfamiliar. His clothes felt too tight and he pulled at his collar, trying to get a breath of fresh air. Sweat was building on his palms and the back of his neck.

  When Rome got home he hurried past his mother. She clearly had something on the tip of her tongue. He’d missed dinner.

  Rome curled up in his room, his trusty pop-bottle whiskey by his side. He shot a text to Rose, thanking her for brunch. Then he sent one to Julian, letting him know he’d arrived home, safe and sound. Late into the night, Rome kept his cell close. His heart raced every time he got a text back from either of them. Between messages, he started to search the corners of the internet. He was abuzz with curiosity after such an incredible couple of days. Finally, in the wee h
ours of the morning, he fell into a restless sleep, phone still in hand.

  11

  Confession

  Rome rubbed his eyes on the way to school. Bad dreams still clung to the edges of his mind. Sensing something behind him, Rome glanced over his shoulder. Nothing was there. Just the same old houses, the same old trees, the same old sidewalks, and big open sky. “Shake it off,” he told himself. But the feeling wouldn’t leave.

  It was only a matter of time until his friends found out — about him, about Julian. Rome shuddered. If he told Marty, Ben would know for sure. And if Ben knew, he’d probably tell the whole team. And if the team knew . . . It seemed like a never-ending downward spiral. Pretty soon, the whole school would hear. Word would spread to even the teachers. And then his parents. What would his mom say? God, what would his dad do?

  Rome’s stomach grumbled. He decided he needed a smoke. He rifled through his bag and found the few stray cigarettes he kept in an old mint tin, nestled with a small lighter. He lit one up before hurrying off to first period.

  Rome could barely pay attention in class. He mulled over what Lyla had said about what to do not if someone found out, but when. Maybe he should try to get ahead of this whole thing. Or at least tell someone. It was starting to feel like it might burst out of him anyway.

  Scary as it was, he was excited! He’d spent so many years playing at romance with Rosie, letting everybody believe they were in love. Now that he had really found someone, he wanted to tell everyone! Rome bit his lip, trying to hold himself back from shouting it out in the halls.

  On his morning spare, Rome ducked into the guidance counsellor’s office. He had been in a few times over the years. Sometimes it was after getting in trouble. More often it was to just talk about stuff going on with the team or at school.