Just Julian

by Markus Harwood-Jones

  04

  Osborne Afternoon

  “So, have you ever seen him around before?”

  “Never,” Julian sighed. “I’d remember him.”

  Julian’s friend Sami was leading him along familiar storefronts. The sidewalk was peppered with cigarette butts and the windows with rainbow flags. Sami mused, “A strange boy, an epic kiss, a midnight getaway! It’s all something out of a queer Cinderella!” Julian’s friend spun around, as if a fairy godmother was making a ball gown out of their overalls. “And he didn’t even leave a glass slipper,” Sami laughed.

  “Or, like, a phone number,” Julian sighed.

  “Ah, well,” Sami said to Julian. “A straight-acting jock like that? Running with those guys who messed with Paris? If he even is one of us, he’s probably still swimming in confusion and bullshit. Like, the type to tell you that bisexuals have to ‘pick a side.’ Or argue that using ‘they’ and ‘them’ pronouns for someone like me is ‘too hard’!” Sami spoke lightly. But there was a cutting tone hiding behind their smile. “Seems to me like you dodged a bullet.”

  Julian sighed. Sami was probably right. Chewing on his thumbnail, Julian wondered aloud, “Why would a guy like that even be there? Do you think he was trying to crash the party?”

  “Maybe he’s one of those no-homo homos?” Sami spoke in a mock-masculine voice, “Keeping it on the down-low?”

  Julian just shrugged.

  “What do you think?” Sami continued. “Is he the type to have a profile on a hook-up app? Maybe just a picture of his abs and a description that just says, like, masc 4 masc.”

  Sami grinned but, seeing that Julian wasn’t laughing, they quickly changed the subject. Taking Julian by the arm, Sami led him to the benches outside the liquor store where they could people-watch all those wandering by River and Osborne that afternoon. Julian tried to play along. At the very least, the strangers they surveyed might make for good artistic inspiration. There were fluorescent-haired punks pushing a baby carriage. A gaggle of older gals giggled as they made their way to the supermarket. A couple nervous-looking teenagers pushed one another toward the local sex shop, watched by a pair of queens sharing smokes outside the martini bar across the street.

  While the sights were entertaining, Julian couldn’t help but hope Romeo might make an appearance. He sighed. If Lyla was there, she’d know what to say. She’d be patient and comforting. And she’d manage to snap him out of his love-drunk funk. Sami, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the drama of it all, and all they did was turn everything into a big joke!

  Sami wiggled their eyebrows at him, trying to get his attention. “Who’s really called Romeo these days anyways?” they scoffed. “Like, okay . . . Sounds fake, but, okay.”

  “Goddess, what if it was a fake name?” Julian began to worry, biting at his nails. “Do you think it could have been some kind of prank? Who would even do that?” Burying his face in his hands, Julian groaned. “Oh, I bet he’s laughing at me right now!”

  “All right, all right!” Sami whined, putting up their hands. “Just take a breath or something!” They gave Julian a gentle shove before reaching into their bag to pull out a pack of smokes. Their thin, brown fingers placed a cigarette between their teeth, staining the edge of the filter with their lipstick. “You all right if I smoke?”

  Before Julian could answer, a familiar voice called out from behind them. “Hey there, cuties!” The greeting was followed by the sound of heels clacking against pavement.

  Sami turned and waved. “Hey, Paris!”

  Julian clenched up and bit at the edge of his thumbnail. Paris gave Sami a hug hello before she turned to Julian, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

  “Hi,” Julian said meekly.

  “What a party last night!” Paris gleefully exclaimed, winking at Julian. Sami shot a look back and forth between them while Julian shuffled his feet.

  There was a pause before Paris shrugged and announced, “Well, I’m off! Meeting up with my mom for that big march thingie.” She ran a hand over Julian’s arm and gave a squeeze, adding, “I’m looking forward to Friday.” With that, she was gone.

  “Friday?” Sami asked with a grin.

  “Yeah.” Julian groaned. “Paris asked me out. I said yes.”

  Sami’s jaw dropped, their cigarette dangling. “No! She went for it, eh? And you said yes?! Damn!” Sami’s eyes glanced back toward the direction Paris had walked in. “She’s so cool. . .” they murmured under their breath.

  “I didn’t know how to say no,” Julian sighed. He bit down hard on his thumbnail, causing a crack to form along the edge. “Maybe I should just go back to bed, forever,” he moaned.

  Before Sami could try to talk Julian out of going home, another voice called out to them. “Heya, homos!” This time it was from the other side of the street.

  Julian looked over to see a familiar face. “Looks like she’s Guyna today,” he remarked. Julian and Sami’s friend wore a touch of red lipstick, had her hair pushed forward, and sported a low-cut shirt showing off her cleavage — all signs she usually used to indicate her gender-feels for the day. Sure enough, as she drew closer, Julian could see the nametag on his friend’s work vest displaying the name ‘Guyna’ rather than ‘Guy.’

  Guyna greeted Sami with a playful punch and ruffled Julian’s hair. Julian grumbled and leaned back, trying to fix his bangs. Sami, rubbing their arm, smirked up at Guyna and said, “Hey, you, did you know there’s a little crepe hair on your chin?”

  Guyna moved a hand to her face, feeling the prickly pasted-on hair. “Guess I had a bit left over from going Guy-mode to Lyla’s party last night. Can’t believe I just worked a whole shift and no one said a thing!” She let out a cackle before turning to Julian. “I heard you had a wild night!”

  Julian glanced up, suddenly excited. Was it possible Guyna knew Romeo? Of all people, she was the one with the most connections to the hetero-flexible boys in the city. She practically made a sport of sleeping with them, especially when he was presenting as Guy!

  “Rumour is you had a run-in with one of those haters who tried to crash,” she said.

  Julian sighed — that told him enough. She’d probably never even met the guy, let alone knew how to get a hold of him. He still had no leads on that mysterious midnight man.

  Sami elbowed Julian. “Turns out that crasher’s the man of Julian’s wet dreams!”

  “No shit!” Guyna exclaimed. Then she said, with more than a glint of pride, “I tangoed with one of ’em too. The awkward one, total brace-face, clearly a little closet case. Just my type!” She let out a snort. “Started putting my moves on him. He didn’t know what hit him! I swear, I thought he was gonna turn into a puddle at my feet!” She let out a roaring laugh, clearly pleased with herself.

  Suddenly, a rumbling sound disrupted their conversation. A crowd was flowing toward them from the end of the street. They were chanting indistinct slogans and carrying picket signs. As they grew closer, Julian groaned. “Good Goddess, there’s my mom!”

  His friends started to laugh as they saw that, yes, there was Julian’s mother, holding up a big banner at the front of a growing protest march. Julian couldn’t believe he’d forgotten — his mom had been on about this for weeks. She was part of some new committee, and today she and her fellow activists were drumming up support for their cause.

  “Hey, there’s Paris!” Guyna exclaimed. Sure enough, there she was. When Paris spied the trio, she waved at them to come over and join the crowd.

  “Is that her mom?” asked Sami. They motioned to another woman who looked almost like a twin to Paris, just a few decades older.

  Julian nodded. “My mom says she works at some school out in the ’burbs. She’s the one who came up with this whole idea. She’s trying to get some class on gender and sexuality or something into all the high schools.”

  “Wow,” Sami whispered in
awe.

  “Can you imagine having a mom that cool?” Guyna added.

  Julian just shrugged. He didn’t have to imagine. In fact, he was trying not to think about it.

  Sami got up and started making their way toward the crowd. Guyna quickly followed. Julian could think of few things more uncomfortable than putting himself in a big group of people drawing the attention of bigots, cops, politicians, and press. A pang of guilt hit him in the chest, but it wasn’t strong enough to overpower the anxiety that buzzed through his body. Moving in the opposite direction, Julian yanked off his hangnail as he made his way to the bus stop.

  05

  Second Blush

  Julian tapped his feet as he looked over the bus schedule. “Why are all the buses in Winnipeg always late?” he whined, peering down the street.

  “You didn’t seriously think you could get away that easy.” Spinning around, Julian saw Sami, a smirk on their face. Guyna stood a half-step behind, with a hand on her hip.

  Julian pouted. “I just don’t like crowds.” He crossed his arms. Lyla would have known that.

  Sami shrugged. “Fair enough. Still, it was you that asked me to help get you out of the house. And since you pretty much only leave your bed, what . . .” Sami counted off a few fingers. “About once every four billion years?” They laughed. “I’m not letting you off that easy.”

  Julian sighed in defeat. He had thought that was what he wanted, a friend to get him out of his funk. But the outside world was too loud, too bright, and too dangerous.

  “I think I know a good place for us to go,” Guyna suggested. She scooped up Julian’s arm and dragged him along. Julian looked back for just a moment and saw the bus approaching from the distance. He muttered a curse in its direction as he was pulled from the stop.

  As they made their way to Guyna’s mystery destination, Julian’s stomach began to twist up with nerves. Sami and Guyna carried him along, keeping up their own conversation. Guyna was going on about her favourite subject — her recent sex-capades. Sami listened with excitement, asking questions, cracking sarcastic comments, and squealing with laughter, making Guyna’s grin all the wider. Julian let himself slip from their grasp and follow a step behind the pair, thankful at least that his friends (or, at the moment, kidnappers) could keep each other occupied.

  Julian started looking around. He caught one of the drivers on the street giving their trio a long look. A passing group of pedestrians let out a cruel-sounding giggle. Chewing the ends of his fingernails, Julian again found himself dreaming of the safety of his dark little bedroom. But it was too late to bail now. They had arrived — at The Orchard bookstore.

  The Orchard was quiet and calm, just like Guyna had promised. With few other people in the store, Julian could wander among the dusty old paperbacks and look at their cover art. Guyna had barely taken two steps inside before she started putting the moves on the clerk behind the counter.

  “Did you bring us here just to flirt?” Sami asked with a sideways smile. Guyna winked in response.

  Julian’s eyes fell on a book with a picture of a tall, handsome man, the romantic figure’s dark hair swirling as he was silhouetted by a sunset. The character, to Julian, was the spitting image of Romeo. He picked it up and took in the details. He only glanced up when he realized Sami was standing next to him, giving a knowing look.

  “I know, I know,” Julian whined. He put the book back on the shelf in hurried embarrassment. “It’s silly. But I just keep thinking about him!” He sighed. “Maybe I should just go home and do a painting. I need to get out this energy!”

  “I can think of better ways to get out my energy!” Guyna responded loudly from the front of the store.

  Sami shrugged and patted Julian on the shoulder. They left him to his fantasies, moving toward the back of the store to a section with books on body modification. Julian picked up the romance novel once more to look at the cover. He sighed, put it back down again, and moved deeper into the stacks.

  Running his hand along the multi-coloured spines of worn, second-hand books, Julian’s mind returned to the night before. He relived the electricity of the kiss, the heartbreak of Romeo leaving without a goodbye. He was gripped with the fear that it had been, at best, a one-time chance encounter and, at worst, some kind of cruel joke.

  “Romeo,” Julian said the name quietly to himself. He liked the way it moved through his mouth, how it rolled off his tongue and fell through his lips. “Romeo,” he said again. “Who is named Romeo these days, anyway? And what am I doing wanting a guy like that?” With a sigh, he said the name again. “Romeo . . . why did you run off like that? Was Ty right to chase you away? Were those guys really your friends? And what about me? Was I just a victim of a prank? Or a drunken experiment?” Julian leaned back onto a stack of books. “Romeo, who are you? Will I ever see you again?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Julian saw a row of books burst forward off the shelf. Several volumes fell to the floor. He approached with caution. Was there some kind of creeper in the stacks? Or maybe The Orchard had a ghost? Either way, his stomach clenched in embarrassment. What if someone had overheard him talking to himself? Just as suddenly as the books had fallen, a face appeared in the space. A face Julian recognized right away.

  “You!” Julian and the face gasped in unison. Julian’s jaw dropped. What were the chances? Romeo’s face was framed by books, a deep red running up his cheeks. His wide eyes looked down, suddenly shy.

  “Romeo, that’s you, isn’t it?” Julian asked, taking a step closer.

  “I, um — it’s, um —” Romeo stuttered a reply.

  Julian smiled. He went to the edge of the small hole Romeo had made between the books. “I’m Julian,” he offered. He put his hand on the edge of the opening, trying to lean in a little more. “Julian Capulet.”

  Romeo didn’t meet Julian’s eye. Instead, his gaze only got as far as Julian’s fingertips. “What needed yellow?” Romeo asked.

  “Hm?” Julian glanced down to where Romeo was looking. “Oh, that,” Julian laughed. A splash of yellow was wrapped around the side of his pinky finger. “I was just doing a little painting. Guess I didn’t wash it all off.”

  Romeo said something back, but Julian couldn’t listen. He was too focused on Romeo’s lips. He loved the way they looked as he spoke, moving back and forth like two dancers, coming together and apart again. They seemed warm and inviting. And they were getting closer . . . Julian leaned forward, close enough to feel Romeo’s breath pushing up against his own, their faces hidden in a little cave made of books. It smelled like well-worn pages, old glue holding together spines of well-loved stories. There was just a touch of dust along the top of the larger novels. Julian took a deep breath. His fingertips gently reached out and touched Romeo’s. Julian felt the same uncontrollable pull as the night before.

  Romeo whispered, a nervous tremor in his voice, “Would you mind if I tested something?”

  Julian nodded, absentmindedly. Now that their lips were so close, he was unable to think of anything else beyond the pounding of his heart as it filled up his head. Finally, Romeo leaned a centimetre closer, saying, “I sort of haven’t really — I haven’t felt the way I felt when we . . . I guess, I want to be sure.” Then, at last, they connected in a kiss, and there was no need for words anymore.

  A wave ran all the way through Julian’s body. All he wanted was more. Nothing else mattered, nothing but this. He reached in to pull Romeo’s face closer as their kiss became more passionate. They managed to knock over several more books in the process.

  “Hey, you two!” the shopkeeper’s voice rang out, interrupting their moment. “Not in the books, would ya?”

  Julian’s heart sank as Romeo pulled away and glanced toward the front of the store with a nervous look.

  “Hey, is that you, Julian? Who you got there?” Guyna’s voice came over in a shout from the direction Romeo was
looking. Julian whirled around and saw Sami approaching from the other side, looking curious, carrying an armful of books on DIY piercings and stick-n-poke tattoos.

  Julian glanced back again at Romeo, who was breathing heavily. Not in the mood for his friends’ probing questions and cutting remarks, Julian figured Romeo seemed just as anxious, maybe even more so. Without another thought, Julian ran to the end of the bookshelf. Grabbing Romeo’s hand, he pulled him towards the door, heading out of The Orchard and into the street.

  06

  I Like You

  Julian’s high-tops hit the pavement, followed by the clap of Romeo’s skate shoes. Julian glanced back at him, flashing a smile. “Come on,” he said, squeezing Romeo’s hand. “I know a place.”

  They ran past bars, restaurants, cafés, and corner stores. Neon lights and streetlamps buzzed awake. Normally, Julian would be anxious to get home by now. But with Romeo at his side, he almost felt safe. They passed out of Osborne Village, cut through the park outside the city legislature, and entered the heart of downtown. Barely a word passed between the two as Julian weaved them through the streets, clutching Romeo’s hand tightly, only glancing back once in a while to make sure this was really happening. He was really there. Soon enough, they reached the Exchange District. Julian led Romeo to a place he’d loved to visit, back in the days before he pulled away from the outside world — The Hungry Rhino.

  Inside, things were fairly quiet. Julian’s old favourite table was open, the one near the back with a chessboard print painted on it. The pair set themselves down into the well-worn wooden chairs and, after a few minutes of avoiding eye contact, Julian began to nervously bite his fingernails. While they were walking, the quiet had been comfortable. But now the lack of conversation was awkward. What if they had nothing in common? What if Julian had just ditched his friends, without even telling them where he was going, to sit down face-to-face with a stranger and potential homophobe?