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I was fully aware that this was most likely a bad idea. But with the rumours about him leaving the school at the end of this year there were possibly only a few days left for me to find out whether there was something between us. Or rather whether he felt it, as well.
I was probably crazy and looking for clues that weren’t there. But for me there was something there. For a long time, I hadn’t been sure if it was attraction in a romantic way or just a strong friendship and purely platonic. But the longer I had thought about it the more I had realized that for me at least it wasn’t purely platonic. That I wanted more. And if I wanted to find out whether he felt the same I had to do this. Tonight. There was no other way.
Even though I knew I needed to do this and I also kind of wanted to, I still hesitated when I arrived at Justin’s door. This probably wasn’t as good of an idea as I had thought a few minutes ago with a glass of wine in my own room. First of there was still a probability that Justin was heterosexual and in a relationship, and second even if he wasn’t and wasn’t going to leave the school, a relationship between two male teachers was certainly a no go. We were teaching at a French elite boarding school, after all. And the school board was made up of rich and sometimes snobby people who would not like the idea of gays teaching their spoilt sons. Besides, if for whatever reason we’d not be fired because of our relationship we’d go through hell if any of our students would find out. So, yes. This was an absolutely bad idea.
But while I was aware of everything that could go wrong there still was this small voice telling me that none of those things were real arguments or reasons to not tell him and that I was just looking for excuses because I was afraid of being hurt.
So, instead of going back to my own room and into bed with another glass of wine I took two deep breaths and knocked.
Justin opened almost immediately as if he had waited for someone or was just about to leave the room. He was wearing jeans and a far too big cardigan and as always, his hair was standing off is head in all directions. Sometimes he really looked like the walking cliché of a history teacher. Well, actually he did most of the time.
“Emmanuel, what are you doing here?”, he asked, a confused look on his face.
“Hi, can I maybe come in first?”
“Uhm, of course.”
He slowly stepped out of the door and made way for me to walk into the room. A big grin made its way to my face as I looked around in the room. There were books everywhere. I had always thought that I was a crazy reader, but this was an absurd amount of books.
“Did you read all of them?”
“Most of them. I can’t say no to books, so there are a few I bought but never read. But most of them I did read.”
“And my friends always call me crazy because of the number of books I read and own.”
“You’re a French teacher. Reading is kind of your job, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I guess it is. But I do read a lot of books that aren’t for school.”
“What do you usually read?”
I had started wandering through his room to look at the covers and backs of the books and to find out what he was reading.
“Everything. Thriller, science fiction, classical literature, French, German, English, history books, non-fiction books. Literally everything. I’ve also tried writing books but I’m not good at that. What do you read?”
“I’m not a big fan of thriller but apart from that everything, as well. Although I do have a preference for non-fiction books about historic events. Obviously. What did you write?”
“Sounds like a good taste in books. I started writing different things, but I never finished anything.”
“If you say so. Yeah, finishing something is always the hardest part. But I guess you’re not here to talk about books, are you?”
“Not really, no.”
I had arrived at his window looking out over the parking lot and the forest behind it. But I couldn’t get myself to talk to him. To tell him the truth. About why I was here and my feelings. So, instead I focused on the dark forest beyond the lights of the school grounds and took a few deep breaths. Wrapping my arms around me.
“There are rumours going around that you’re going to leave at the end of this year.”
“I’ve been thinking about it, yes.”
“Why?”
“I got quite a good offer from a private school in Paris. And I’m thinking about taking it.”
“Paris, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m not actually sure if I’m still made for Paris but some things are definitely easier there.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, there is a part of me that I’m doing my best to hide out here because I know my life would become hell if anyone were to find out. That’s just how it is here. But in Paris I would have better chances of hiding it from my students while not having to hide it from everyone all the time.”
“I can relate to that. I have a part like that, as well. And it’s kind of the reason I’m here tonight.”
I was still looking out of the window, but I heard Justin move behind me and in the reflection in the window I watched as he came closer. For a second it looked like he was reaching out to touch me but then he stopped about an armlength away from me. Wrapping his arms around himself and starring out of the window, as well.
“Justin?”
“Yes?”
“I’m gay. I’m gay and in love with you. And I can absolutely understand that you’re thinking about moving to Paris. But I was hoping that maybe you feel the same as I do and that maybe that’d be enough for you to stay here. Because I really don’t want you to go. I don’t even want you to go even if you don’t feel the same. I’d just like to keep you in my life. One way or another.”
“Thank you”, Justin sounded relieved, “To be honest you’re the only reason I’m still thinking about it. Because I couldn’t bear leaving you and because I was hoping that you’d feel the same. That I wasn’t imagining that there is something between us. That I wasn’t reading too much into it and that you had actually fallen in love with me, as well.”
“I did fall in love with you. It only took me forever to realize it. But if you felt the same, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I wasn’t sure about you feeling the same and because I was afraid of getting rejected. I had only just decided to go to your room and tell you when you knocked earlier. Because I had to make sure before finally deciding what to do about Paris.”
In the reflection I saw him slowly moving closer and then I felt the careful touch of his hand on my shoulder. Everything inside me screamed in joy because of this touch. Because I had finally told him. Because I finally knew he felt the same. But within seconds the voice returned. The voice telling me that this was in fact a bad idea. That we could lose everything. The voice asking me if that was worth it. I pushed that voice as far back into my head as possible and slowly turned around to Justin. His look and the fact that his hand followed my movement, wandering to my forearm and down to my hand, told me everything I needed to know to answer the question if it was worth it. Because yes. It was worth it. His love was worth everything that could possibly go wrong. And when he grabbed my other hand and put his lips on mine the voice inside my head finally fell silent.
I returned the kiss. It started slow, careful and a little hesitant as if to test the terrain. As if we both weren’t absolutely sure what we wanted yet. But soon it became faster and more passionate. And the voice inside my head that had until a few moments ago vetoed against this was now asking for more. For more of him. Of this. Simply for more.
“So, you’re not going to Paris?”
We had been sitting on his couch for some time. Just enjoying being close to each other. We each had a glass of wine in our hand and were snuggled together under a blanket.
“I guess I’m not going to Paris. Unless you can come with me.”
“I’d love to but I’m not sure if I’ll find a job.”
“Maybe you should at least look for one. I still think this would be easier in Paris.”
“I’m with you on that. But if I don’t find a job in Paris and we stay here. How do you want to handle this?”
“As quite as possible. No big gestures, no public displays of affection. We should probably keep this under the covers for as long as possible. I’m not a hundred percent sure we won’t lose our jobs if someone finds out we’re gay. Would you have said something else?”
“No, I’m with you on this. This stays our secret for as long as somehow possible.”
“Okay.”
I turned around a little to place a kiss on Justin’s lips.
“We’re going to make this work. Somehow we will.”
“I know.”
Justin looked at me and, in his eyes, I was able to read that he did trust me and that he was sure that we’d make it work. Somehow. Someway.
And even if it got out, we’d still have each other, and we’d face the backlash together. At least that was what I was hoping. But it also was a problem for another day. Today all I wanted to do was to enjoy what we had just found in each other.
*
It was the first chilly morning of autumn and I was standing on our balcony overlooking Paris. Behind me I heard Justin’s footsteps and soon he stood next to me, handing me a cup of coffee. His own in his other hand.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He sighed and put his arm around me. I snuggled a little closer to him thankful for his warmth to chase away the chill of this morning.
“Looking forward to our first day?”
“Yes.”
Justin nodded and let his eyes wander over the city of Paris in front of us.
“Let’s hope we have better luck here”, I said.
“Well, they hired us even though they knew we are gay and together, so at least there is no more secrecy.”
“You’re right about that.”
We had made it about three fourths through the last school year before someone found out about our relationship. Immediately it had made it’s rounds in the school and within hours every student, every teacher and most of the board knew about it. While we had not been fired, we had been advised to find another school to work at. Luckily the school that had offered Justin a position a year ago still had that open position and had meanwhile also gained an open position for a French teacher. And the schoolboard had no issue with us being gay and in a relationship. Neither had the other teachers or the headmaster.
So, in July after the end of the school year we had packed our lives in a few boxes, there hadn’t actually been much to pack up except for an absolutely absurd number of books, and moved to a beautiful small flat in the middle of Paris from which we were able to get to the school in about five minutes using the underground. Since we had both studied in Paris, we knew our way around the city and liked calling it our home. We had both reconnected with old friends that sill lived here, so over the summer we had established a wide network of friends.
It was a good and quite active life compared to our quiet life in the French province. And very much to my delight Justin had blossomed here in Paris. Where he had sill be wearing cardigans and ill-fitting jeans a year ago, he was now wearing fitting jeans and suit jackets. And he looked so much happier. As if he was enjoying being out and proud.
“What are you thinking about?”, Justina asked.
He looked at me and I was sure he had seen the smile that had crept on my face for a second when thinking about the changes he had gone through.
“I was just thinking how you seem to be so much happier since we’re in Paris. And how much I love that.”
“I am happier. Here I can just be myself. I don’t have to hide an important part of me. And most importantly all our friends know about it and accept it. So, yeah. I am happier.”
“And I’m in love with it. And with you.”
“So am I.”
We finished our coffees without talking before we went back inside to pack our bags for today. Then we left for school. Both a little nervous but also quite in a good mood and holding hands with each other. We were out and proud and most importantly we were both these things together.