Page 81 of Unexpected Boyfriends

“There’s no guarantee that won’t happen anyway,” she says softly. “You didn’t choose to be gay, and you can’t change it even if you wanted to, you could only ever pretend. Do you think they’ll come around and accept you the way you are?”

“I don’t know,” Justin answers in a small voice. “I always knew it wouldn’t be good if my family found out, but I hoped that maybe with time…”

“Howdidthey find out? Did you come out to them?” I interrupt.

Justin gives me a sad look, his expression shuttered. I have the impression there’s some reason he doesn’t want me to know, and for a moment my heart freezes. Could he have been involved with someone else? We never specifically said we were exclusive, but I’d thought it was… implied?

Suddenly I don’t want to hear the answer anymore. I can’t deal with the bottom falling out of my world right here, right now. We need to focus on keeping Justin safe.

“It’s okay,” I amend quickly, “I don’t need to know.”

Maybe something of what I’m thinking shows on my face, because Justin reaches over and takes my hand.

“That last time at the airport,” he says quietly, “when I came home after mid-term holidays. My grandparents saw us together.”

My first reaction is overwhelming relief. Then guilt. Guilt that I’d misjudged him and jumped to the conclusion I had, and a second serve of guilt that I was the reason he’d been outed to his family. The conflicting emotions war inside me and I get lost in my head for a moment.

“Are you okay?” Justin asks anxiously.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just thought for a moment, that maybe you’d… you’d…” I can’t finish articulating it, but Justin’s eyes go wide. He’s understood.

“No, no! Of course not. Only you.” He’s emphatic. And he looks a little horrified, which just makes me feel even more guilty.

I’m sorry.I mouth the words.

He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay. Long distance is hard enough without all this other shit, oops, sorry, stuff going on." His eyes glance to Gran as he apologizes for the slip. "And I can tell from your reaction thatyouhaven’t been seeing anyone else either, so that’s a plus.” Justin shrugs. Then he adds softly, “I did wonder, when I was locked away for a couple of monthsand couldn’t contact you, whether you’d move on. Especially when you didn’t answer my letters.”

I hate the look on his face when he thinks about that place.

“I did write to you, you know. When you didn’t answer my emails, I wrote letters. But I sent them to your home address.” And clearly, if he never got them, the same thing that was happening in my household was also happening in his.

Still, even with what I know now, I cringe, remembering how needy and awkward it felt at the time, writingmultipleletters to someone who didn’t seem to care enough to answer any of them.

But when it comes to Justin, I clearly have no pride; I will do anything.

And then I remember he’s just told me I accidentally outed him.

“I’m sorry you were outed because of me,” I say, apologetically.

“It wasn’t your fault. Just bad luck. But my grandparents must have called my parentsimmediatelybecause by the time the flight landed, my phone had been cancelled and they drove me straight from the airport to the ReEducation Centre and checked me in. I had no idea what was happening. They told me some bullshit story about going for a holiday.”

His eyes go distant as he recalls the day that started his nightmare, and I’m afraid he’s going to have another panic attack. Gran must have seen it too because she jumps in.

“Well, you’re here now and we intend to keep you safe,” she says and immediately changes the topic to distract him.

We discuss plans, but really it’s very simple. Justin can only leave the house to go in the back yard, but otherwise he’s staying home for the next six weeks. He's going to get in touch withone of his school mates who he can trust, and get him to send class notes and references, and he's going to study like crazy to catch up. Gran will take care of the shopping and any errands that might become necessary, scarcely varying her routine at all. Justin won’t answer the door, or the house phone, and will stay out of sight if anyone comes to visit.

I’ll stay the night and then drive home.

Gran excuses herself and heads to bed early this evening. I suspect she’s just giving us privacy for our last night before we separate again.

We stay up late watching a movie on the couch, Justin resting his head in my lap. When the movie ends, we reluctantly get up and prepare to go to bed.

Things are awkward between us. I’m going, he’s staying, and we’re in someone else’s house. We pause at the door to Justin’s bedroom.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

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