Page 35 of Fruit
“Fat chance.”
“Well, just because something should be a certain way doesn’t mean it’s gonna be. But…at least you know that you’re like…in the right. You’re being who you are. That’s all that you can and should do. Being gay, or, just, your sexuality as a whole, whatever it may be, does not define whatkindof person you are. As in, it’s not something to be judged on. So, if someonedoesjudge you on that, and is, a, like, dick about it, then that’s on them. That says something aboutthem.”
The thread Joshua had been fidgeting with snaps. He shrugs.
“I’m not saying that’s going to magically stop whatever your dad is saying or doing from hurting you because…yeah. That stuff hurts. But at least youknow—you’re the one with the moral high ground. Which, you know, doesn’t necessarilyfeelgreat, in the moment, but…you get to decide what kind of person you are. And what your dad says about you doesn’t define you.”
Joshua scratches at the now-clear hole in his jeans.
“Do you mind telling me what he said?” I ask. Joshua tenses, his hand freezing against his leg for a moment.
“It’s nothing.”
“Well—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” he says, and I can practically see him close off from me.
“All right, okay. I get it. I just…I want to make sure that…you feel safe at home.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Okay. But. If anything ever…if you ever want to talk about something, Joshua. If something ever happens that…I don’t know. If something ever happens to you that if it happened to Hugo, for example, you’d tell someone, I want you to try and tell us, okay? Or someone. A teacher, your mom…”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Okay. I just wanted you to know. You’re not alone.”
Joshua looks down at his hands as the silence stretches, only half-broken by Joshua’s mumbled, “Thanks.”
I poke him lightly on his arm and smile when he looks at me. He almost smiles back.
*****
“Come in.”
I open the door to Sebastián’s office, peeking my head in.
“You busy?”
“It’s fine,” Sebastián says from behind his desk, gesturing at the chair on the opposite side. I step in, closing the door behind me before flopping onto the chair.
“Teenagers are exhausting,” I say, although there’s a smile on my face.
“Yep,” Sebastián snorts.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Joshua,” I say. Sebastián’s face sobers. “He seemed down today, and I poked him about it. Apparently, his dad was being, and I quote, a dick. Joshua wouldn’t tell me exactly what his dad said, but…yeah.”
Sebastián sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Hume. Yeah—I haven’t met him, but we’ve talked on the phone.”
“I bet that was delightful.”
“Oh, yeah. He had a few objections to his son coming to an LGBTQ youth centre. Asked me how I vetted the volunteers to make sure they weren’t ‘kiddie fiddlers’.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. I mean, I guess it shows some level of concern, but. If that’s where his head goes to when he hears LGBT, I don’t want to think about how he must talk to Joshua.”
“Yeah.”
