Florence holds her breath as she watches the endgame between Freddie and his opponent, the game in nearly the same exact position as the one between Freddie and Mr. Drill all those years ago. Two possible moves. One victorious, the other fatal. Freddie hesitates, then chooses wisely. Florence lets out her breath and stifles a grin. The game isn't over yet, but she's confident in Freddie's success. A few short minutes later, Freddie is named chess champion of the New England region. The past months have been filled with chess tournaments, Freddie sweeping the boards at each. With each win, the anticipation grows, the nervous excitement. Freddie always knows there's a possibility he could lose and turns it into motivation to win. Freddie holds Florence's hand as they follow the officials to where their picture will be taken for the records. Once everything is over, the officials disappear and the place is bare aside from a few stragglers. They turn the corner and Freddie stops in his tracks, pulling Florence closer to him. A strong but gentle arm encircles her waist while his other hand weaves into her hair, cupping where her neck meets her head. Florence closes her eyes as their lips meet in a flood of passion. The kiss tastes of love and devotion and passion and peace. The break apart for breath.
"Happy one year, my champion. I'm so proud of you." Freddie looks into Florence's eyes and sees all he had missed as a child. Love, commitment, someone who he's not their second choice, third, fourth, last. A relationship with depth and promise, not surface level promises meant to be broken. Florence sees someone true, someone with whom she can be herself, someone she doesn't have to be strong for. He draws her into his arms, savoring the perfect way she fits under his chin, the way her arms wrap around him, holding tight as if to say she'll never let him go. Somewhere in a nearby hallway, a vacuum starts, drawing Freddie and Florence back to the present, back to the real world. The walk outside, hand in hand. Florence nudges Freddie and points to a sign a little ways up the sidewalk. "Look, there's a cable car stop. There's one right by the hotel too. It'll take us right there." Freddie tenses and his palm grows sweaty in Florence's.
"Um, it's not too far. How about we just walk?" Concern fills Florence's eyes as she looks at Freddie.
"Alright. Is everything okay?" Freddie swallows hard, decades old pain in his eyes. He stares ahead or at the sidewalk, avoiding Florence's gaze.
"When we get further away from people." They follow the sidewalk out of the center of town to the more sparsely populated area on the outskirts. "I used to live near a cable car station, with my mom and dad. I was about nine years old. I liked chess more than sports. I wasn't the most masculine of kids, but I was nine years old. Anyways, my dad thought I was gay, and no son of his was going to be a fag." The words come straight from his father's mouth. Florence hears the disdain in his voice, the pain still fresh after all these years. "I loved the cable cars. I loved looking out the car window at the trees below. One night, my dad asked if I wanted to go on the cable car with him. I was so excited. I thought maybe he finally liked me for once." Florence reaches over and wipes a tear from Freddie's cheek, struggling to hold back her own at the intense emotion before her. "We were alone in the car. He said if I was gay he'd give me what I liked. I tried to tell him I wasn't gay, but he wouldn't listen. I tried to stop him but I was too small, not strong enough." Freddie takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. His words barely come out as a whisper, full of shame and hurt and dreams that have long since died. "My own father raped my in that cable car." Florence doesn't try to stop the tears rolling down her face. To be carrying this pain for so long...her heart breaks for him. Freddie opens his eyes again, a flat sadness overtaking any other emotion. "My mother didn't believe me. I couldn't tell my friends, the teachers at school. I was too scared, too ashamed." He turns to Florence. "You're the first person I've told in eighteen years." Florence nods, too choked up to say anything. Something inside Freddie feels a little less broken at the sight of her care and compassion for him. That day he'd sworn never to let anyone close enough to hurt him again. His head begs him to listen and save himself from any future hurt that may come, but his heart throws caution to the wind as he steps forward and envelops Florence in his arms. Her tears soak his shirt as his soak her hair. While everyone else told him not to cry, Florence shares his tears.