How difficult it must have been for gay people back then when simply being in love with someone was seen as a crime... =(
Chapter 12
Let things pan out the way that they were supposed to? Was having his heart ripped out of him supposed to happen? If so, Cole hated fate, or whatever force made it happen.
A week passed and Mr. Phillips never returned. Aunt Josephine heard what happened, on account of the shouting, so Cole didn't have to inform her of anything. He stood in the back garden and had a go at some angry art. He had bought buckets of red, black, and blue paint in town and threw the paint on the largest canvas he could find at that same art store, which was a meter tall and two meters wide. He shouted as he pelted the canvas with paint, the ending product looking like a massive three-by-six-foot bruise. His heart probably resembled it on account of it constantly pounding for a week.
Cole stared at the painting, and thought of the one that he and Mr. Phillips did that time. One full of happy colors. Cole wanted to show Mr. Phillips this one just so he knew how hurt he is. And how angry. Mr. Phillips just wants to pretend it all didn't happen and push Cole away when they had a friendship, a friendship that was ruined by their feelings for each other... unnatural feelings.
"Cole!" Aunt Josephine's voice made him jump, and he saw the older woman walk up to him, and at the mess of paint in the grass. "Oh, goodness me..." she exasperated.
"I will clean it up, I just... needed to vent."
She put her hands on her hips, over her deep blue dress. "Well, I think you made a good job of it. I have a surprise for you that may make you stop moping."
"What?"
Someone came out of the house, and Cole instantly noticed her orange hair and braids. His heart lifted for the first time in a week. He ran up to her as soon as she stepped off the steps to the back patio and embraced her. "Anne!"
She immediately embraced him back. "Oh, Cole, it is so good to see you! Aunt Josephine wrote me and said that you were not fairing so well, so I came as soon as I could."
They undid themselves from one another, Cole beaming. "It's great to see you, too. I'm sorry I haven't written. I've just been preoccupied with other things."
"I can imagine."
"How did you get here? Are you alone?"
"Oh, no. Marilla and Matthew are in Charlotte Town running some errands. They dropped me off here and off they went."
"Oh."
Anne looked over at his work of art, and Aunt Josephine went on in the house, leaving the two teenagers. Anne walked up to the canvas, not caring she was stepping on wet paint in the grass. She examined his large bruise on a canvass. "This is exquisite."
Cole stood up next to her. "Mr. Phillips calls it angry art."
"The deep colors indeed show that you are angry. What are you angry about?" She looked up at him since he is a full head taller than her now. "Does it have to do with Mr. Phillips?"
Cole swallowed emotion that rose in his throat. "Yes."
"Do you have feelings for him? Did he reject you?"
"I... don't really want to talk about it right now."
Cole went off and stood near the little table with the empty paint buckets on it. He swished some spilled paint on the table with a paintbrush. Anne stood next to him. "What happened?" she asked calmly, and concerned.
"It's just... it is so hard being who I am."
"You mean... liking boys?"
"Yes. And... to answer your question... yes, I have feelings for Mr. Phillips. No, I... it's more than that. More than just a silly crush."
Anne gasped and grabbed onto Cole's arm. "Cole... are you in love with Mr. Phillips?"
Cole bit his bottom lip and nodded. He met Anne's green eyes. She already knows how he feels, and she is his best friend. "Yes. And he knows it. And he feels the same way. It's just... we can't pursue it because being the way we are is illegal." Anne stared at him, and he could almost see the thoughts rushing through her mind. She about said something, but he revealed, "We fought about it last week. We were yelling at each other, just because we can't be together. He just left after that and hasn't returned."
Anne sighed in her exaggerated way. "Oh... he must be in the deepest depths of despair. And so have you."
"You're right. I haven't been able to smile all week. Well, until you showed up."
"This is so tragical..." She tightened her hold on his arm, and took his other arm and made him face her, her expression. "You know what you should do? You need to go to him in Charlotte Town, if he won't come to you."
"But it's illegal, Anne."
"That shouldn't matter. Loving another person and wanting them to be your life partner should not be a crime."
"Regardless... it is. There's nothing we can do."
Anne huffed through her nose. She said in all seriousness and desperation, and with a bit of emotion that was very her, "You need to go to him, Cole! Go and be with the person you love. It will bring you both great happiness."
"Anne..."
"You have to, Cole, if you expect to ever be happy again!"
Cole stared at his fiery best friend, at the pleading look in her green eyes. She is right. He isn't going to be happy unless he goes and convinces Mr. Phillips that they should be together. "I don't know if he will agree to anything."
"If he loves you, too, he will." She patted his arm. "Now, I want to try this angry art. It looks like a lot of fun."
Cole smiled and they got to it. He found an extra canvas in the house and Cole and Anne had fun splashing paint onto the white canvas. He is so grateful for his friend who came at the exact right time, keeping him from falling further into depression. He doesn't know if visiting Mr. Phillips will be fruitful, but at least he can try. And if all else fails, at least he has his friends.
Cole took a deep breath of courage as he entered the men's clothing store two days later. The middle-aged owner behind the counter instantly saw him and smiled. "My, my, I was wondering when you were coming back. That tutor of yours talks of nothing else but you."
Cole walked more into the store, his heart hammering inside of him. "Really?"
"Oh, yes. Although, he's been a bit quiet the past couple of weeks. He hasn't even left his apartment as far as I know. Are you here to visit him?"
"Yes. I just wanted to talk to him about tutoring things. We just took a spring break, that's all."
The man's eye twinkled. "I see. Well, he is surely up there. You know the way."
Cole nodded and went on through to the back and up the stairs. He stood in front of Mr. Phillips' door. He heard footsteps on the other side. He's home. Cole's heart could beat out of him as he held up a fist and almost knocked. "C'mon, Cole. You're already here."
He still held up his fist, but he sighed and put it down. He walked around the hallway a bit and leaned against the wall near Mr. Phillips' neighbor's door. He took breaths through his nose over and over again, trying to control his emotions and his heating face.
His heart jumped up to the roof when he heard a door open and a person stood out of Mr. Phillips' door. Surprise filled his voice. "Cole?"
Cole looked over to see Mr. Phillips step out into the hallway, dressed in trousers and a white button-up shirt untucked. His hair was tousled as well, like he just got out of bed.
"What are you doing here?" Mr. Phillips asked, his gaze showing anger.
"I just..." Cole began, but stopped. He couldn't say straight out what he wanted to. "I was just wondering when you're coming back to tutor me."
"That is over with, as I have said. There was no need to come here."
He turned and went on in, but Cole quickly came and stopped the door before Mr. Phillips could shut it. The man looked back at his previous pupil with wide eyes. "Move your hand, Cole!"
"Please, Mr. Phillips. Let me say something."
"There is nothing more to say. Now leave this place. Leave me alone."
"You don't want me to do that, and you know it."
Mr. Phillips glared at him, his mouth in a firm, thin line. "Fine. Come in. But only for a few minutes."
Cole relaxed and went on in passed Mr. Phillips. The apartment looked pretty much the same as the last time Cole was there, only there were a few new paintings. One in particular stood out. Cole walked up to it and gulped when he realized who the young man standing next an easel was, holding a paint brush in his hand, and smiling as sunlight shone on him. "That's..."
"What do you want, Cole?"
Cole turned and faced Mr. Phillips, who had his arms crossed. The answer to his question pushed at his lips, and he let it tumble out...
"You."
Mr. Phillips features softened, yet he turned away. "If this is what you came for, go. I already told you that it cannot happen."
Cole came closer to him and noticed the scent of soap. "Because it's illegal, right? Is that the only reason? What would happen if that wasn't an issue?"
"It is!" he shot at him with fierce eyes, and turned to face him. "It is, Cole. And you nor I cannot do a thing about it!"
Tears stung the backs of Cole's eyes as that truth really sank in. He looked at that painting again. "That's me. You painted a picture of me like a made a sculpture of you."
"You gave me the idea."
"Is that the only reason?"
"Of course not. You know why."
"Say it, then. Say the reason." He met his gaze. "I want to hear it. And don't let the fear of it being illegal stop you."
The two stared long and hard at one another as Cole's heart pounded hard in him. Mr. Phillips chest moved up and down in heavy increments as that glare continued, and Cole prayed that he would say something. Cole let out a gasp when Mr. Phillips briskly walked over and pushed Cole by the shoulders into a table with various painting supplies on it.
"You already know that I show more than I tell."
Cole didn't have time to respond. Mr. Phillips' mouth enveloped Cole's, and that heat and moisture became all that Cole focused on, as well as the heated and hard body pressed against his chest. His hands gripped the edge of the table as Mr. Phillips grabbed that back of his head and deepened the kiss, and kissed him deeply, weakening his limbs to a point where the only thing keeping him standing was the table. Cole felt his tongue touch his own.
The kiss slowed and Cole felt the heat and moisture vanish. Dazed, heated in the cheeks, and weak, he stared back at brown eyes. He still felt fingers on the back of his head, digging into his scalp.
"Now you know why," Mr. Phillips said breathily. "Now you know everything."
Cole couldn't will his tongue to work, yet he still tried to speak as a tear rolled down his cheek from sheer happiness. The hand on the back of his head moved to the front and removed the tear, and the heat of the hand encumbered Cole's cheek. A thumb moved across his cheek, and Cole suddenly felt Mr. Phillips' mouth on his again. Cole responded to the movement by moving his own mouth in sync with his a few times.
"Alright," Mr. Phillips said after they unhooked, "you win. You... you drive me absolutely crazy. I couldn't stand the sight of you at times because of it."
Cole gulped, his tongue still not cooperating.
"I fell in love you, Cole, and totally against my will."
The euphoria that suddenly overcame Cole's whole soul caused him to fling his arms around Mr. Phillips' neck and embrace him like his very life depended on it. Arms wrapped around him and held him tight. Tears of pure elation fell from his eyes.
"I knew it," he said, and Mr. Phillips chuckled.
The two looked back at one another, still embracing, and Mr. Phillips leaned in again. Cole was again pushed into the table, only he was too preoccupied with Mr. Phillips' mouth running with his, and his tongue entering his mouth, to notice the pain that shot through his upper legs at the impact.
Cole couldn't even express the amount of joy running through him at finally allowing himself, and Mr. Phillips allowing it as well, to not worry about the outside world—what was legal and illegal...
One should be with the one they love, no matter who they are. Just as Anne said.