Back at school
Jean and Julien continued seeing each other au college. They made time for each other during le dejeuner, and whenever they had a moment to spare. It was not the same. They still had their deep moments, but they could both feel something growing between them. They stared into each other's eyes for extended periods of time, and neither of them could focus on their schoolwork thanks to each other. Even Jean, who wanted to be un comptable, could no longer finish his devoirs de mathematiques.
A week passed. Julien decided that action had to be taken. Something had to be done. L'homosexualite was not acceptable by society. The next best thing he could do would be to have Jean stay at his house permanently. He asked his mother for permission, to which she obviously consented to, being the mother that she was.
Scene 15
Jean was moved into Julien's soundproof room. At first, Julien had offered the king-size to Jean, while he could sleep on the extra cot Mme Quentin had brought in. Jean graciously declined, saying the cot was enough. Although truthfully he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in Julien's bed without thinking of his sculpted body.
In the middle of the night, Julien was awoken to the sound of Jean thrashing around on his cot. He climbed out of bed and shook the mysterious handsome boy awake. He glanced into Jean's eyes. "A nightmare?" He inquired.
"Yes," Jean nodded, a bit guardedly.
"Tell you what," said Julien, trying to seem nonchalant. "How about tonight, we share my bed? That way you will feel safer with me around."
Jean blushed. "If that's okay with you, Julien."
That's better than okay, thought Julien, I'll finally have my dreams come true. He became hard just thinking about it.
Neither of them could sleep that night. Their minds were constantly drifting to each other. They turned so they could face each other, and talked about life. They talked about the good, like playing the piano and eating chestnuts, and about the bad, like Jean's time at Auschwitz and the bombing of Julien's father. Their whispers grew gentler as the night progressed, and their bodies got closer and closer. Each boy could feel himself falling deeper in love.
As the sun began to rise, Jean woke with his arms entwined with Julien's. He left them there, shrouded in Julien's warmth, and fell back asleep.
It was morning when the two of them woke again. Julien leaned to face Jean's closed eyes.
"Tu as peur?" He asked
"Tout le temps," he replied. "But I am never scared in your arms."
"What happened," inquired Julien, "in the camp?"
"It was so hard. After leaving Auschwitz, I continued walking to Krakow with the sole intention to sneak on a train and return to you, Julien." He paused, certain that he had blurted out too much too soon. His stupid mouth! He'd never let it get ahead of his mind before. Well, before he met Julien all those years ago.
Once again Julien was speechless. "Oh," he whispered.
"I couldn't help feeling guilt for Negus. I mean, I know it was his wish to save me, but I didn't love him back! And I still don't! I still… can't."
"You can't choose who you fall in love with, Jean. But you can choose to have a happy ending together." Julien snuggled closer to Jean.
La classe de maths
"Merde! I'm going to be late! To la classe de maths! When I'm going to become a comptable!" Jean gathered his things in the cafeteria au college. Julien laughed. Lovely sophisticated Jean looked flustered, he thought. Would he look like that in bed? But then Julien reminded himself that God was watching his thoughts. God's like Big Brother, he thought. Always watching…
"Julien!" Jean yelled and Julien snapped out of his daydream
"Huh?"
"Julien, I was asking you something important!" Julien held his breath, not daring to hope that Jean was asking if he loved him back. "I asked if you had seen ma calculatrice"
Slowly, Julien exhaled. So, it wasn't those three sweet words he had been longing to hear from the lovely boy's mouth.
"Non, Jean. Non."
Meanwhile, Jean was frustrated. Not just because he couldn't find sa calculatrice. It was also because Julien looked frustrated. Sexually frustrated. He wanted to place a palm on Julien's chest and push him backwards until he was against a wall and kiss him. He wanted to satisfy Julien's cravings. He wished he were capable of doing that. But no, he thought. Julien wouldn't want someone damaged as me.
The long months spent in hiding had taken its toll on Jean. The train system was completely unusable, with the Nazis searching every car for politicals and Juifs and homosexuels. Jean was 67% of the people they were looking for. A kind family of a pastor on the outskirts of Krakow had taken him in and hidden him in their cellar. There was a trap-door beneath a mound of potatoes, and every time the Nazis ransacked the family home, the pastor had called out "jesteś ziemniaczana", Polish for "tu es une pomme de terre." That was the signal for Jean to dig through the mound of potatos and disappear through the trap door to a dank and cold space.
Alone under that cellar, Jean had dwelled upon the death of Negus and the growing fear in his gut that Julien would have moved on and by the time he returned to France, Julien would have gotten un copain, or worse, une copine. He tortured himself with thoughts of Julien loving a petite girl, an honest chretien, with flaxen hair and an easy smile and plentiful words. Jean could never be someone that Julien wanted. By the time the Soviets had swept through Poland, liberating the Jews and sending the prisoners back to their homes, Jean had convinced himself of the futility of his unrequited love, bid goodbye to the pastor, and gone back to live with his the sister-in-law of his uncle's third cousin's ex-husband. Those three months had changed him. He had never tried to find Julien after he returned. Let him have his petite chretien girl with hair of silk and easy smiles and laughs. Please, let Julien be happy if he cannot be with me.