Le school is a drag
"Ugh." Julien tightened the tie around his neck, a little too tightly.
"Silly Julien," Jean chuckled. He smiled to himself as he loosened Julien's tie. What a klutz. But Julien was his klutz and that was all that mattered.
"Shush," he muttered, red spreading across his cheeks. "I don't want to go back to snobby Parisian school. The boys there are insufferable."
"I know. But we can do it together and we'll be out of there in a few months."
"Yeah, I guess…" The mail slot down the hall clanged open and a packet of envelopes fell onto the floor of the apartment.
"I bet my bac registration is in there!" Jean could hardly contain his excitement. He sprinted down the hallway, nearly sliding and breaking his neck on the polished waxed floors. The maid had done her job, maybe too well.
"I hope I don't get another lettre de Maman." Julien trailed after him, less enthusiastically.
Jean picked up the bundle. "Sorry, Julien."
"You've got to be kidding me," Julien sighed. "Another one?"
"Another five, actually."
"Merde." He held out his hand and Jean handed the envelopes to him. "What else is there?"
"A flyer for home cleaning services, a trial subscription for this new film service? Le Netflix?"
"What a dumb name. I bet it's never going to catch on."
"My bac registration, a letter from a Nigerian prince…" Jean trailed off, confused.
"What is it? Don't tell me you've never gotten a letter from a Nigerian prince."
"No, it's not that." He held out an envelope to Julien.
"A Julien. De Pere Jean, Mauthausen, 10 mai, 1945." He gaped. "But it can't be. Pere Jean is dead! And it's 1948!"
"Pere Jean died after liberation. And I guess this just took a long time to get to us?" Jean was about to open the envelope when another parcel dropped out from beneath it. Julien bent to pick it up.
"Why is there another bac registration here?" He turned it over and his stomach clenched with comprehension. "Julien Quentin, registered by Mme. Anne Bernard-Quentin."
"Julien."
Silently, Julien stormed down the hallway and back into their shared room.
Mme Quentin is being obsessive
'Dear Julien,
I hope you are well and that you've had a nice Christmas. Your Papa's friend is very nice. His name is Emile Perrot, and I will be staying a while longer with him. Have you made up your mind about what you are going to faire polytechnique for? Engineering? Or law? Or politics. You were always such a charming boy. But YOU MUST FAIRE POLYTECHNIQUE.
Love, Maman'
'Dear Julien,
It has been a lovely New Year in Lille. I made the resolution that I would be diligent in providing my baby boy the education that he must undertake. I think you should resolve to take the bac (and, of course, pass it) and then faire polytechnique. Really, that is the best and only way. Your father would be proud.
Love, Maman'
'Dear Julien,
Francois and his wife are expecting a child. You should faire polytechnique too in order to marry and expect a child and be able to provide for your family. You were always a family man and a grand sentimental. You know what you have to do.
Love, Maman
PS The deadline for registering for the bac is almost here. Have you registered yet?'
'Dear Julien,
I hope you have registered for your bac and are studying hard. Don't go to Africa to become a priest. You will contract cholera AND DIE. You do know that the registration deadline is tomorrow, right?
Love, Maman.'
'Dear Julien,
I don't trust you. I don't think you understood me clearly enough when I said "Don't go to Africa because you will contract cholera AND DIE." I think you are trying to subvert my wishes and purposefully not registering for your bac. Therefore, I take it upon myself to register for you. You will find your registration package soon. Don't subvert me on this, Julien. You will take the bac. You will faire polytechnique. You will live the life that your father and I worked so hard to give you. Study hard.
Love, Maman.'
"Julien, sweetheart." Jean closed the door softly behind him.
Julien was busy shredding the letters that his Maman had sent him. "Go away, Jean," he sniffed.
"I won't. I love you." He sat down beside Julien. "And I can't. We share this room." He pressed a kiss against Julien's temple and hugged him tight.
"Do you think I should just give up Congo?"
"Why?"
"Because it's crazy. Because it's going to take me years to get to priesthood and how can I even be a priest when we're living this life of sin?"
"God loves all his children. One sin over a lifetime of good? He'll forgive you for that."
Le School
The whisperings at school started, quietly at first. That Jean and Julien seemed cozy, even for good friends. That they spent all their time together. That once, a classmate had seen them getting it on in an empty classroom. That one was a lie. But it was still repeated through the hallways.
"Jean!" Julien sighed as Jean sat bolt upright and screamed. "This is the sixth time this month!"
"I'm sorry, I really am."
"Talk to me, Jean. You've been shutting me out. Tell me what's going on in your nightmares."
"No."
Julien was startled by the finality of his statement. "What?"
"No, I… I can't talk about it with you."
"Come on. What could be so terrible that you can't even tell me?"
"A lot of things, actually."
"Please, Jean. I just want to help you."
"If I told you, you would want nothing to do with me anymore."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah." They lay back down and Julien wrapped himself around Jean.
"Please?"
"No."