Chapter 26 – Simo #2
To my surprise, Jacob’s words ring true.
In Luca’s portrait, he’s chaotic and golden, a boy who bakes.
He’s Luca the son, Luca the friend, Luca the boy who likes another boy.
He’s everything I can’t explain. I believe poets do the same thing, using images to describe things that hold too much meaning to fit into everyday words.
From my vantage point, I watch people enter the library, timid at first, until Joni descends upon them with snacks and lemonade.
Louise is down there, with her school reporter hat on, a camera around her neck and a notepad in her hands.
Maz has his arm around Luca’s shoulders and they’re chatting with Daniel, while Olive chases Orlando around the room.
In Daniel’s portrait, Olive is dressed in a yellow and purple bandana and snoozes in his arms.
My attention snags on Mairi, who appears on the other side of the balcony. In her heels and with her braids piled atop her head, she has to duck to avoid the ceiling.
‘Can I hide with you?’ she asks. ‘My mum just arrived, and as supportive as she is, I don’t need a live reaction when she sees my portrait.’
I shuffle over to make space for her. ‘It’s a good picture though,’ I say, thinking of Mairi in front of a wall graffiti that shows two figures locked in an embrace in a purple-tinted scene of paradise. ‘I had no idea you did street art.’
‘Lombard isn’t exactly big enough to follow that passion without finding yourself on Pickering’s naughty list. But it’s a good creative outlet,’ she explains.
‘And thanks, anyway. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but I’m glad I chose to take part in the end.
It’s an important project. Not sure I would’ve figured out that I’m pansexual without it.
’ Her voice drops at those last words, as if she’s still testing out how it feels to say them.
‘I’m happy you did,’ I say slowly, understanding that it must’ve cost her to share this with me, and aware that I can’t return the compliment, not yet. Things with Luca are too new, and I don’t want to think about how people in Lombard would react after everything that’s happened since the summer.
My eyes find Luca again. He must have said something funny, because Maz is chortling away, until his gaze strays to the entrance and his laughter dies.
A couple steps into view, as always dressed head to toe in clothes that are completely out of place in a humble town like Lombard.
Maz pulls Luca to his chest, a human shield to ward off his parents.
Luca looks just as unsure but drops his guard when first Anna and then Graham give him a hug.
Maz remains on edge, never letting go of Luca.
He doesn’t speak, only studies his parents as they study his portrait.
I know what’s going through his mind. I’m familiar with that chest-crushing fear that your parents are about to see you for who you are and will think less of you for it.
Several seconds pass. I hold my breath all the while, then watch as Graham lifts his arm and covers Maz’s hand with his, where Maz still grips Luca’s shoulder. Graham gives a small squeeze before removing his hand again, and though the gesture may be small, I know Maz will remember it forever.
‘You know, you played a part in why I agreed to do it,’ Mairi says next to me. For a second, I’d forgotten she was there, and I blink at her in confusion. ‘You and Luca kind of helped me open up to my mum,’ she clarifies.
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, not sure I follow.
She plays with the beads in her hair while she chooses her words.
‘I know that you two aren’t really a thing, despite what the noticeboard said.
But I still got caught up in the frenzy of it all, like most of Lombard.
And it made me realise that maybe this town was more accepting than I gave it credit for. ’
‘Because people were shipping us?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, everyone was rooting for you. I wanted to show my support, so I sprayed a few hearts on the bike shed.’ She smiles to herself, not realising that my mood is taking a tumble.
‘Did you create any other . . . signs of support?’ I ask. Something in my voice snags her attention, and when she sees my expression, the smile drops.
‘I didn’t, no. Though I know other students who did,’ she says hurriedly. ‘But I don’t think they meant any harm.’
‘Who else?’ I follow her gaze downstairs, and at first I think she means Jacob, but it’s the person he’s talking to. ‘Louise?’
‘She drew a few hearts and made a bauble for the Christmas tree in the square. I thought it was cute.’
‘It wasn’t,’ I say. ‘What is wrong with people? Don’t they have their own lives to worry about?’
There’s a hint of guilt in Mairi’s eyes, but she only shrugs. ‘It gives them hope.’
‘How?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice from rising.
‘Just take a look,’ she says, and points to the people below. ‘Visibility goes a long way. Seeing other people step into themselves gives you a sense that things are going to be OK. Especially if you can’t fully be yourself, for whatever reason. It creates a safe space.’
‘I’m a person, not a safe space.’ I clench my hands around the bench to keep them from trembling.
‘I know that. And I realise that things went a bit far.’
‘A bit? While everyone was having a great time speculating about me and my feelings for Luca, I was panicking that our friendship would fall apart. It was shit.’
‘I’m sorry, Simo,’ she says, and I finally see understanding dawning on her face. ‘If it helps, people only want the best for you and Luca.’
I have a few comebacks on the tip of my tongue – like if they wanted what’s best for us, they’d have stayed the fuck out of my relationship and projected their creepy fantasies on some fictional couple – but I’m not going to get into a fight with Mairi in the middle of her coming-out moment.
I’d considered us friends. I excuse myself and find Luca among the crowd on the ground floor.
‘Hey, I’m gonna go. I need a breather.’ I want to take his hand, but my senses have gone into overdrive and the world feels too raw for touch.
‘Oh, yeah. Let me just tell Dad—’
‘No, you stay here. Celebrate. I need a moment for myself, to mull things over.’
‘OK,’ he says, and searches my face. He must sense my reservations, because he doesn’t attempt to reach out. ‘Call me though. If you want to hang out later.’
‘I will,’ I say, but I know that I’ll get an early night. I crave the relief of letting my messy thoughts spill out into the notebook. The tenderness in Luca’s eyes almost makes me change my mind, but I walk out of the library, glad to be breathing sea air.
When I get home, Dad is in the front yard, shifting pots around and adding new seeds to the flower beds.
He once told me that some daisies need to be planted a year before they flower.
I’m not sure I’d have the patience. I go into the kitchen, watch him brush dirt off the tiles outside.
When he joins me a few minutes later, I’ve finished off three Nutella sandwiches.
Hamza loved Nutella. Each birthday, he’d ask for a jar, and despite Mum’s disapproval, she gave in every time.
‘Don’t let your mum see that,’ Dad warns, and I dutifully hide the spread at the back of the cupboard. He washes his hands and makes himself a coffee.
‘Dad, why don’t we remember Hamza?’
I almost expect him to flinch at the mention of my brother’s name, but he only blinks slowly.
‘What makes you say that?’
‘There are no pictures of him in the house. And you guys don’t talk about him, ever. If I bring him up, Mum changes the topic.’
Dad takes a sip of coffee before he replies. ‘Your mum, she’s a very private person. She keeps things close to her heart. Doesn’t like to be vulnerable. A bit like you, you know? But she remembers him, every day. It’s impossible not to.’
‘So that’s why we don’t have pictures of him?’
‘No, that’s my decision. I don’t like pictures.
They freeze people in time. And Hamza – Hamza is free.
’ He looks out of the window as he speaks, but then his gaze lands on me.
‘But if you want, if pictures are how you want to remember him, you can pick some from your mum’s albums and hang them up.
She has a lot of them. Or you could do what I do. ’
‘Which is?’
‘Do you remember what Hamza’s favourite flower was?’
For a second, my mind is blank, and I’m terrified that I’ve started to forget my brother without realising. Then: ‘Daisies. He loved daisies.’
‘He did. So I make sure they don’t ever stop blooming.’