by Rhys Everly
To fuck him out of my system, because that was the only solution I could think of to getting Hudson off my mind.
The second, of course, would be meeting Sweet_Peaches so I could picture him instead, but considering he didn’t want to meet, that wasn’t much of a solution. Just another problem.
“Are you okay?” Hudson turned to ask me.
I reached for the glass of water on the table to distract myself and nodded slowly while taking a sip.
“Sorry. I spaced out,” I said when I set the glass back down.
“I’m done. I’ve got a few questions, but first, what did you think of my essay?”
I sighed deeply, picked up the essay, and put my tutor cap on. I had to be professional or I wouldn’t be able to help him graduate.
“It’s really good,” I said.
“You can be honest,” he said.
“I am. It’s got a fair few typos. You need to be careful with those. Always double-check. Always proofread. But it’s really good. Actually, it’s extremely good.”
“Really?”
I forced myself to look back at him and almost lost my self-control and leaned in to kiss those gorgeous pale pink lips to reassure him.
“I don’t know why you think English isn’t your strength. You are actually very good—”
“But I can’t spell,” he interrupted.
“Hudson, honey.” My eyes widened when I realized what I’d said, and I didn’t fail to see his lips wrinkle into a delicate smile.
Why did he have to be so cute? I’d never be rid of this erection if he kept this up.
“Even professional writers can’t spell perfectly.”
“But I’m not a writer.”
“You could be,” I said.
Hudson scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Sure.”
“Really. You are very talented. Your writing is poetic. Your voice is engaging and funny. Have you ever thought of being a writer? Professionally, I mean?”
Hudson laughed.
“Come on, Nate,” he said, my nickname sounding haunting on his lips after all these years. “Stop pulling my leg. You can be honest.”
I pursed my lips and glared at him.
“Do you think I’d sugarcoat anything for you after what you put me through in high school? I’m not pulling your leg. I’m telling you the truth.”
Hudson stared at me for a few long moments before shaking his head and turning his gaze back on the desk.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start. How does one become a professional writer? Doesn’t everyone want to be one?”
“Maybe. Not everyone should,” I laughed. “And… if you want to explore your options, I can get some resources. Craft books and research. I’ve got a friend who self-publishes her books, and she makes enough money to pay for college.”
He looked at me again with that same delicate smile that was so kissable and asked me, “Really? What kinds of books?”
“Erotic books,” I said.
It was nothing to be ashamed of. She definitely wasn’t. And if anyone dared put her down for what she wrote, like a lot of her pretentious Creative Writing professors, she gave them a piece of her mind.
Actually, she once even pulled out her income statement and asked to compare it to her Poetry Professor when he told her erotica wasn’t serious writing.
Let’s just say she never stepped foot in his class again.
“Really?” Hudson raised an eyebrow, and of course my dick liked it, perking up again in my jeans.
“Oh yeah. They’re filthy and soooo good,” I croaked.
Even though they weren’t my cup of tea—reading about cocks in vaginas was nothing I had any remote interest in—they actually were mildly arousing to read. And entertaining.
“I can tell you her name to look her up if you want,” I said, more because I was curious about his reaction than because I thought he’d be genuinely interested.
Hudson dragged a piece of paper across to me and smiled.
“Sure. I’d love to.”
Seriously, Hudson?
That did not help with stopping the sex fantasies whatsoever.
Because, straight away, I imagined him in bed, hand under the elastic of his jogging pants, reading a steamy scene and rubbing one off along with the characters.
I let out an exhale and straightened my back a little on the chair to ward off the dirty thoughts and to write down her name.
When I was done, I realized the paper was the reunion invitation card.
“Are you going to that?” I asked.
It’d been a good few days since I’d thought about the stupid reunion thanks to how busy Kyle was getting working at the bar.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t planning to, but...”
“But?”
“But then I bumped into you.”
I cocked my head to the side and inquired further.
“Well, I wanted to go and apologize to you,” he said. “But since I see you every other day now…”
“You’d really go back to that hellhole just for me?”
Was he seriously telling me all this when I was already dangerously attracted to him?
“Yeah. Well, that and the fact I’d love to smash Derek’s face in. But mainly for you. Are you going?”
“I don’t want to, but Kyle’s forcing me to go,” I said.
“And Kyle’s your…” he asked, biting his upper lip.
Was Hudson…
Was he jealous?
“Best friend,” I said.
A smile crept up back on his lips.
“Why is your best friend forcing you to go?”
“Because he doesn’t understand that I don’t have a secret admirer, and that everyone hated me in high school.”
“I didn’t hate you,” he said
I scoffed.
“Had a nice way of showing it,” I said.
“I know. I-I…the reason I was such a jerk was…” he kept pausing as if unsure what he wanted to say, then said, “Everyone hated me. Not you, Nathan.”
I tried to decode him. To understand what he’d wanted to tell me. To make sense of him. But I couldn’t.
“Why do you wanna smash Derek’s face?” I asked instead.
Hudson turned around and huffed.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
Hudson got off his chair and walked around in the room.
“You wouldn’t believe me anyway,” he said.
“Try me.”
Hudson collapsed on his bed.
“Please,” I persisted.
He sat up on the bed and stared at me. I stared at him. We stared at each other.
“I didn’t set fire to the gym,” he said.
“I know,” I said.
“You do?” he scoffed.
“Hudson, I saw you leave, remember? It would have taken you at least half an hour to go home and come back. And the fire started just before the end of the party.”
“How do you know I went home? How do you know I didn’t drive around the school and wait?” he asked with a blank face that gave me goosebumps with its submission.
“Why would you do that? Besides, the school doesn’t have a back lot. Unless you decided to drive your dad’s truck through the fields, which I’m sure the police would have found out about.”
“They found my lighter inside,” he said with the same tone.
Like he’d given up on me believing him.
“Are you trying to convince me you didn’t, or am I trying to convince you?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“I saw you pass your lighter around before you came to talk to me,” I said, going back to the last day I saw Hudson. To the day he’d tried to kiss me. “Now that I…you gave your lighter to… Derek? Did he set fire to the gym? Is that why you blamed him?”
“No one believes me,” he said.
“I do,” I said.
“You don’t.”
; “Look, I may hate you...” I said, but the word hate tasted revolting in my mouth. “Hated you back then, but I tried to tell the police. I knew you didn’t do it then, and I certainly know now.”
Hudson’s gaze moved slowly to me, his grey eyes wet and needy. He got up and walked to me, then knelt in front of me, as if he was about to propose.
Or suck me off.
Depends on the fantasy.
“You-you mean you believe me?” he asked.
“I thought we’d already established that,” I said.
His smile assaulted me with its warmth. I almost leaned in to kiss him. I almost told him I liked the hell out of him. But I stopped myself.
Instead, he sat there at my feet and told me what happened.
How Hudson had given him the lighter to smoke pot, and while they were all smoking it, he told Derek about his scholarship—brand new information to me. How Derek was furious that Hudson had gotten a scholarship and he hadn’t. How he was playing with Hudson’s lighter like a deranged man on a mission.
I couldn’t believe he hadn’t been charged with anything. What further proof did they need?
And Hudson? He’d paid the price because of fucking Derek.
“Why don’t we make a deal?”
“What deal?”
“Let me finish, idiot. Let’s go together. Let’s stand up to Derek. Together.”
“You’d do that for me?” he asked.
I dipped my head, and my forehead touched his.
“Mainly for me. But yeah,” I smiled.
God, if I couldn’t get rid of my sexual fantasies about Hudson before, I wouldn’t be able to now; not with that beautiful and sweet grey gaze imprinted on the back of my eyes.
“What the hell are y’all doing here?”
The voice was so sudden and so terrifying that it made me jump. Hudson rushed to his feet.
I turned around to look at Hudson’s dad. Jack Bell. Grade-A douche and infamous bigot.
“Dad—” Hudson started.
“Why are you up here with another man? What do you think you’re doing?”
Wasn’t it obvious? And what the hell did he mean “with another man?” Was that a clue about Hudson’s sexuality? Why would Jack be concerned about Hudson spending time in his room with another guy? We’d practically grown up in this room.
“We’re studying, Dad. Will you stop shouting?”
“You can’t study downstairs?” Jack placed his hands on his hips, although one hand missed the hip on the first attempt.
Was this guy drunk or something?
“All my stuff is here, Dad. And this is my room,” Hudson said.
“Is that—is that Nathan Karajini?” Jack said, and the waft of alcohol assaulted my nose.
Yup. Definitely drunk.
“It’s Karagiannis,” Hudson said before I could correct him.
“What the hell is that faggot doing here?” he said.
I gasped.
Had he…
Had he just called me…
What the fuck?
Was this guy for real?
“Excuse—” I raised my voice.
“Shut the fuck up, Dad,” Hudson said over me.
“Watch your tone with me, boy. You brought that… thing in here while I’m out in town trying to get our business back on its legs after what you’ve done?”
Had he just called me a… thing?
I’m gonna chop your thing off, dildo.
The audacity of that man.
How could Hudson live with him?
Jack had never been a charmer, but he’d never been so rude, either.
Was that what Hudson had to live with all these years? Was that the kind of behavior he had to put up with? The kind of bullshit he had to listen to?
Was it any surprise he’d turned to bullying when he was being bullied at home like that?
Was it his fault he’d acted up?
Maybe it was his way of asking for help. Of asking to be saved from this douchebag. His way of reaching out.
And we’d all turned our backs on him.
I’d turned my back on him. Instead of persisting and asking for an explanation.
He’d betrayed me, and that was all I could see.
Maybe it was his way of telling me “I need your help, Nathan.”
“What’s he talking about? Why get the business back on its legs?” I asked Hudson, ignoring his Dad for a moment.
“That’s none of your business,” Jack said.
“Felicity Carlson. I bumped into her the other day doing a delivery at the Oyster Club, and she went bat-shit that they were using us as suppliers. She’s started a campaign to boycott us,” Hudson said.
“What? She can’t do that. Why would she do that?”
I knew the answer, of course. Hudson had blamed Derek for the fire back then, but without sufficient evidence or eyewitnesses, there was nothing to do but let him go.
“Oh really? And what are you gonna do about it?” Jack said in a high-pitched voice, mockingly. “Get out of here.”
Hudson touched my arm, the tingles rushing through to my heart.
“I think it’s better if you go,” he said with heavy eyes.
I didn’t want to leave him alone with that dickhead. I wanted to take him with me. But I didn’t want to make things any harder for him than they were already.
“Text me,” I pleaded with him, piercing him with my gaze.
I hoped he understood I meant more than just text me when you want to study again. I hoped he got that I meant text me to tell me you’re okay.
“And as for Felicity Carlson,” I told Jack as I approached the gap on the floor where the stairs were, “I’ll see what I can do about the boycott.”
I knew Maya would take great pleasure looking into it with me. And we’d find out what the hell she was up to.
I left Hudson with a heavy heart and drove off into town and our home. Maya was there with Summer when I walked through the door, Yaya peeling potatoes in front of the TV.
“Here are your keys,” I signed and said at the same time, “Thanks for lending me the car.”
You’re welcome, Maya said. Are you ever gonna tell me where you went?
Maybe, I said. “Do you guys know Felicity Carlson is trying to boycott Bell Farms?”
Yaya turned to look at me over her glasses.
“Is she now? Well, surprise, surprise. She hates that kid.”
“Yeah, but that’s no excuse,” I said.
“James is in my class,” Summer said. That was Derek’s younger brother. Thankfully he hadn’t turned into a full-blown bully like his brother yet. According to Summer, he was more arrogant than anything.
“Okay,” I said. “Your point is?”
“Watch how you talk to your sister,” Yaya scolded me.
“He was saying his mommy is gonna be the mayor soon, and he’d be moving to a private school,” Summer said.
“Oh dear Lord. When we thought we were finally done with the Carlsons,” Yaya groaned.
“Say, Maya, want to pop by Mayor Torres’s office with me?” I asked and signed.
Santiago was a family friend. If anyone had a solution to this problem, it’d be him.
Always game for causing trouble, Maya replied with a smirk.
Fourteen
Hudson
I couldn’t believe what happened today.
Why had Nathan been so nice to me? Why had he made a deal with me? Why did he look at me like I meant something to him?
I’d hurt him over and over again. I didn’t deserve his kindness.
But… but he believed me.
And that mattered the most.
He’d come so close to me. For a minute I thought he was gonna kiss me. If I didn’t kiss him first.
And if only that asshole hadn’t walked in, who knew what could have happened.
He had to come in and ruin it all. Not just my chance at finding out what Nathan really felt about me, but ruining our lesson.
>
I still couldn’t believe he told me I was good at writing. No one had ever complimented me on anything. Not for a very long time.
But Nathan believed in me. He thought I had some goodness in me. That I wasn’t a liar.
Then again, he had said he hated me.
How could I believe that, though, when he’d put his forehead on mine as if we were still best friends? As if we’d never been apart. As if I’d never betrayed him.
“I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again. I won’t have a faggot son,” he shouted not long after Nathan had left.
“I’m not… a…” I couldn’t say it. Which was ironic considering it used to roll off my tongue so easily back in high school. Back when I didn’t know who or what I was. Or what I felt for Nathan. What to call it.
“You spend too much with that faggot, he’ll turn you. Is that who’s been teaching you? That stupid kid?” he went on.
“Nathan is not stupid, Dad.”
“He and his family are all perverts. Have you not read the papers? That uncle who’s a sissy, and that monkey? They say he dresses up like a woman.”
I almost threw up. He wouldn’t shut up either.
“Luke is not a monkey, Dad,” I said through gritted teeth. “Stop being such an asshole. To everyone. That’s why Carlson is boycotting us. Because she hates you. Not me. Everyone hates you. You think you’re better than everyone, but have you looked at your life, ever? Your wife left you because she hated you. You’re no better than any one of us.”
“What did you say?” he growled. “Did you dare take that tone with me? After everything I’ve done for you?”
He walked toward me slowly, and I took steps backward. I didn’t know what he might do.
“You forget all the sacrifices I’ve made. Your mother left both of us. Not just me. She left you. I should have thrown you out of my house the minute the police came knocking on my door. But no. I stood by your side. I took your side. And you took everything from me.”
My tears streamed down before I could even feel them forming. I wanted to run. To go away. To leave before he made me.
But I had nowhere to go.
No one to turn to.
There was nothing I could do but take his abuse.
Only for the next few months until I raised some money and passed my GED. Then I could leave this shithole behind me and this man for good.
