by Jay Bell
“The new software came in,” she said, walking over to join him.
“For the tests?”
Rebecca nodded enthusiastically. “We’ve got graphs! And it pinpoints areas that need to be strengthened. I have no idea how accurate it is, but this might save some guesswork. Come see!”
Nathaniel shook his head ruefully as she led him toward one of the computers. He might like it here, but Rebecca loved it. He wasn’t as fond of computers as she was, preferring to rely on direct interaction with each student. After enough enthusiastic nodding to convince Rebecca he was equally excited, he was free to start working. He sat down with a third-grader who despised math. She understood all the concepts correctly but abhorred doing the work, so Nathaniel focused on teaching her as many shortcuts as possible.
While he was doing so, he felt someone watching him. He glanced over at the next desk. A high school student, although Nathaniel couldn’t remember if they went to the same school or not. The guy had bronze skin, dark hair pulled back into a pony tail, and thick framed glasses that appeared black at first glance but were actually dark red. Nathaniel gave a friendly upward nod in greeting before turning his attention back to tutoring.
Except he continued to feel that gaze. Every time Nathaniel checked again, the guy would quickly avert his eyes. He didn’t seem to be doing anything but ignoring the computer in front of him. Rebecca must have noticed because she went to investigate.
“So I add the first column before the last one?”
Nathaniel shook his head to clear it and explained the trick once more. Halfway through, Rebecca offered to take over. “He wants to work with you,” she said.
“Oh, okay.” That wasn’t so unusual. When students did well, they often sought out the same tutor during their next visit. Sure enough, when Nathaniel pulled up a chair, the guy revealed a paper they had worked on together. He held it clutched to his chest, like it was precious.
“Ninety-eight percent,” he said, voice almost too faint to hear.
“Just ninety-eight?” Nathaniel teased. “Let me see that.”
The guy licked his lips and held out the paper, the pages still warm from being pressed against his body. Nathaniel casually checked the name in one corner. Caesar Hubbard. Of course! How could he forget a name like that? Then he flipped through the pages until he spotted a circle of red ink around one word.
“We misspelled ‘intellectual,’” Nathaniel said. He glanced up in time to see Caesar smile. “That’s embarrassing. Remember when we ran the spell check?”
Caesar nodded. “You thought the computer was wrong.”
“I figured it was recommending the British spelling or something. I guess you’re here because you want a refund?”
Caesar’s grin widened before he bashfully forced it away. “My parents said I’m supposed to work with you from now on.”
“They must think I’m an intellectual,” Nathaniel said with a wink.
Caesar’s cheeks turned red. Then he broke eye contact, staring downward instead. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a great joke. Nathaniel considered him for a moment, the light sweat and the even lighter hairs barely visible on his upper lip. How old was he? Fifteen? Sixteen? He definitely wasn’t a senior yet or Nathaniel would have noticed him before. “So what are we working on today?”
Caesar opened his backpack and pulled out a sophomore biology book. In a voice so quiet Nathaniel was forced to lean forward to hear, he rambled nervously about an upcoming test. For the next hour, Nathaniel helped him study for it, teaching him techniques to simplify memorization. Caesar hung on his every word but seemed to have few of his own, only speaking when Nathaniel asked direct questions. At the end of an hour, once Caesar had demonstrated a thorough understanding of the scientific method, Nathaniel got him started on a computer test and moved to the next student. By the time he looked over again, Caesar was gone. A big red “completed” flashed on the computer screen. Nathaniel went to check the results.
Perfect score. Not bad! Nathaniel saved the information to Caesar’s profile. Then he turned his attention to the next student. By the time he was finished working and had stepped outside, the sun had gone down. He had mixed feelings about this. Not for the first time, he wished the learning center had longer hours. He stood facing the parking lot, trying to ignore any thoughts that caused his stomach to churn. When he felt a hand on his back, he flinched.
“Easy cowboy,” Rebecca said. Her fingers continued down his back, angling across to his hand. Once she had taken it, she loped toward her car, dragging him along. “Smoke a cigarette with me?”
“No thanks. You managed to get more?”
“Kind of.” Rebecca opened the passenger-side door and dug around. When she stood again, she was holding a blister pack.
“Is that nicotine gum?”
Rebecca sighed. “Desperate times. You know the freshman I used to buy cigarettes from who stole them from his mother? She quit smoking.”
“Good for her.”
“Bad for me. My parents have been on to me for years, so I finally ’fessed up.”
“So they would buy you the next best thing.” Nathaniel shook his head. “If only you would use your powers for good and not evil.”
Rebecca smiled shamelessly before popping the gum in her mouth. Then she relaxed visibly, even though the effects couldn’t have kicked in yet. “That’s better. I thought I’d never make it through the day.”
“If it’s gum, why did you wait until you’re outside?”
“The ritual is important! That’s why you’re here. Smoking is a social activity.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
Rebecca shrugged. “Everyone should have a vice. You could do with one. It would make you more interesting.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely. Any ideas?”
Nathaniel leaned next to her against the car. “Boys.”
Rebecca breathed out, as if exhaling smoke. “Okay. What’s your type?”
This gave him pause. “I don’t really have one.”
“You must. What sort of guy do you find yourself lusting after?”
Nathaniel shrugged.
“Seriously?” Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re gay?”
“Last time I checked, yeah.”
“But have you ever done anything with a guy?”
“Have you?” When she looked hurt, he hastened to add, “I’m just a lowly virgin. We both are.”
“Yeah, but I figured you managed more than I have. A kiss or a little dry humping maybe.”
Nathaniel laughed. “There was this one guy.”
Rebecca smacked her gum more enthusiastically. “What happened?”
“This is back when I lived in California. My friend’s parents both worked full-time. They had this porn video. Not like the stuff you see online. This was totally retro, like seventies. All the guys had mustaches, and trust me when I say you’ve never seen so much bush in your life. It’s like they had afros downstairs instead of up.”
“Ew!”
“Yeah, but the video got my friend all riled up. One day he suggested that we—” Nathaniel made a pumping motion with his fist.
Rebecca stopped chewing so her jaw could drop. “Together?”
“Yup.”
“And did you?”
“Of course! The first time I didn’t even let myself look at him, because I was worried it would give me away. The next time, I saw him checking me out. He even complimented me on… Uh, anyway. This went on for a while.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” Nathaniel said, smiling at the memory. “That’s not all.”
“I’m going to need another piece of gum,” Rebecca said. “Keep talking.”
“Okay. Right before we moved, like the day before, I figured I didn’t have anything to lose. I reached over and knocked his hand away. Then I grabbed his you-know-what, and started pumping like my life depended on it. When he did the same for me, I realized we cou
ld have been doing that all along.”
Rebecca’s cheeks were red, but she smiled. “Lucky!”
Nathaniel considered the pavement around his feet. “I guess. The next day wasn’t so great. I’m used to moving every few years, but that one hurt.”
“Oh. You liked him.”
“A little.” Nathaniel bit his bottom lip, then forced a smile. “Just a crush. No big deal. He never answered my emails, so I don’t think it was mutual.”
When he looked up again, he found Rebecca studying his face.
“That bruise still looks nasty,” she said.
“It’ll fade.”
“You need to tell someone.”
“Rebecca…”
“I know, but I’m sure your mom will—”
“Becky!”
That shut her up. If there was one thing they both hated, it was cutesy abbreviated names. Especially since their parents were so fond of them. He and Rebecca only used them when the other person was seriously misbehaving.
“Staying silent is your choice, Nate, but you can’t stop me from worrying.”
“Fine.”
“I want to kill the bastard.”
“I know.” He fixed her with a pleading expression, begging her to change the subject.
After a moment her features relaxed, but she continued to study his face. “How often do you shave?”
“Every other day.”
“So if you stopped, you would end up with a full beard. Right?”
He allowed himself to look offended. “I’m not aging myself prematurely just to buy you cigarettes.”
“Come on! Just think how rugged you’ll look!”
“No way.”
“Fine.” Rebecca slumped. Then she perked up again. “Shoplifting is a vice. Ever give that a try?”
He playfully pushed her away. When she came back and wrapped an arm around his waist, Nathaniel put one around her shoulders. Then he hugged her and tried not to think of how, eventually, he would have to return home again.
* * * * *
Meatloaf, green beans, and mashed potatoes. Nathaniel worked methodically on consuming massive portions, his mother sitting across from him with watchful eyes. She needn’t have bothered. Cleaning his plate had never been an issue for him, but he knew she couldn’t rest until certain he wouldn’t starve.
“Want me to get your father?” she asked.
“I think I can manage on my own,” Nathaniel said.
“We’re having a family meal this week, even if it means tying each one of you to a chair.”
Nathaniel managed a smile. “What’s dad doing?”
“Watching one of his boring documentaries.”
He kept his attention on the plate, his tone neutral when he asked, “Where’s Dwight?”
Star exhaled. “You know your brother, always chasing after some girl.”
“He’s on a date?”
“If you can call it that. Did you know he broke up with Angela? I was shocked too. She was the sweetest girl. Pretty as can be. I thought for sure—”
Nathaniel tuned out the rest of her comments, his jaw feeling less stressed. Finally able to relax, he tackled his food with renewed gusto, finishing in record time.
“Want to watch TV with us?” Star asked, standing to take his plate.
Nathaniel hopped up and grabbed it before she could, taking it to the sink. “Watch TV? In your bedroom?”
“You’re not too old to cuddle up with your parents,” Star said, opening the dishwasher.
“When exactly will I be too old? Forty?”
“Nope. You’ll still be my baby.”
Nathaniel made a face. “I think I’ll pass. I need to burn off some of these carbs.”
After suffering a kiss on the cheek, he went to the back of the house. To the gym, as Dwight called it. Nathaniel wasn’t sure if a weightlifting bench, some yoga mats, and a treadmill qualified as a full-blown gym, but he wasn’t stupid enough to argue the point. He stripped down to his boxers, stopping in front of the mirror. He had a darker shade of his mother’s blonde hair, the bangs just long enough to frame hazel eyes like those of his father.
The height he inherited from his mother’s side, his grandfather in particular, since Nathaniel was a few inches taller than both his father and brother. He only wished he shared their build. Six months of lifting weights had not yielded the desired results. He had enough muscle to make his pecs bounce, his shoulders had grown meaty, and flexing his arms revealed nice curves that hadn’t been there a year ago. But it wasn’t enough. Dwight had played baseball his freshman year, had been a wide receiver on the football team sophomore year and a quarterback the next. The trophies in the room attested to how athletic he was, and on any other guy, his body would have been drool-worthy. That all those muscles belonged to Dwight gave Nathaniel nightmares. Literally.
No need to despair. A good body and the strength that came with it were within anyone’s grasp. So claimed his favorite advertisement. He went to the side table and picked up a workout magazine. It flopped open in his hands, its bent spine leading to the page he so often stared at. The model wore nothing but simple red shorts, the bulge beneath a source of many fevered fantasies. Nathaniel rarely lingered on this detail since the body was sculpted perfection. The veiny arms were nice, as was the six-pack, which Nathaniel envied because he had yet to find his own. The chest intrigued him the most. It was wide and densely covered with muscle, reminding him of an ancient Roman breastplate. Surely that mighty chest could protect Nathaniel. Or be a pillow for him to rest his head against after he’d been rescued. He let his attention dart up to the face, the eyes watery and sensitive, as if understanding his pain. The guy looked like a hero. His hero.
Nathaniel let himself bask in the fantasy, his hormones kicking in. Deciding to channel them in the right direction, he bent back the spine of the magazine and propped it up on the table for extra motivation. Then Nathaniel headed to the weight bench and got to work. Every repetition brought him closer to his dream, the sting of sweat in his eyes and the salty taste on his tongue spurring him onward. He was on his back, hands clenching the barbell as he did a series of bench presses, when an upside-down face appeared above him.
And a handsome face it was. A strong jaw, a crooked smile, and deep blue eyes that gleamed beneath jet black hair. The expression was kind, but as usual, the intention was cruel.
“Working out, baby brother?” Dwight said. “Need someone to spot you?”
“No,” Nathaniel said, trying to stay calm. Glancing over to see that Dwight had closed the door did little to soothe his nerves. “Just finishing up.”
“You’re looking a little shaky. Here.” Dwight took hold of the barbell and suddenly the weight felt light as air, his brother not showing any sign of strain. “Slow and steady is the key. A lot of guys thrust, like they want the weights to hit the ceiling. That’s not how it’s done. First you go down…”
Dwight relinquished control, the barbell growing heavy again, but his hands remained, keeping it steady.
“…and back up again. And down. That’s it. Nice and smooth. You train as much muscle on the way back down, but only if you work to maintain control. You feel that burn?”
Nathaniel nodded, eyes locked on Dwight’s, searching for any warning sign.
“Elbows at a ninety degree angle. Good. Back up… and down. Up. And down. Up and… down!”
Dwight’s arms flexed as he pressed. Hard! Had Nathaniel not been braced for something like his, the barbell would have smashed into his chest, crushing his lungs. Instead, Nathaniel pushed back, arms shaking, tissue tearing.
“Mom asked me about that bruise on your face,” Dwight said, his smile a grimace now. “Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know,” Nathaniel grunted. “I didn’t say anything, I swear.”
“You’d have to be pretty fucking stupid to, which is exactly why I’m worried.” Dwight pushed down harder, the metal bar pressing against Nathaniel’s neck,
making it hard to breathe. “You sure you didn’t say anything? How stupid are you, Nate? Huh? Tell me how stupid you are!”
“Not… stupid,” Nathaniel managed to grunt. Gritting his teeth, he summoned his last reserves and shoved. The barbell moved. Just a few inches, but it took the pressure off his windpipe. Dwight’s expression registered surprise. Then his face twisted up in rage, and Nathaniel felt like whimpering. He tried to remain strong—tried not to lose this small advantage—but Dwight leaned over, adding the weight of his body to the strength in his arms. The barbell came back down, cutting off Nathaniel’s oxygen supply.
Almost. He was still able to wheeze air in, but already he was getting lightheaded. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold out. As soon as his arms buckled, the full force of the weight would crush him. Nathaniel saw stars and realized this might be the day he died.
Then the barbell rose and was ripped from his hands. As his vision cleared, he saw Dwight placing it back on the rack before he looked down at him again, those blue eyes calm and collected, as if nothing had happened. “If that leaves a mark, ask yourself again how stupid you are. Understand?”
He tried to respond, but the sound that came out was pathetic and unrecognizable. Dwight smiled, then turned and left the room.
Nathaniel sat up, panting to catch his breath, blood pounding in his ears. He stared at the image in the propped-up magazine, at the look of pure sympathy. Or maybe the expression was apologetic, because his hero had failed him. Nathaniel stood, picked up the magazine and tossed it aside. After forcing himself to calm down, he returned to the weight bench and lay his back flat against it. The guy in the magazine advertisement was no hero, nor would he ever come to his rescue. That left only one option.
Steeling himself, Nathaniel picked up the barbell and continued working out.
* * * * *
“Rise and shine, honey.”
