by C. C. Ekeke
Greyson’s eyes fell in shame. “I’ve tried.”
“Don’t try. Do,” Lauren said in disgust, but not for Greyson. “Him still blaming you is B.S.”
Greyson pulled from her grasp so he could face her. She made this sound so easy. “Imagine how Dad would feel if he knew the truth,” Greyson replied heatedly. “He’d disown me.”
Lauren didn’t look troubled by that. “Is that really a negative?” She cupped his face and kissed him, tugging on his lower lip.
Greyson smiled at this remarkable woman and her unyielding support. “God, I love you,” he murmured.
Lauren looked tickled, despite having heard this hundreds of times. “Love you too.” She rose, pulling him with her. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 4
This was Hugo’s strangest yet most realistic Titan dream ever. He and the superhero relaxing atop fluffy clouds on a sunny day, chatting like besties.
Hugo's “Titan dreams” had occurred occasionally since childhood. After Dad passed, the dreams happened weekly. Each one was different and so real, as if Hugo had actually spoken with Titan. Hugo never questioned why they occurred or why he recalled each dream. But those dreams kept him sane after losing Dad, many so-called friends abandoning him, and Baz’s bullying. Hugo had only told a few people, to not sound like a Looney Toon.
Abruptly, Hugo got jolted awake. He no longer floated on clouds or saw Titan’s square-jawed face. Hugo was alone in a bedroom decorated with posters of Titan and his world-renowned superhero team, the Vanguard. “Back to reality,” he grumbled, covering his face in a pillow.
Then Hugo remembered the dull ache in his chest, fighting back a burst of heartache. Mornings were the hardest. It had gradually gotten better as Hugo learned to live with his dad’s absence, though the ache and the rage seemed to never fully leave.
He brushed disheveled curls from his face, wondering what woke him. Hugo frowned at the vibrating cellphone on his nightstand.
Is this someone I can ignore? Only family on the East Coast or South Pacific called this early. Or Simon in an emergency.
Hugo yawned, leaning over to check the Caller ID. Sleepiness slipped off like a cloak.
He snatched the phone and answered. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Bogie,” Briseis El-Saden replied throatily, using a nickname only family and close friends called him. “You home?” It sounded like she was outside.
Hugo stood, fully alert. “Just woke up.”
“Great.” Brie sounded thankful. “Look out your window.”
Confused, Hugo brushed aside his window blinds, squinting away blaring sunlight. His house sat amid rows of model homes in residential Paso Robles, not far from its renowned wine country. Hugo spotted a slim girl leaning nonchalantly against a BMW parked across the street. Even in grey sweats, glasses, and her auburn hair piled in a slapdash bun, Briseis was a vision.
She beamed up at him and waved.
Hugo’s heart nearly burst with joy. He then blushed at his toplessness and the slight belly paunch. “I’ll be downstairs soon-ish.”
Brie made a face. “Soon-ish?”
Hugo scowled. “Five minutes, word police!” Throwing on a shirt and flip-flops, Hugo raced downstairs and flung the door open.
Brie stood at his doorstep. Briseis El-Saden, at his house.
“Hi,” he greeted as casually as his racing heart allowed.
She smiled. “Hey.” To his surprise, Brie drew him into a hug without prompting. As heavenly as Brie smelled, warm in his arms, he couldn’t ignore how thin she felt beneath her Paso High sweats. He hoped she was in better spirits today.
“What gives?” Brie asked after they pulled back. “Hadn’t heard from you in a few days.”
Hugo awkwardly glanced away. “You seemed irritated the last day of class. I was giving you space.”
“Oh.” Brie sighed and ran fingers through her hair in frustration. “Sorry for being so rude,” she admitted. “But you know how my girls are. You can’t come slobbering all over me like that.”
“I know.” Hugo cringed from the ugly memory. “I’m sorry.” Why did he always embarrass himself like that? “I screwed up. Again.”
Brie waved off the apology. “It’s okay.” She sat on the steps before the house entrance. “I wish you hadn’t used what I told you about Baz’s…self-love.”
Brie had told him that privately, grossed out. For some bizarre reason, she remained friends with Baz. “Asshole insulted my dad.” Hugo parked himself beside Brie, feeling no remorse. “Not sorry.”
Brie shrugged and grinned. “Yeah, he deserved that.” The two laughed, with Brie snorting between giggles. She hated her snort laugh. Hugo found her more irresistible because of it.
As wondrous as this surprise visit was, he noticed Brie wearing sneakers. She’s headed to tennis practice. Hugo realized why she came. “What happened?”
Brie stopped smiling. “Mumu’s riding me about my meal portions since Ramadan’s nearly over.” She rolled her eyes. “Full warpath. Certifiable!” Mumu, aka Miss Universe of the Mentally Unstable, was Brie’s moniker for her neurotic mother. The one-time runner-up for Greece’s Star Hellas pageant was where Brie got her beauty...and insecurities.
Hugo was fuming, eager to be her white knight. “Stop listening to Mumu,” he smoldered. “She’s insecure that you’re prettier, which is fucking weird.” Brie’s dad being a workaholic left her exposed to Mumu’s particular brand of parenting. Mumu's fat-shaming came from seeing Briseis more as pageant competition than a daughter. That fueled her binge eating followed by purging on the tennis court.
And the floodgates opened, Brie speaking on her older brother Ramses and the toll of lying to her parents to cover his closeted life. Hugo stayed silent, being Brie's pillar of strength as usual. She told him the deep, dark secrets even her squad didn’t know. This was the Brie no one else saw. Vulnerable, at times insecure, sweet, beautiful inside and out. Hugo had known how he’d felt about Brie since sixth grade. As her popularity increased, drawing attention from boys their age and older, she had no problems hanging out with Hugo in or outside of school. Then again, Hugo had been less needy and pathetic before last year.
Remembering how far he’d fallen, Hugo totally understood Brie’s embarrassment.
After finishing her rant, Brie leaned her head on his shoulder as tears sparkled in her eyes. “Just need to tolerate her until after our Paris Fashion Week Trip.”
Enthralled by her closeness, Hugo slipped an arm around her waist. “How I can help?” he whispered.
Brie turned her head. Their noses grazed. “This is perfect,” she spoke in husky, shaky tones. Like magnets, they moved closer. Hugo barely contained his excitement as their lips touched.
“No tongue, remember?” Brie warned. “Since we’re not together.”
“I know...” Hugo kissed her mouth. She eagerly responded, twisting her body so they faced each other. Hugo pressed in deeper, not using his tongue, cupping her face in his hands …
And the front door swung open. “Bogie?” A female voice startled Hugo and Brie apart. But not fast enough. “I’m leaving for—OHH! Omigod!”
Standing in the open door was a full-figured Samoan woman wearing maroon nurse scrubs. Her tumble of thick black curls was in a ponytail. She had a large flat nose like Hugo’s and dark, narrow eyes now bulging with shock.
The teens popped up faster than bread from a toaster. Hugo felt warmth flooding his cheeks and between his legs. Glancing at Brie revealed an equally flustered reaction.
“Hey, kids,” Hugo’s mother greeted without laughing. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Brie approached with a self-conscious smile. “Hi…Savelina.”
Mom stood on her tiptoes to hug Brie fiercely. “Talofa, Briseis. Great seeing you.”
“Likewise.” The teen girl melted into Mom’s embrace. Hugo watched and smiled. It was clear she’d become the surrogate mother that Brie desperately needed. Her calling Mom by her first name was st
ill weird, even after several months. But with how helpful she’d been after Dad’s death, the two had grown close. Mom now insisted Brie not call her Mrs. Malalou.
“So skinny,” Mom chided. “Are you eating?”
“I am,” Brie assured her. “I burn off food quickly. And Ramadan’s almost over.”
Mom glanced at Hugo. You noticed, too. She shook her head before he could interject.
“Alright. Off to work.” Mom disentangled from Brie and kissed Hugo on the cheek. “Tōfā soifua!” She headed to the Forerunner parked outside their garage. “Be back late. Look after your brother, okay?” Mom worked crazy long hours as an OR nurse at San Miguel General Hospital. Another of her many sacrifices as a single parent raising two teenage boys. She was the strongest woman Hugo knew.
He and Brie waved farewells as Mom drove away to begin her half-an-hour commute.
Once her car vanished, Hugo was struck with an awesome idea. He whirled about eagerly, startling Brie by grabbing her shoulders. “Let’s go out tonight.” They both needed this. And Hugo was sick of the secret meetings at each other’s houses.
Brie frowned. “What about watching AJ?”
Hugo shrugged off the concern. “He’s twelve. Give him video games and pizza, and AJ’s fine.”
Brie looked downward, undecided. “I don’t know…”
But Hugo felt overpowering confidence today. “We’re just hanging out, Breezy,” he insisted. “Whatever you wanna do. Even if it’s doing Jamba Juice.”
That won a snort laugh from Brie, revealing a wondrous smile as the morning sun broke through the clouds. “Let’s do it,” she agreed. Her green eyes gleamed with excitement.
“Great!” Hugo felt such happiness, he could’ve rocketed into the sky like Titan. “We’ll meet in Liberty Park around 7:30 PM. I’ll text details in a few hours!”
“See you tonight, Bogie!” Brie kissed his mouth again before driving off.
Brie’s visit and the anticipation of tonight carried Hugo through the day. He had all sorts of plans. A romantic walk, a stop at Beach Bum Burger and ice cream at one of downtown Paso’s gelato shops. Two hours before the date, Hugo put on his best Johnny Bahama shirt with cargo shorts. He gelled up his long wavy hair, even putting in earring studs he hadn’t worn in months. Hugo looked himself over in the mirror, pointing like a badass. “Looking good, my man.”
No need to tell Simon. Hugo didn’t need his Brie hate ruining tonight. Downstairs, he saw two twelve-year-olds parked in front of the 72-inch TV. The Samoan boy with the shaved head was his younger brother, Angelo Jr, burly and gaining on Hugo in height. The skinny white kid with a yellow shock of hair was his BFF Dallas from school.
Hugo glanced at the TV and gagged. “Extreme Dreams?” The reality show covered the Extreme Teens' personal lives. Friendships, family and romantic dramas, acting, public appearances, and music careers. Trying to watch one full episode was a jaw-clenching experience for Hugo. Lucas Shinoda, aka the speedster Blur, was onscreen, arguing with popstar girlfriend L.U.N.A.
Hugo found the “unscripted” drama hilarious. And it was another reason to dislike Olympian Worldwide’s corporate-sponsored heroes. Or 9-to-5ers, as Simon called them. “Can’t believe you guys watch this big slice of dog shit.”
AJ scowled but stayed glued to the screen. “Extreme Dreams is awesome.”
“It shows the Extreme Teens are kids like us,” Dallas added with his pearl of wisdom. “Except they’re superheroes with cool powers and bomb AF lives.” The kid was no Einstein. “Saving the world and shit.”
“The Extreme Teens aren't like us,” Hugo bristled, disgusted by the exploitation onscreen. Many child superheroes burned bright at first, only to flame out after a few years. Missy Magnificent, a former Extreme Teens member turned tabloid darling, was a perfect example. Same with the Sentinel’s former sidekick, whose name Hugo couldn’t recall.
Dallas rotated in his seat for a debate, his All-American good looks beaming. “So we should worship boring teams like the Champion Family or Vanguard?”
Hugo pointed at Dallas, checking for keys in his pocket. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Don’t you have a date?” AJ asked rudely.
“Only if you’re okay without me?”
AJ turned to his older brother. “Bogie. The house won’t burn down. We’ll be fine.”
Hugo was relieved, or Brie would have to meet him at the house. “Money for pizza’s right here.” He patted the three twenties on the countertop. “Be back in a few hours.”
“Good luck with Brie,” AJ teased, making unnecessary kissy faces. Dallas guffawed.
“Shaddup!” Hugo snapped, blushing again. His watch said 6:18, which gave him plenty of time to take the San Miguel Area Transit (SMAT) over to Liberty Square. “Alright; bye.” Hugo headed for the door. AJ and Dallas both said farewells, eyes glued to the TV.
The mugginess outside was cooling, thanks to the sunset. Pink and copper streaks slashed the darkening skies as Hugo walked to the subway ten minutes away. He felt good about tonight. Brie would finally see why they should be together.
“Helloooo, Hugo.” The airy-fairy chipper voice scared Hugo out of his Chuck Taylors. He turned toward the voice and smiled.
“Hey, Ms. Ortiz.” Hugo waved. Betty Ortiz stood on her porch in one of her colorful, shapeless robes like a pagan priestess. Her waist-length golden hair and oversized red-tinted glasses channeled a hippie vibe. She lived five houses away, constantly appearing out of nowhere like a ninja whenever Hugo passed by. Ms. Ortiz made her money from sculpting or painting or some other artsy shit. She had a constant spring in her step and some new sage affirmation. An eccentric yet friendly neighbor. Standing beside her was a cute eleven-year-old with a mop of bronze curls and a sullen look directed at Hugo.
“Hey, Zelda!” He waved to Ms. Ortiz’s daughter. The girl nodded in mute acknowledgement, the opposite of her mother’s friendliness and easy smiles. Whoever her dad was hadn’t been in the picture for years, and Ms. Ortiz harbored no regrets.
“You look quite fetching, young man,” the hippy woman complimented him with excessive circular hand gestures. “Your aura crackles with anticipation. What mischief are you formulating this evening?”
Yes, Ms. Ortiz really talked like that. “Date.” Hugo smiled, his heart soaring. “With the girl of my dreams.”
Ms. Ortiz brightened, clapping her hands. “Briseis, I gather? Lovely.” She knew all about Brie. After Dad’s death, Ms. Ortiz had been another regular at the house, helping Mom enormously during the depths of her grief. “Have good clean fun. But if it stops being good and clean, don’t forget a sexual prophylactic.”
Hugo’s smile curdled, along with his brain.
Zelda whirled on her mother in horror. “MOM! Gross!”
With that, Hugo rushed off before Ms. Ortiz offered more advice. “Goodnight, Ms. Ortiz.”
Unfortunately, he didn’t move fast enough to escape her proverb for Zelda. “Settle your tea kettle, ZiZi!” she scolded, still bright and shiny. “Kids today forget that kind of thing in the throes of orgasm—”
“OH! MY! GOD!” Zelda exclaimed. “Mom, PLEASE stop talking!” Hugo winced and laughed, continuing toward the nearby SMAT stop.
After a twenty-minute subway ride, Hugo got off at Liberty Square. A twenty-foot marble statue of Lady Liberty awaited him as he rode the escalator out of the subway, looking ready to take flight.
The park was packed with groups of friends, couples and families enjoying a summer evening. Hugo checked his watch. Ten minutes till seven. He parked himself on an empty bench and waited.
Around 7:15, he figured Brie was on her way and texted his location.
ME: Near the Lady Libby statue. Hugo wanted to add a heart emoji but stopped himself. Too much.
At 7:30, Hugo glanced around. No sign of Brie. “Probably running late,” he told himself hopefully.
Half an hour later, Hugo’s unshakeable optimism was cracking.
ME: Hey. You almo
st here?
An hour later, Liberty Square began emptying. Gloom bled into Hugo. Something inside him refused to give up. He texted again.
ME: Where are you? Everything okay? No response.
By 9:30 PM, Liberty Square was nearly empty when Brie finally replied. Hugo’s fleeting relief was quickly curbstomped.
Brie: I’M SOOOO SORRY!! Something came up and I lost track of time!
Hugo felt like his heart had been ripped out.
ME: So, tonight’s a no-go.
Brie: Can't come out this late. Sorry! No request to reschedule.
ME: Don’t worry. We’ll hang out another time. Hugo wrote that with indifference he didn’t feel,
No reply.
Hugo felt like an idiot of titanic proportions. He'd pictured each moment of the date as a movie scene, like confessing his feelings over a Beach Bum Double Decker cheeseburger. And Hugo got blown off again. Maybe Simon was right. He rose up, heart heavy and eyes watering. His first idea was to head for the SMAT entrance and go home. But he didn’t have the heart to explain this latest humiliation to AJ and his smartass friend. So Hugo took a walk through the thick trees beyond Liberty Square center. Sure, many of the walkways weren’t well-lit this late, but Hugo needed to clear his head.
He didn’t know how long he walked, lost in a haze of misery and self-flagellation.
Should’ve met earlier.
Shouldn’t have asked, knowing Brie had better things to do.
Should’ve asked her out on another day. Why, so Briseis could blow him off again?
Before long, Hugo found himself in a heavily wooded part of the park he didn’t recognize. The tree canopies were unruly silhouettes against the night skies. And for a couple minutes, strange whispers followed him. Alarmed, Hugo quickened his pace. Time to go home. The whispers grew nearer. Hugo’s self-pity became self-preservation. Speed-walking became jogging. Then his path was blocked.
Hugo stopped and stared at four silhouettes flanking him. He recognized them all. Only Brent Longwell was absent. “What…what are you doing here?”
One taller shadow stepped forward. Under a nearby lamp's light, his slicked-back hair and arrogant smile were visible. “Told ya payback was coming, Hugo,” Baz Martinez sneered. “Get him!”
