“You’re beautiful.”
His mother put a hand over his and managed a smile. “You make me proud. You know that?”
“I’m glad,” Nathaniel said, gently pulling away his hand. “I have to get going. If Dwight comes back, let Dad deal with him. Okay?”
His mother nodded distractedly. He watched her for a moment longer, wondering if he needed to fear for her, but he knew he didn’t. As usual he would be the one to take the brunt of Dwight’s anger. In this circumstance, he would do so willingly.
Nathaniel didn’t feel quite so noble when he stepped outside. His car was tilted at an odd angle. Sure enough, when he walked around the vehicle, he spotted a flat tire. The timing was no coincidence. Revenge. Just a down payment. The rest would come later. Nathaniel flipped his internal switch, preferring to feel numb rather than sorry for himself. Then he went to the trunk and dug around for the jack. The spare tire was low on air when he got it out, but it would be enough to get him to the nearest auto repair shop. Once there, he called Mr. Hubbard, leaving a voicemail explaining he would be late. It took almost an hour for the tire to be fixed, Nathaniel remaining detached inside. Once the tire was repaired, he drove to Caesar’s house.
Mrs. Hubbard opened the door. “We thought you decided not to show,” she said.
“I had car trouble,” Nathaniel replied. “I left a message with your husband.”
“Todd is out of town.” She pursed her lips before stepping aside so he could enter. “Caesar is upstairs with a friend. I’ll go get him for you.”
“No,” Nathaniel said quickly. “I don’t want to trouble you. I’ll run up myself.”
“Oh. Very well.”
Nathaniel hurried up the stairs before she could change her mind, wanting to avoid another awkward session at the dining room table. He found himself in an unfamiliar hallway with more options than he liked. He counted under his breath. Six doors! Of course he knew now that the Hubbards had quite a few kids, at least some of which were adopted. He stopped halfway down the hall, unsure how to proceed. A boy with a pug nose and freckles appeared, halting in his tracks when spotting him.
“Carrie or Caesar?” he asked.
“Caesar,” Nathaniel said. “I’m his tutor.”
The boy snorted, jerked a thumb over his shoulder at a door, then walked on. A moment later, Nathaniel heard a toilet seat clanking against the tank. Weird kid, but helpful. Nathaniel went to the door at the end of the hall. He was raising his hand to knock when he heard voices inside. Loud ones. A girl giggled before responding to a question. The other voice sounded cocky. He barely recognized it as belonging to Caesar, who was normally so soft-spoken. Nathaniel glanced back to make sure he was still alone and pressed his ear to the door.
“—cutting yours next,” Caesar was saying. “I’m thinking a flat top. Or a mohawk! Or maybe we’ll buzz it all off completely.”
“That wasn’t the deal,” the female voice responded. “Now hold still or I’ll cut you.”
“By accident?”
“Nope!”
A flushing toilet from farther down the hall prompted Nathaniel to stand upright again. He cleared his throat to avoid appearing stealthy. Then he knocked. The voices grew quieter, whispering to each other. He heard footsteps before the door swung open. A girl with a head full of black corkscrews stood there. Her eyes were equally dark, but they shone with amusement as they looked him over.
“Are you the tutor?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Nathaniel said. “I’m running a little late.”
“Fine by me,” she said, gesturing him inside.
He entered a bedroom larger than the one belonging to his parents. A bed was to one side, beyond it a loveseat and cluttered coffee table. Except for a few windows in the vaulted ceiling, the only light came from the attached bathroom where—
Nathaniel stared. Caesar was standing in the doorway, framed by light. He was shirtless, his bronze skin in full view. His body was lean, his shoulders broad, the muscles wiry. His waist narrowed as it disappeared into his jeans, the band of his underwear visible. His hair was currently down. On his left side it rested on his shoulder. On the other it had already been cut, but not drastically so. The length stopped just above his jaw line and appeared even shorter when Caesar brushed it behind one ear. He looked good. It wasn’t a full nerd girl twirl, since he still had on his glasses, but Nathaniel liked those anyway. He hadn’t minded the ponytail either, but he wasn’t sad to see it go. So much for Rebecca’s fight-or-flight theory, because Nathaniel had to force his eyes away.
“Should I go?” the girl asked. “I can finish cutting it some other day.”
“No way!” Caesar said with a laugh. Then he looked a little more shy. “Nathaniel, this is my girlfriend, Steph. Steph, this is my Nathaniel. I mean my tutor. Nathaniel. Uh.”
“You’re such a dork,” Steph said, rolling her eyes at Caesar. Then she cocked her head at Nathaniel, her long curls fluttering like a curtain. “I don’t suppose you know how to cut hair.”
Nathaniel smirked. “I’m not that kind of tutor.”
Caesar looked panicked. “You said you knew how to do this!”
“I figured it couldn’t be that hard,” she shot back. “I was wrong.”
Caesar’s face fell. “Oh crap. I’m ruined!”
“Looks like she’s on the right track,” Nathaniel said, following Steph so they could consider him up close. “Turn around.”
He stood off to one side, examining the jutting shoulder blades and the small of Caesar’s back. Then he remembered the bathroom mirror, which probably revealed him doing all of this, and quickly focused on the hair instead. It really did look fine. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Think I should trim around the ears?” Steph asked.
“No. Leave it long. See how it looks when you’ve done the rest. Then we can decide.”
He stepped back so she could get to work, happy for an excuse to stare at Caesar. He wished he could let his eyes wander wherever they wanted, but more than once, he saw Caesar’s reflection staring back at him. Nathaniel went to sit on the edge of the bed and glanced around the room. His impression of Caesar had always been of someone bookish and shy, but he saw no thick tomes or dusty stacks of fantasy novels. The room was little different than his own. Just as disorganized, although instead of movie posters on the wall, those here involved a video game, a bikini-clad model, and one of Eminem looking squinty and pouty. The television opposite the loveseat was nice. Widescreen, instead of the old 4:3 aspect ratio he had back home. Nathaniel had been saving up for a new TV. Maybe he should pull a Dwight and raid his college fund.
“You were right about the ears.” Steph plopped down on the bed next to him.
Nathaniel looked to where Caesar had last been, but the door was mostly shut now, the sound of a shower running beyond.
“I’ve been trying to axe that ponytail for months,” she continued. “I even had a dream about sneaking in here and cutting it off.”
Nathaniel refrained from sharing his own opinion of Caesar’s appearance. “How long have you guys been together?”
“A little over a year.”
“Geez.”
Steph eyed him. “Most people don’t wince when I tell them that.”
“I’m just surprised, that’s all. None of my friends have made it more than a few months.” He glanced over at her, trying to determine her age. “Are you a senior?”
“Oh, I like you!” Steph beamed at him. “I’m just a sophomore. What about you?”
“I’m a senior.”
“Uh huh. And how long have you made it before?”
“In a relationship?” Nathaniel thought about junior high, when a girl he hadn’t known had asked him out. They shared the same English class, but they never talked. He had said yes, because it had seemed the right thing to do. Then she started calling his house, which was awkward, because he never knew what to say. That had only lasted— “Two weeks.”
&
nbsp; “That’s it?” Steph looked surprised, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Oh I see. Now that I think about it, it’s obvious.”
Nathaniel resisted a gulp. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re a player, aren’t you?”
Nathaniel recovered enough to smile. “Busted.”
“Just don’t teach Caesar any of your moves.”
Nathaniel laughed nervously as the bedroom door opened. Mrs. Hubbard. Naturally. She looked at them both, then toward the bathroom.
“He’s taking a quick shower,” Steph explained. “We trimmed his hair.”
Mrs. Hubbard didn’t appear impressed. “He’s supposed to be studying.”
“I guess that’s my cue.” Steph shot him a ‘same shit, different day’ expression. “Have fun hitting the books.” She stood, grabbed her purse, and swept past Mrs. Hubbard, who ignored her.
“Would you rather wait downstairs?” she asked.
“Actually,” Nathaniel said, grasping for an excuse. “I thought we’d try studying in here. A familiar environment can be conducive to stronger focus. You know, fewer distractions, like siblings walking through the room.” Or overbearing mothers. This logic seemed to appease Mrs. Hubbard, who left him alone.
Nathaniel turned forward, listening as the water stopped, the last drops no doubt running down to Caesar’s pointed chin. Or down his neck, over that smooth chest, across his stomach and ending up at his— The shower curtain pulled back, the rings clattering along the pole, but the door wasn’t open enough to confirm his fantasies.
“It definitely feels better!” Caesar said. “I hated how it stuck to my back when wet.”
Nathaniel didn’t reply, feeling the words weren’t directed at him.
“Are you sure it isn’t too short?”
Again he stayed silent until Caesar’s head popped out from the door. “She went home,” he explained.
“Oh.”
His glasses were off, completing his nerd girl twirl, but the new look was no major revelation. Nathaniel had noticed his eyes before, and found him just as attractive with the glasses on. Definitely a cute guy. Steph was a lucky girl.
“Uh,” Caesar said. “I’ll be right out.”
The door slammed shut. Had Nathaniel been staring too long? He exhaled and tried to get himself into a professional mindset. Studying. Learning. Not toweling off a sopping-wet boy in his bedroom. When the bathroom door swung open, Caesar was dressed, this time with a shirt. The eyes behind the glasses darted in his direction and away again as he stood there awkwardly.
“What do you think?”
Nathaniel stood, like he just spotted his prom date coming down the stairs. What did he think? Impure thoughts, that’s what! He tried to focus on Caesar’s hair. Even wet, he could see the natural curl. Not like Steph’s hair. Not even close, but now that his hair wasn’t pulled back, Caesar’s locks were free to proceed in gentle waves across each temple and ear. He liked it but wasn’t dumb enough to say so. “It’ll grow back.”
Caesar looked crestfallen.
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Steph will love it. Try parting it on one side, not the middle. Yeah, exactly. Now if beauty hour is finished, maybe we could get to work.”
“Ugh.” Caesar checked the mirror once more, making a face. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to. It’s the weekend, you know.”
Nathaniel exhaled. “Yeah, but the next time your mom walks in here…”
Caesar walked to the bedroom door and pushed the lock in the knob. “Oops!”
Nathaniel liked that. A lot. And why not? Maybe this was the sort of bonding Mr. Hubbard had been hoping for. He only wondered how they would fill the time. He glanced around for inspiration, noticing a framed photo of a sports team hanging on the wall. He moved closer to examine it. About twenty guys were lined up in three rows, all of them wearing sky-blue singlets. He scanned each row until he found Caesar, who was sandwiched somewhere in the middle, his bulge hidden behind some guy’s elbow. Too bad. Nathaniel turned around and asked the obvious.
“You’re on the wrestling team?”
“Yup.”
“You any good?”
Caesar raised his chin. “My mom keeps the trophies downstairs in the living room. She’s even more proud of them than I am.”
Nathaniel nodded appreciatively, glancing at the photo once more. The school name confirmed they didn’t go to the same one. Some of the guys on the team looked pretty tough. One even had facial hair. He tried to imagine Caesar on the mat, fighting to pin any of these opponents, and couldn’t. Then again, the wiry muscles Nathaniel had seen earlier, and the confident way he had joked with Steph, implied he didn’t know the true Caesar yet.
He moved to a narrow shelf full of DVDs, searching for more clues.
“Nice movie collection,” he said. Once he started reading the spines, he wished he hadn’t spoken so quickly. Most of them were action films. He didn’t have anything against big budget explosions, but Caesar’s collection was devoid of any that had defined the genre. No Kill Bill. No The Bourne Identity. Not even Die Hard. Most of the movies here were just a flash in the pan, pushed heavily by the studios but soon forgotten afterwards. He noticed Independence Day and tried not to wince. The collection wasn’t completely hopeless though. He unshelved North by Northwest and held it up.
“You like old movies?”
Caesar shrugged. “Christmas present from Dad. It’s his favorite. I’ve never actually seen it.”
“Your dad has good taste. All of Hitchcock’s stuff is excellent. Well, except for Mr. & Mrs. Smith. Or some of his wartime propaganda films, although Lifeboat starts out good.”
Caesar stared at him blankly.
“Or not,” Nathaniel said, turning to place the movie on the shelf. Then he hesitated. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. Maybe a movie would help break the ice. Besides, the DVD was still shrink-wrapped, which seemed tragic. “We could watch it together. If you want.”
Caesar nodded. “Okay.”
Nathaniel dug a thumbnail along the case to break the seal, watching as Caesar bent over to turn on the DVD player. Once the disc was in the tray, they settled down on the couch, but Nathaniel didn’t feel comfortable. How could something as simple as sitting together feel so awkward? It didn’t help that he was so aware of Caesar’s every movement, like the way his leg bounced impatiently as the FBI warning flashed on the screen, or how one of his hands rested on the cushion between them, looking lonely all by itself. Maybe Caesar wished Steph was sitting there so she could hold it for him.
The movie finally started. Nathaniel immersed himself in a world before his time, paying attention occasionally to Hitchcock’s directing style, but mostly getting caught up in the plot. Caesar seemed to enjoy himself too, tensing up at the right moments. At first, anyway. The movie wasn’t exactly short, and as it neared the two-hour mark, Nathaniel could sense him getting restless. He realized then how boring he must seem. Maybe Caesar wasn’t actually shy. Perhaps he simply didn’t have anything to say to Nathaniel any more than he would to one of his teachers at school. All they did together was study. When Caesar asked to do something else, Nathaniel had suggested they watch his father’s favorite movie. Caesar probably saw him as another boring adult. So Nathaniel did something he usually abhorred and started talking during the film, sharing some of the more interesting trivia about the production, or some of the scandals that surrounded the stars. Some of this Caesar responded to. Other times he just nodded to show he was listening.
“When I lived in California, I made a list of filming locations and went to as many of them as possible.”
Caesar perked up. “What city did you live in?”
“San Diego at the time, but we move every few years.”
Caesar sighed wistfully. “Must be nice. I’ve been here my whole life.”
“At least you know who everyone is. I’m tired of feeling like a stranger.”
Caesar thought about it. “I would definitel
y miss my friends.” He looked over and made eye contact. “It must suck having to say goodbye each time.”
“I try to minimize that by being antisocial.” He laughed at himself. “I always have at least one friend or I’d go crazy, but there’s no point in getting too attached.”
“How long have you been here?” Caesar asked. “I mean, will you be moving again soon?”
“Why? Will you miss me?”
“Yeah.” Caesar returned his attention to the screen. “I would.”
The response sounded genuine. And a little too sentimental, because they didn’t really know each other. Still, he couldn’t help but find it endearing. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after I graduate. I guess that depends on whatever college accepts me. Maybe I’ll stay local.”
Now he was being sentimental. The plan had always been to move as far away as possible. College was his best chance to escape Dwight forever.
“I’m going to Yale,” Caesar said.
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “Hard school to get into.”
“That’s why you’re here,” Caesar said.
True enough. This wasn’t a social call. Mr. Hubbard was paying him good money to make sure his son got into the right college. Nathaniel returned his attention to the television and watched Cary Grant scramble over Mount Rushmore. When the film reached its epic conclusion and the credits started to roll, he grabbed the remote and shut it off. “That was a waste of time. On Monday we hit the books again.”
Caesar looked chastised, but that was fine. Nathaniel had a role to play. Drooling over a sophomore and trying to imagine what was beneath his wrestling uniform was the opposite of what he should be doing.
“I gotta run,” Nathaniel said. “If you have any homework this weekend, make sure you get it done.”
Starchy, but necessary. If Caesar wanted to have fun, he could spend time with his girlfriend. Nathaniel got up and left the room, wishing he had someone like that in his life. Someone he could always be himself around instead of having to pretend he was responsible or anything but fucked up. Then again, he kind of did.
* * * * *