After his shower, Nathaniel dressed in his room, then had an idea. He grabbed his cell phone and sent a quick text to Caesar.
what do you think?
A minute later the response came.
I don’t know. All clear?
He thought about it and nodded to himself. Surely she would have said something to one of them by now. Mr. Hubbard was out of town, so she wasn’t waiting for him to get home.
all clear
, he texted back.
we’ll be fine.
He pocketed his phone and headed downstairs. He didn’t join Caesar, who was watching music videos with Carrie. Deciding to play it safe, Nathaniel sat at the dining room table and worked on homework. When Mrs. Hubbard came in to set the table, he moved aside his books and helped her. At dinner, the mood at the table wasn’t tense. Mrs. Hubbard wasn’t talkative, but she often wasn’t. Nathaniel tried to get everyone conversing, which didn’t take much effort. Especially with Peter, who loved talking about himself.
After dinner, Nathaniel remained in plain sight, proving he had nothing to hide. When everyone else had gone upstairs, he remained on the couch, flipping through channels. He was considering going to bed when Mrs. Hubbard marched into the living room and approached the couch, carrying a duffel bag that she dropped to the floor. Then she tossed his car keys on the side table.
“You’re leaving,” she said. “There’s enough in there to see you through the day tomorrow. After school, you can come back for the rest. I’ll be the only one here. I’ll even pack your things for you, but if I ever find out you’ve been talking to my son—to any of my children—I
will
call the police.”
Nathaniel worked his jaw, trying to find a way out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about!” Mrs. Hubbard hissed, keeping her voice down. “Don’t you try to deny it, because I saw more than enough with my own eyes!”
“You don’t understand,” Nathaniel said. “We love each other.”
She responded with the words that he’d been dreading. “We trusted you! We took you in to protect you! This is how you repay us?”
Shame mixed with panic, making it hard to think. “I didn’t— We both— Caesar and I—” He couldn’t find the right words to express what they felt for each other, how they were happier and stronger now, but only when they were together. If she took this away it would damage them both. She couldn’t want that. For him maybe, but not her own son. “Please,” he managed.
Mrs. Hubbard’s features remained hard. He’d never reach her. Nathaniel would talk to Mr. Hubbard instead, insist on calling him immediately, because he would be on Nathaniel’s side. And if not? All those proud words, the supportive grip on his shoulder, would withdraw. Mr. Hubbard wouldn’t want to be his father any longer. The idea would revolt him. That rejection would hurt just as much. “Don’t tell your husband.”
Mrs. Hubbard’s eyes widened at this request. Then her expression became severe. “Leave now, and maybe I won’t need to.”
Nathaniel felt unstable as he stood. Once he’d picked up the duffel bag and keys, he nearly ran, as if fleeing the scene of a crime. He tried to remain calm, to remind himself that everything was okay. They were close enough in age to be legal, and their love was a good thing, even if Mrs. Hubbard didn’t see it that way. She followed him to the door and shut it behind him, not slamming it, but he did hear the locks click. He glanced down at his keys and wasn’t surprised to find one missing. Then he went to his car, drove half a block, and pulled over. With shaking hands he reached for his phone, needing to contact Caesar, to tell him what had happened. That’s when he saw the last text message he’d sent earlier in the evening, mocking and unbelievably naïve.
we’ll be fine.
Nathaniel shook his head and tossed the phone into the passenger seat. He stared at it for a moment, then at the place he had briefly called home, before driving away.
Chapter Eight
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Nathaniel spun around, and not for the first time. He’d been doing so continuously, searching the confusing halls of a school that wasn’t his, all for one person. And now a familiar face had found him instead, but this wasn’t good news.
“Don’t tell me,” Steph continued. “You enrolled here just to be closer to him.”
Nathaniel nearly snapped at her, but he was tired. Last night he had driven around aimlessly before ending up at Rebecca’s house. She had snuck him into her room and listened patiently as he explained and agonized over what had happened. Around three in the morning he finally took pity on her and suggested they go to bed. She might have managed to sleep, but Nathaniel had laid there motionless, stewing over everything in his mind, trying to find a solution. “I need to talk to Caesar.”
Steph made a face. “Can’t it wait until you’re both home again?”
“I don’t live there anymore,” Nathaniel said, his voice hoarse. “And not by choice.”
“His parents found out?”
Nathaniel nodded. The bell rang, the crowds in the hall dispersing. Soon no students would be left at all, and someone in authority would notice him.
Steph hugged her books closer to her chest, seemingly unbothered by class having begun. “He’s gay, isn’t he? When we broke up, he said he was bi, but if that were true… I thought he loved me.”
“He does,” Nathaniel said with a resigned sigh. Getting kicked out of the school seemed inevitable now. “He never stopped talking about you.”
“Then why—“
“I don’t know. Because I’m a guy and he had never been with one before? I’m sorry about what happened. It sucks that you got hurt.”
He was turning away when Steph spoke again. “He has a wrestling meet tonight. Half an hour after school. In the gym.”
Nathaniel wanted to thank her, but a teacher was approaching, informing them in chastising tones that the bell had rung. Steph disappeared into a nearby classroom. Nathaniel hurried down the hall toward the nearest exit. Once safely in his car, he checked his phone again. Nothing. Nathaniel had texted Caesar first thing in the morning, and many times since, but with no reply.
He kept checking the phone and sending texts between his own classes. Nothing came in response. The hours dragged on, Nathaniel struggling to keep his eyes open. When the school day ended, he rushed over to the Hubbards. He didn’t really care about the clothes and other things left there. Maybe the lack of sleep was making him paranoid, but he felt if he didn’t make an appearance, Mrs. Hubbard would realize he was out looking for her son instead.
When she answered the door, Nathaniel’s belongings were behind her in the entryway. She stepped aside so he could collect them, watching him carefully.
“How long has this been going on?” she asked.
Nathaniel ignored her, grabbing a suitcase and setting it outside on the patio. Then he went back for a cardboard box.
“You owe me an explanation,” Mrs. Hubbard said. “When did this start and… Well, I certainly don’t want details, but how far did it go? Further than what I saw in the yard yesterday?”
Nathaniel picked up his dumbbells, made sure he had nothing more to gather, and looked her in the eye. “Who cares? It’s over now.”
He turned his back, bracing himself for shouting or worse. Instead all he heard was the door shutting quietly behind him. Good. He hoped she believed him. Nathaniel loaded his car and gunned it all the way to Caesar’s school. The gym was near the entrance, the door propped open. Nathaniel hovered in the doorway. Mats were set up in the center of the room. A group of guys in singlets and headgear had gathered around an older man who was guiding the action and lecturing. Caesar was among the wrestlers, hands on his hips as he nodded at something the coach was saying. Seeing him sent a longing straight to the center of Nathaniel’s being. He stared, hoping to attract Caesar’s attention, searching for signs that he too was devastated by what had happened.
The coach noticed him, which made Nathaniel uncomfortable. The man’s attention soon returned to the proceedings, but an adult was aware of his presence now. Standing in the doorway made Nathaniel feel conspicuous. He glanced to the bleachers, where a handful of students sat. That’s when he noticed a head full of curly dark hair. Steph was watching him. She pointed, seemingly to herself, but the gesture became more curved, like he was supposed to look behind himself, so he glanced over his shoulder. In the hallway was another set of doors adjacent to the gym. When he looked back at Steph, she nodded enthusiastically.
Okay. Nathaniel turned and pushed his way through the new doors and found himself in a locker room. He stopped to listen, not detecting anyone else. That was good. If he could get Caesar to meet him here, they would have enough privacy to talk. Was that Steph’s plan? Or was she setting him up to get busted? The hallways felt like public areas. The locker rooms were not. He could imagine what Mrs. Hubbard would say to the police if he was caught. He’d be branded a pervert or a—
“What are you doing here?”
Nathaniel turned at the sound of that voice. He answered Caesar by grabbing his shoulders, pulling him near, and kissing him. To his relief, Caesar responded as he always did. For once, he was more interested in talking.
“What’s going on? You weren’t there this morning, and for some reason I’m grounded from my phone. Did my mom… Did she see?”
Nathaniel nodded grimly. He led Caesar deeper into the locker room, choosing the aisle farthest from the door. Then he explained everything that had happened, bracing for the backlash. Caesar might push him away, deciding the risks outweighed their feelings for each other.
Instead he looked worried, but at least he took Nathaniel’s hand. “What are we going to do? How are we going to see each other? It’d be easier if I had my license already, but that’s not until—”
“September,” Nathaniel said.
“Right, and by then you’ll be gone.”
“I’ll figure something out. I promise.”
Caesar frowned. “But how? We barely managed when we lived together.”
“I’ll get a place of my own,” Nathaniel said.
Caesar brightened. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’m not going back home. I’ll find an apartment. Then you can come stay with me.” Nathaniel thought about this and chewed his lip. “We’ll have to lay low. For a little while.”
Caesar squeezed his hand tighter. “We can’t see each other?”
“No,” Nathaniel said, his chest aching with emotion. “We can’t. You need to convince your mother that we’re through. Otherwise, every time you spend the night with a friend, she’ll wonder if you’re actually with me.”
“True.” Caesar sighed. “How long will that take?”
“I don’t know.” Nathaniel thought of all the text messages he had sent, realizing that Mrs. Hubbard probably read them. “Does your mom know your pin number?”
“For my phone?” Caesar shook his head.
“Good. When you get it back, delete everything from me. Here.” Nathaniel pulled out his phone and released Caesar’s hand so he could place it there. “Take this. It’s on vibrate. I’ll call you. That’s how we’ll stay in touch. Okay?”
Caesar nodded glumly. “This sucks.”
“I know.” Nathaniel listened to make sure they were still alone. Then he leaned forward and kissed Caesar, trying to put enough into it to tide them both over. “How are you getting home after the meet? I could give you a ride.”
Caesar shook his head. “Mom is picking me up.”
“Then I better go.” Nathaniel didn’t move. Not yet. “We’re going to make this work. I promise. No matter what I have to do, I’ll make sure we don’t fall apart. Okay?”
Caesar nodded, steeling his jaw, but his watery eyes betrayed him.
“Don’t cry. Promise me that you’ll stay strong.”
“I promise.”
“Say it like you mean it,” Nathaniel said, forcing himself to grin.
Caesar copied him. “I promise!”
“Good. I love you.” Nathaniel kissed him once more. Then he stepped back, leaning against one of the lockers. “Better get back to the meet before someone comes searching for you.”
He seemed unwilling to go, so Nathaniel looked away, as if no longer interested. After a moment, Caesar slunk down the aisle and around the corner. Only when he heard the squeak of the swinging door did Nathaniel rest his head against cold metal and exhale. He didn’t stand there feeling sorry for himself. Not for long. He had a promise to keep.
* * * * *
Shakespeare had once described time as a tyrant. To Nathaniel time felt more like a slave driver, spurring him on with promises instead of a whip. Promises that life would get much worse if he didn’t complete his task, that Caesar would be lost to him forever if Nathaniel failed to change nearly everything. Over the coming months he tore his life down and rebuilt it so they could be together. High school graduation came and went, an unwelcome distraction that he barely acknowledged. Nathaniel went home despite his resolve not to, only showing up there to sleep, shoving the dresser in front of his bedroom door when he did so. Other times he slept in his car. He took showers at a truck stop more often than not. This was uncomfortable and inconvenient, but helped motivate him to get his own place. And he did, but that also came with a sacrifice. When he broke the news to Rebecca, Nathaniel expected her to be hurt that he wasn’t going to Yale after all. Her anger surprised him. She called him stupid. Quite a few other names too. And she cried, but mostly in frustration. He told himself it had all been worth it, which was easier to believe as August approached, because now all the pieces were in place. The shape of his new life was complete. He moved in to his new home. All he needed to do now was to welcome his first guest.
Caesar. Nathaniel paced on the sidewalk, looking at his phone and trying to use his thumb to wipe clean the screen. Or maybe he was stroking the device, because in a way it had become synonymous with his boyfriend. They didn’t see each other often. Quick rendezvous at the mall or other places Caesar hung out with friends. Group events where Mrs. Hubbard was convinced her son would be safe. At most they managed an hour alone together before Caesar’s friends wanted to move on. Nathaniel had no desire to go with them. He only wanted Caesar, and felt increasingly frustrated by how difficult this became. The movie night was the best—Nathaniel’s eighteenth birthday, Caesar’s friends disappearing into the theater without him so they could spend nearly two hours alone together in the car. That had been nice, although the desperate groping and taking turns going down had left him feeling sleazy.
In addition to these encounters, they texted as much as possible. Caesar had his own phone back and had returned Nathaniel’s, making it easier to maintain their connection. In theory. Lately those texts had become stilted. Conversation became stagnant when they weren’t making new memories together. They could only reminisce about the past so many times. Today that would all change. The sound of a car made him look up. He didn’t recognize the vehicle, but the passenger was familiar. As was the driver, a guy with short buzzed hair—one of Caesar’s close friends who had recently earned his license. Nathaniel kept his cool as the car pulled over and Caesar hopped out. He watched as his boyfriend took in the surroundings—the University of Houston campus. Was he happy? Impressed? Nathaniel didn’t like that he was having a hard time reading him. Maybe it was Caesar’s new look, the shorter hairstyle, the dark locks barely reaching his eyebrows, or—
“Did you forget your glasses?” he asked.
Caesar smiled bashfully, touching the space above his eyes as if to push up frames that were no longer there. “Contacts,” he explained.
“I liked the glasses,” Nathaniel said. Then he opened his arms. “But you look nice.”
They hugged, which felt much too platonic. The car that had dropped off Caesar drove away, Nathaniel determined to correct the awkward introduction. “You look hot. Good enough to eat.”
He snapped his teeth shut just inches from Caesar’s mouth, then covered those lips with his own. Caesar reacted, pressing against him. The chemistry was still there. They still had it.
“How much time do we have?”
Caesar took a step back. “Mom thinks Kurt and I are at a boat show. How long do people usually hang around those things?”
“Hours,” Nathaniel said with a smile. “Hours and hours. Sometimes they stay overnight.”
“I wish,” Caesar said wistfully. “I just need to text Kurt when I’m ready. He met some new girl from around here who thinks he’s in college.” He turned and nodded at the uninspiring dormitory towers behind them. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Come see.”
Nathaniel didn’t exactly strut into his new home. Moody Towers, as it was called, was far from luxurious. Everything felt rundown—the community area by the entrance, the rattling elevators, the narrow hallways, and finally, the tiny dorm room they would have all to themselves. Or should have. The long room was furnished with what appeared to be couches on both walls. These pulled out to become beds during the night, although they passed plenty of rooms where these weren’t tucked away. Luckily his roommate was tidy. That’s about all they had in common, since Mr. Jung was a small, gray-haired Korean man who apparently couldn’t speak English. Nathaniel found this highly suspect, since the man was always sitting prim and proper on his couch, reading English books.