Something Like Thunder (29 page)

Caesar turned and walked out the door. Nathaniel let him go. He stood there and tried to imagine what his future held now, what Caesar was returning home to, and how Jason probably felt he had neither future nor home. Then he hurried from the room and out of the house. Caesar, who had opened the car door, looked at him in surprise, but not with hope.

“I’m still going to Yale,” Nathaniel said. “Maybe it can be a fresh start. For us both.”

Caesar clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he fought back tears. Then he nodded. Nathaniel held his gaze before he turned and went inside. Once he closed the door behind him, he pressed his back against it.
People don’t stop wanting other people.
Perhaps he had misinterpreted what Victor had been trying to say, because right now, despite all the emotional pain and logical reasons to let go, Nathaniel couldn’t. He still wanted who he wanted.

Chapter Eleven

Nathaniel waited. Doing so allowed him to test the convictions of his heart. Moving to Connecticut provided ample distraction, as did acclimating to a new campus, the awe Nathaniel felt for Yale replaced by intimidation. He soon overcame this though and found his stride. That’s when waiting truly became a challenge. He wanted to see Caesar. They had exchanged a few texts, during which Nathaniel admitted he wasn’t ready to risk getting hurt again. He didn’t ask Caesar to wait for him, since that seemed unlikely, but he hoped.

The holidays were nearing, finals the only roadblock standing in the way of Christmas cheer. That’s when he decided he had waited long enough. His feelings hadn’t changed. The love he felt for Caesar hadn’t diminished, so he drove over to Caesar’s dorm unannounced, carrying a potted plant. The pulse in his neck was beating as he found the right door and knocked, not knowing what he would discover.

A disheveled college student in need of a haircut, as it turned out. One who seemed to be suffering from sleep deprivation. Caesar’s eyes went wide as he opened the door and tried to make himself more presentable. Then he gave up and grinned sheepishly. He might be a tired mess, but as far as Nathaniel was concerned, he still looked gorgeous.

“Housewarming present,” he said, thrusting out the potted plant. “A few months late.” He glanced over Caesar’s shoulder at a cramped and disorganized room. “I see I was right to buy the smallest plant possible.”

“Yeah,” Caesar said, standing sideways to offer a better view. “My dad calls this the authentic Yale experience, which means slumming it here like he did.”

“Roommate and all,” Nathaniel murmured. “My how the tables have turned. I don’t suppose he’s a sour old Korean man?”

“Chain-smoking head-banger,” Caesar said. “He just went out to buy more cigarettes.”

“How long do you think he’ll be?”

“Five minutes?”

Nathaniel leaned forward and said in a husky whisper, “I probably won’t last longer than three.”

Caesar’s face registered surprise, then hunger. “Me neither. I haven’t… not since you.”

That’s all Nathaniel needed to hear. He stepped forward. Caesar moved backward. Once inside the room he shut the door, glanced around for a clear surface for the plant, and gave up. Instead he set it on the floor. “You have a tie you can hang on the doorknob?”

“Yeah,” Caesar said, kicking at one of the piles of laundry. “Uh, where did I see it last?”

Nathaniel sighed, grabbed one of the small dressers and lifted it, setting it in front of the door.

“Okay,” Caesar began. “That should—”

Whatever else he had to say was cut short by Nathaniel’s kiss. After a moment of gentle passion, they scrambled at each other’s clothes, only unzipping or unbuttoning enough to gain access to what they needed most. They lasted longer than three minutes, but not by much. They had just finished when the door banged against the dresser, followed by an irritated knock.

“I don’t suppose you have more privacy at your place?” Caesar asked, redoing his jeans.

Nathaniel checked his appearance in a small mirror, wiped at his mouth, and turned around. “Come see for yourself.”

A few minutes later, after a very awkward introduction to Caesar’s roommate, they were in Nathaniel’s car, whizzing past old Yale buildings and onto the highway.

“You live off campus?” Caesar said, already sounding envious.

“Rebecca insisted. One of her roommates stole money from her the first year, the next she found someone’s naked boyfriend passed out in her bed.”

“And that was a problem?”

“He barfed before passing out. All over himself and the sheets.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel hit the turn signal and veered toward an exit. “Her parents agreed to help her get an apartment, so they pay for half.”

“And you pay for the other. Did you get a job or something?”

“No. My parents are paying my half.” His father had insisted. True to his word, he kept up with the counseling sessions, and from what Nathaniel’s mother said, those had worked wonders for their relationship. Nathaniel had spoken with the therapist on the phone to verify this and had grudgingly agreed to a family session some day. In the meantime, a tentative peace had been made. Part of him still resented what Heath had done; the rest still loved him as a parent.

“Man, the tables really have turned.” Caesar’s tones were playful. “I never thought I’d see you mooching off your parents.”

“Don’t make me turn this car around! So how are you holding up? The first semester is rough, huh?”

“Is it that obvious?” Caesar flipped down the visor to check himself in the mirror. Then he sighed and flipped it up again. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. Sometimes in class, it’s like the teachers are speaking another language. In at least one class the teacher really is. I think.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know, man. My grades are pretty dire. If I don’t pull it together for finals…”

Nathaniel glanced over at him. “That bad?”

Caesar nodded glumly. “Yeah.” Then he perked up. “Maybe you could tutor me! We’re starting over, right? Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“I need all my energy to keep up with my own studies,” Nathaniel said. “Sorry.”

“I figured.” Caesar slid a hand over to take his. Then he squeezed. “It’s good to see you again.”

Nathaniel grinned, keeping his eyes on the road as he turned left into a dingy apartment complex. It wasn’t much, but compared to the dorms, it was pure luxury. “You’ll do fine,” he said. “You just need to slow down and let yourself recharge.”

“You probably shouldn’t invite me in,” Caesar said. “Once you do, there’s no way you’ll get me back to that dorm.”

“You’re not living here.” Nathaniel parked and unbuckled his seatbelt. “If you promise to behave, I
might
let you spend the night. Come on.”

They had a basement apartment, the windows small and high. Rebecca often complained about the limited light. He preferred it, since the gloom was better for watching movies. He showed off his home theater to Caesar as he gave a tour. The plasma television’s picture was becoming diffused with age and the surround sound system consisted of mismatched speakers from thrift store stereos, but at least the couch was nice because he and Rebecca had invested in a new one. The kitchen was fully equipped, even though neither of them really cooked, and their small bedrooms were on opposite sides of the living room, ensuring privacy.

“It’s so clean!” Caesar said, eying the bathroom longingly before Nathaniel flicked off the light. “You sure I can’t move in?”

“From what I’ve seen, you’d probably trash the place. What happened to your room?”

“We had a party the first week and never found time to clean up afterwards. At least the plastic cups are gone now, but only because someone was doing a study on mold cultures.”

Nathaniel grimaced. “And to think I just had my mouth all over you. Maybe you should take a shower.”

“Maybe you should join me.”

The front door opened before they could pursue this idea. Rebecca came in, carrying a twelve-pack of Coke. She noticed Caesar right away and was gracious about his presence. Of course she had fair warning. Nathaniel had claimed his sole purpose in going over there was to drop off the plant and say hello, but she knew him better than that.

“I’ve got caffeinated sugar,” she offered. “Perfect cure for freshman fatigue.”

“It
is
obvious!” Caesar groaned. “How old do I look? Forty? Fifty?”

Rebecca laughed. “You look fine. It’s a given, that’s all. I’ve got more carbs in the car if you want to help me carry them in. You don’t have to worry about putting on weight. The constant anxiety burns more calories than you’d think.”

Caesar went to help her. Nathaniel joined them, but only after pausing for an ‘aha!’ moment. Problem, meet your solution! Once they were back inside and putting plastic bags on the kitchen counter, he casually said, “You’ll get used to the grind soon enough. Just look at Rebecca. She has a near-perfect GPA and still manages extracurricular activities, such as the, uh… what’s that crazy long title again?”

“The Residential College Math and Science Tutoring Program,” Rebecca said proudly.

Nathaniel nodded. “That’s the one. Too bad they couldn’t work in a catchy acronym somehow.”

“Wait,” Caesar said, looking hopefully to Rebecca. “You’re a tutor?”

“Yes.” Rebecca saw his desperation. “Oh. I already have a full allotment of pupils.”

“Officially,” Nathaniel said helpfully. She shot him a glare that he combated with his best puppy-dog eyes. “Just a little help to get him through his first finals. You remember how terrifying those were.”

“Fine,” she said. “You’ll owe me! Both of you. What can you offer in return? What are your talents?”

“I’m good at wrestling,” Caesar said, clearly grasping.

“I’m just easy on the eyes,” Nathaniel said, flexing his pecs.

Rebecca nodded. “Fine. A private mud wrestling match, just for me. I hope you boys are willing to get dirty!”

Nathaniel and Caesar exchanged a heated glance. Then Nathaniel nodded. “I think that can be arranged.”

* * * * *

Christmas lights, enough to surround a house in a warm cozy glow and chase away the dark of winter, but these weren’t lining the roof. Nor were they in the yard, strapped to wooden cutouts of Santa and his reindeer. Nathaniel’s mother always chose instead to fill the interior of their home with lights of every color and variety. A string of elegant golden bulbs wove among the branches of the Christmas tree, reflecting off the glass ornaments. Flickering flames came from a group of scented candles on the coffee table. Clusters of colorful paper lanterns hung in each corner, while a net of tiny white lights draped the front window, like little snowflakes trapped in time.

And that was just the living room. Nathaniel sat on the couch, letting his eyes unfocus, creating a natural kaleidoscope. Then he breathed out a contented sigh. Christmas music played from the kitchen where his father worked on his famous gravy. His mother had rushed out after some forgotten necessity. Nathaniel was content to sit and do nothing. No college, no housekeeping, not even a boyfriend. He and Caesar were dating again, exclusively, and things were going well. Nathaniel still insisted they keep their distance over the holidays. Caesar had always claimed that the timing had been wrong, that they should have waited until they were in Connecticut. Maybe the environment in Houston was a contributing factor too, although as tranquil as Nathaniel felt now, that was hard to imagine.

The front door squeaked open.

“Hey! Look who it is!”

Nathaniel tensed at the sound of his brother’s voice. They didn’t see each other often, and even then Nathaniel managed to keep his distance. He turned in his seat, surprised by Dwight’s dark beard that made his blue eyes more striking. Part of him wished that married life had given his brother a large belly or bags under his eyes, but he was still as handsome as ever.

“Hey, stranger!” Sheila was right behind her husband, a small bundle strapped to her chest.

Nathaniel gave a cordial nod before turning back around. Maybe he should help Dad in the kitchen. Or find out where his mother had gone and join her. Or hell, he could make a run for his room and barricade the door. Instead he forced himself to take a deep breath. His brother was standing in front of him, taking off his jacket while rambling on about the Yale Bulldogs and some game he had seen. Sheila was at his side, cheeks still red from the cold. She was smiling at him, approaching cautiously, holding out something small and squirming for him to take.

“Your nephew has been waiting a long time to meet you,” she said.

Nathaniel opened his arms, despite fearing he would drop or somehow break this delicate creature. Sheila helped him, showing him how to support the head. Nathaniel got the baby settled in the crook of his arm. The kid had his brother’s eyes, but his sparse hair was a much lighter shade than Dwight’s. Nathaniel had seen plenty of photos already. Sheila sent him emails all the time, and while he glanced at the pictures she sent, they had never made much impact. Now, holding the child in his arms, feeling the soft skin, a tiny hand wrapping around one of his fingers, he finally understood.

“Hey there,” he managed.

Sheila sat next to him, bending over her son. “Do you know who this is, Arthur? That’s your Uncle Nate! Yes it is!”

“Nathaniel,” he corrected automatically, already knowing it was hopeless. “He’s ridiculously tiny.”

“He’ll be a big guy,” Dwight said, sounding self-assured. “A real scrapper. Runs in the family, right?” Nathaniel wasn’t sure if that was a reference to their past, but his brother didn’t seem too interested in him. Instead he was looking around. “Where’s Dad?”

“In the kitchen.”

Dwight went to find him, leaving them alone. Nathaniel tried talking to the baby more, but of course got no response. Then Arthur started crying, at which point he was handed back to his mother.

“Always hungry,” she said, reaching for the buttons of her sweater. “Um, would it bother you if…”