Something Like Thunder (6 page)

Nathaniel nodded his appreciation and left the room. Once he was in the hallway, he glanced back, a strange feeling overcoming him, one so alien he needed a moment to recognize it for what it was.

Hope.

Chapter Two

Nathaniel lingered in front of the bathroom mirror and sighed. Sometimes he wished for a normal weekend—sleeping in and staying in bed, even after waking up. A quick excursion to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal before heading back to his room for a movie marathon. Some of Terry Gilliam’s films, starting with
The Adventures of Baron Munchausen
, since it made him believe fantasy could become reality.

Nathaniel exhaled and checked his watch. Time to tutor Little Lord Hubbard again. Over the past week, Caesar’s grades had remained steady, but as a good role model or whatever, Nathaniel was failing abysmally. Try as he might, he struggled to make any sort of personal connection with Caesar. The environment didn’t help. They always sat at the dining room table, Mrs. Hubbard appearing frequently to check on their progress. Nathaniel felt pressured, like they needed to remain on track or risk being reprimanded, so he didn’t even risk small talk.

He also tried to view Caesar as more than just a pupil, still bothered by Rebecca’s claim that he didn’t react to other guys the way he should. Yesterday, while Caesar was distracted with reading a paragraph out loud, Nathaniel had looked him over, noticing the jumble of homemade friendship bracelets he wore on one wrist. Who had given them to him? Had Caesar returned the favor, making and distributing his own? Or, like Nathaniel had done before Dwight gave him hell about it, maybe he had made the bracelets for himself, just because he thought they looked cool. Nathaniel had been on the verge of asking about them when Mrs. Hubbard made another of her appearances.

Today wasn’t likely to be any different, but he had a job to do. If he didn’t get a move on, he’d be late. Nathaniel had grabbed his things and was heading for the front door when he heard shouting. At first he thought it was his parents. His father was a patient man until he wasn’t. His mother felt deeply or nothing at all. When they butted heads, they did so loudly. Nathaniel always remained on the sidelines, but watching them go round and round about issues that didn’t seem important to him was tedious. He was just about to step outside when he realized one of the voices was wrong. He recognized his mother, but shouting back at her…

Nathaniel spun around and raced toward the commotion. He found himself in the kitchen, where he saw his mother backed up against the counter, Dwight’s finger thrusting at her repeatedly as the shouting continued. Nathaniel didn’t think. He lurched forward, grabbed Dwight’s shoulder, and pulled so hard his brother spun like a top before he caught himself. His handsome face was twisted with rage, an arm cocking instinctively before the flames flickered in his eyes. Dwight remembered that a witness was present. His arm lowered, but his fists remained balled.

“Everyone just calm down,” Star pleaded.

“What’s going on?” Nathaniel asked, chest heaving from adrenaline.

“Mom’s pissed at me
because I got a job
,” Dwight spat.

Star exhaled. “No, I’m angry because I found an account statement showing that your college fund is nearly depleted!”

“Which is why I got a job!”

“That money is supposed to be for your education!” She shook her head. “I told your father we shouldn’t let you take a year off. I knew this would happen!”

“Oh really? Then why act so damn surprised?” Dwight turned and stepped into her personal space again. “I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t tell me what to do!” He kept shouting, ranting that he didn’t need a college degree to sell cars, and that he would be the best salesman the dealership had ever seen. Nathaniel barely heard the words. Instead he focused on his mother’s bewildered expression, like she had been cornered by a wild animal in her own home, and for a moment—just the tiniest fraction of time—her features betrayed fear. That’s what set him off.

He grabbed Dwight’s shoulder again, clamping down so hard it was sure to be painful, shouting his own furious words. “Leave her alone, you piece of shit!”

Dwight turned, knocking away his hand and gritting his teeth. The look he shot Nathaniel promised there would be hell to pay. But not now. Dwight grabbed his keys and stomped from the room. They listened as the front door opened and slammed shut. Then Star sighed, rubbing her temples as she took a seat at the table.

Nathaniel sat next to her. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” Another exasperated sigh. “This is my fault. I didn’t raise him well or… I don’t know how I got it so right with you but not him.” She shook her head. “I was too young to be a mother.”

“I’m glad you didn’t wait,” Nathaniel said, trying to interject some humor. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here. It’s not like Dwight and I were lined up inside you, just waiting our turn. It’s all down to chance. Right?”

“In that case I don’t have any regrets. I just wish I knew what he needed.”

“Have you tried slapping him around?” Then, more carefully, he added, “Maybe this will be good. All he’s done the past year is laze around the house. Now he’s got a job. Maybe he’ll get his own place too.”

“That’s not what I want for him,” his mother said. “His independence, yes, but he needs more to fall back on than his good looks. Those won’t last forever. I’m living proof.”

“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.”

“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?”