Something Like Thunder (7 page)

“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 definitely 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.

* * * * *

“So he’s straight,” Rebecca said, making sure she understood his story correctly. She was flipping through her CD collection, tossing those she no longer wanted on her bed so she could feed them to eBay.

“Yeah, he’s straight,” Nathaniel said. “His girlfriend was my first clue. That he’s actually happy and outgoing around her confirms it.”

Rebecca shrugged, her attention still on her task. “One less thing for you to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say.” Nathaniel said with a huff. “I was starting to like him. You have no idea how it feels to meet someone you like, only to find out you’re not compatible on the most basic level.”

Rebecca stopped sorting and looked at him pointedly. “Yeah, that must be rough.”

“Oh. Sorry. It’s just so frustrating.”

Rebecca sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “I know. I’m sorry too. You finally noticed a guy, but he’ll never notice you. Not in the same way. Why does love have to suck so bad?”

“I don’t know, but you’re right. I have bigger things to worry about. My mom and Dwight got into an argument today.” He told her everything that had happened. Rebecca pushed aside the pile of CDs so she could sit on the bed and listen. He didn’t have to explain the implications—she already knew what he had waiting for him at home.

“Sleepover time?” she asked when he was finished.

He nodded gratefully. On occasion, when the situation was dire enough, she would sneak him up to her bedroom late at night and out again in the morning. This only delayed the inevitable, but occasionally Dwight cooled down by the next day and returned to being just a jerk instead of a vicious monster.

“Spring break is coming up,” Rebecca said.

Nathaniel groaned. “Don’t remind me. At least I don’t have to worry about him when I’m at school.”

“But you said he got a job. Find out his hours. We’ll make plans for whenever he’s off work.” She hopped up and grabbed a notebook and pen, turning to a blank page. “Let’s come up with an idea for every single day. We can hit a bunch of museums in Houston or—”

“Road trip to Galveston?”

She nodded and scribbled it down. “What else?” When he remained silent, she looked up, seeing the relief on his face. “It sucks that you have to hide from your own brother, but we’re going to have fun.”

“You’re my best friend,” Nathaniel said. “Of all time.”

Rebecca smiled, her cheeks a little flushed. “Then let’s make this a spring break to remember!”

* * * * *

Time was Nathaniel’s greatest weakness. No matter how often he promised himself to remain on guard or how much he prepared for the worst by working out each day, eventually his memory blurred at the edges, his instincts growing lukewarm. That’s when it would happen. His mind would be somewhere else—such as the old Savage Steve Holland movie he was watching at the moment. When his brother plopped down on the couch next to him, Nathaniel knew he should have gotten up before Dwight’s butt hit the cushion. But he didn’t, his intuition having failed him.

Dwight reached for the remote, flipping over to a football game. Nathaniel was pushing himself up to stand when his brother grabbed his wrist, squeezed, and yanked him back down. He tried pulling away, but Dwight’s grip was strong, ensuring he couldn’t escape.