Jason entered.
Peter had turned in his chair to face the door. “Hey! Want to play a few campaigns together?”
“Actually,” Jason said, “I was thinking about buying a cell phone. Those have games too, right?”
“Yeah,” Peter said. “They’re primitive, but I can recommend a few that are tactic-based.”
Jason nodded. “Cool. Actually, I’ve never had a phone before and don’t even know the basics. Think you can give me a crash course?”
Peter nodded eagerly, unaware that he was signing up to be Watson to Jason’s Sherlock. With a little bit of luck, they’d soon crack the case of the century.
Jason pressed down the power button with a nervous finger, the cell phone screen flashing before it died again. He thought he glimpsed an image of a red battery. Cursing under his breath, he looked toward Caesar’s private bathroom where the door was half-open, the sound of a shower hissing beyond. Jason felt a yearning in his heart, excitement in his body at being here in the morning when he shouldn’t be. He could forget all this mystery nonsense, sneak into the shower and reenact what they had done there a few nights ago.
But he wouldn’t. Jason glanced around, spotting a charger and hurriedly plugging in the phone. This time the screen stayed lit.
“One one one one,” he whispered as he typed it in.
Accepted! The menu that appeared was different from Peter’s phone, but he spotted what he needed right away. He toggled down to
messages
, then
texts
. He saw Steph’s name, feeling vindicated until he noticed all the messages below it.
Nathaniel. Nathaniel. Nathaniel. Over and over again.
Jason’s brow furrowed as he tried to connect the name to a face, but he couldn’t. He chose Steph’s message first, hoping it would give him reason to shut the phone off and hop in the shower with Caesar.
Not mad. Just wanted to get back to Kurt. Don’t you have someone else to text?
Okay. That wasn’t too promising. Steph seemed angry about Caesar texting with someone. That person had to be Nathaniel. Mouth dry and pulse racing, Jason toggled to the previous screen. He skipped down five or six messages to get a better idea of the conversation, desperate to see what Nathaniel had to say.
sick of class. sick of studying. sick of everything.
Okay, not exactly damning. Jason’s heart slowed a little as he went for the message that followed.
no im not sick of you.
Uh-oh! Jason hurried to the next one.
of course I still want to. when and where?
Oh god! Jason struggled to remember what Peter had said about viewing sent messages. He needed to know what Caesar was saying. Maybe this one-sided conversation made it sound worse than it was. But first, Jason wanted to finish reading these.
ok ill be there.
So they were meeting somewhere.
i love you too.
Bad enough, but the “too” really made Jason’s stomach sink. He struggled to find a way of making this statement sound innocent. A relative, maybe? Could Caesar be texting with his grandpa? But it was doubtful an old man still went to classes or texted. A cousin? The next and final message killed this train of thought.
sweet dreams my lonely prince.
The hissing shower went silent, the metal hooks of the curtain clanging against each other. Jason almost fled from the room, but instead he remained motionless. When an electric toothbrush started buzzing, he rushed through menus again.
Sent messages
. He traveled backwards through the history of texts Caesar had written.
Steph! Why did you rush off tonight?
Sleep well my handsome king.
I love you.
Sunday, noon, campus library.
That was everything he needed. Jason shut off the phone and started to turn away, remembering at the last moment to unplug it from the power cord. Then he hurried to the bedroom door, peering through the crack as he quietly closed it behind him. The last thing he saw was Caesar strolling into the room, towel-drying his hair as he went for clothes. One final fleeting image, beautiful and inviting, that made the pain in Jason’s heart so much worse.
* * * * *
Clouds gathered above, promising a late appearance of those famous April showers, accompanied by hint of summer manifesting in the form of thunder. Jason wiped the sweat from his brow, cursing the humidity and wishing the storm would break, even if he ended up soaked. Picking up the pace, he wondered if he was headed in the right direction. So far he’d been walking more than an hour. The maps on Peter’s computer yesterday had made the university appear much closer than it actually was. If Jason didn’t get there soon, he would miss… Well, whatever awaited him.
His stomach twisted with anxiety, just as it had all day yesterday. For once he was grateful for the chores and the rewards that followed—this time lunch out and a movie—since this gave him an excuse to avoid Caesar. Until Jason knew the truth, he didn’t want to be around him. But as night fell, he tried a different approach. Or he grew weak. Either way, he went to Caesar’s room and spent more time than usual with him, hoping that if they slept together, the morning appointment with Nathaniel would become unwanted. When they had sex, Jason put all of himself into every motion, every kiss, believing it could be the cure. He hadn’t spoken much either, providing silence that Caesar might fill with a confession. But he didn’t.
This morning Jason had played sick to avoid church. Mrs. Hubbard clearly didn’t believe him, but he made it clear that he didn’t give a shit. She wasn’t happy with the return of his defiance, but that was the least of his concerns right now.
Trying to get his bearings, Jason went to a bus stop to check the map. Still uncertain, he turned around and saw a bus approaching with
University
illuminated on the destination display. He waved it down, which was silly, considering he was at a bus stop, but he didn’t want to miss this opportunity. One minute later he was seated, the speed of his pulse increasing along with the bus.
His heartbeat continued working overtime when he reached the University of Houston. After twenty minutes of wandering the campus, he finally found the library, although upon entering, the architecture resembled more a shopping mall that dealt only in books. The floors above were open to each other, high-set windows illuminating the hall. Wings full of knowledge spread out to the left and right.
Checking the clock, Jason saw he still had half an hour to spare, but that now seemed too little time to search this place. Waiting by the doors until Caesar showed up was an option, but that wouldn’t reveal what Jason wanted to know. He needed to catch Caesar in the act, if there was anything to catch at all.
Jason began wandering the library, looking at people instead of books. Maybe Nathaniel was here already, waiting with just as much impatience as he texted with. He half expected to see a young guy hammering away on his phone, urging Caesar to hurry. Every handsome face Jason passed—and he saw plenty of them—made him instantly suspicious, but none seemed to be waiting.
With no viable suspects on the first floor, Jason decided to try the second. After walking up and down a few rows, he spotted a guy seated at a table. Blond hair, a chiseled chin, and beefy shoulders. Jason would have done a double take even if he were looking for a book instead of a person. Was this Nathaniel? Whoever he was, the man’s attention wasn’t on the book in his hands. Instead he kept looking over the rails to the lower floor. From his position, he had a perfect view of the entrance.
Jason kept him in mind as he walked, returning not once but twice. Sure enough, the man’s focus remained on the doors below. Having eyed him from multiple angles now, Jason could see that the man’s body was just as chiseled as that chin. He hoped desperately that he had the wrong guy, but when the man pulled out his cell phone to check it, Jason knew. This was Nathaniel.
Jason’s heart felt like it wanted to implode. He found an aisle to hide in and observe undetected. Copying the very person he was stalking, he took a book off the shelf that he never looked at. He stared over it, trying to fight off crushing despair. How old was Nathaniel? Older than Caesar, that was for sure. He was definitely a student here, if not a teacher. The more Jason sized him up, the more he felt like a boy, because Nathaniel was manly. Stubble on his chin, an all-over tan that came from being outdoors, and those stupid muscles that Jason wished he didn’t find attractive.
With nothing better to do while he waited, Jason tortured himself by trying to picture Caesar sleeping with this man. Would he still be a top for someone so much larger? Or did Caesar make an exception when those meaty arms were wrapped around him?
Nathaniel perked up and quickly pretended to be reading, when really he was grinning behind his book. Caesar must have arrived. Waiting for him to appear was grueling. Half an hour seemed to go by before Caesar finally appeared, sneaking up to the table and snatching the book away. Nathaniel didn’t look the least bit surprised, which made Caesar laugh. Then Caesar leaned across the table and nuzzled his nose against Nathaniel’s.
This little sign of affection was much worse than the kiss that followed. Caesar had never done that to Jason, had never gently touched their noses together like two kittens in greeting. Something so simple and innocent spoke of love, a word that Jason hadn’t realized was missing until he had seen it spelled out in a cold cell phone font. He and Caesar didn’t touch noses, nor did they say that special little word. And why? Jason simply hadn’t known to—didn’t have the experience to recognize when such a word was appropriate. Caesar did and had chosen not to use it. The reason stood before him, much closer than before since Jason’s feet had brought him out of the aisle and into the open.
Nathaniel spotted him first, reacting with a flicker of irritation at being stared at. This caused Caesar to turn his head. That’s when the sound escaped Jason’s throat. Like a pained hiccup or maybe air being forced out by a punch to the stomach. All he knew was that it sounded pathetic and communicated perfectly how he felt. Part of Jason felt like running, but then again, he’d come here to learn the truth. This is what he’d expected to see, and rather than flee from it, he would face it. Let Caesar see how much he hurt! Let that expression of surprise turn to one of regret when he saw the damage he’d done.
Much to Jason’s surprise, that was exactly what happened. Caesar’s expression became one of pained sympathy.
Increased irritation marred Nathaniel’s features. “What are you staring at?”
Caesar opened his mouth to explain. “I know him. He’s my foster brother.”
Jason hated him for drawing that line, for using a term he knew neither of them believed in, but it only got worse when Nathaniel responded.
“Peter?”
“No,” Caesar said. “This is Jason, the new one.”
“Ah.” Nathaniel reappraised him, then he stood, stepped forward, and offered a hand. He was grinning, but there was something ironic about it. “In that case, it’s nice to finally meet my new baby brother.”
Jason stared at his hand. “You’re a Hubbard?”
“No more than you are.” Nathaniel’s voice was bitter. “How’s my old room?”
Jason looked between them, putting the pieces together. At first he felt relief. Nathaniel was just another foster kid, one older than them, one everyone had somehow failed to mention. Caesar being here, their relationship and the declarations of love—they were all innocent. Except that kiss proved they weren’t, and the bitterness that hardened Nathaniel’s smile implied his history with the Hubbards wasn’t a happy one. Caesar opened his mouth to explain, but Jason shook his head. Instead he addressed Nathaniel. “Your old room is about to become available again. Feel free to move back in.”
Then he turned, ignoring the sound of his name being called, glaring when it echoed through the library a second time.
Jason walked. He had no need to run. Caesar would never give chase, always expecting Jason to come to him. Only Nathaniel had the privilege of summoning Caesar, the handsome king awaiting his perfect prince. And what was Jason? The way he felt now, he was nothing more than a foolish peasant.
* * * * *
It took Jason three hours to find his way home. He walked the entire way, getting lost in both thought and direction. Anguish seized him repeatedly, but he refused to cry. He focused instead on anger, trying to transmute his love for Caesar into hate. Sometimes he thought he was successful, but that urge kept returning: Jason wanted to be with Caesar. That was impossible now. He knew this. But he couldn’t help wishing Nathaniel didn’t exist or that Caesar would choose him instead. He kept looking over his shoulder, hoping to see a silver sports car pulling up, a concerned face behind the windshield. Each time Jason turned around, he was disappointed.
By the time he walked in the front door, he was starving and exhausted.
Almost immediately, Mrs. Hubbard stepped into his path. “You’re grounded!”
Jason ignored this, walking around her and heading for the stairs.
“Where were you?” she shouted after him.
Jason went to his room, shut the door, and reached for a lock that wasn’t there. When he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, he threw himself on the bed and covered his head with a pillow. He could still hear the words, both Mr. and Mrs. Hubbard yelling at him or trying to pull away his pillow, but Jason held on tightly until they gave up and left.
When he was sure the coast was clear, he went to the bathroom and drank from the sink.
“Are you okay?” Amy stood in the doorway, a plush pony under one arm.
“No,” Jason said. “I’m not.”
“You can hide in my room if you want.”
He was tempted to accept, but he knew it would only spark a house-wide search for him, and he didn’t want Amy seeing the Hubbards yelling at him. “I need to stay in mine,” Jason said, heading for the hall.
Amy didn’t move out of the way. “Are they going to make you leave? I hate it when people go away.”