Nic's Story

Part 3

Chapter 3.

The end of August was hot. Outside dust stuck to me like to a lint roller. It was annoying. I was sitting across an old hammock on the veranda, swinging back and forth with my hand in the pants. Something was melting down there. I inadvertently took my hand out and sniffed the sweat of my private parts.

"Ready?" Hugo, my supervising tutor materialised on the veranda.

 I gracefully fell from the hammock.

"Sure"

George hired Hugo for my homeschooling.  Hugo was in his early twenties, very attractive and he just seen me sniff myself. Can I die now, please?

He walked inside the house and headed straight for the study area set up in the living room. He made himself comfortable. He was not shy.

"Have a seat". He pointed to a chair next to him.

I was the host but somehow I was the one following Hugo's lead. I cautiously landed next to him.

"Everything ok with you?" He enquired leisurely. His brown hair was messy from the motorcycle helmet. He tried to tame it with his hand but it just would not obey.

I nodded and lowered my eyes. I could not hold his stares. Why did he have to be so handsome?

No meeting with Hugo went smoothly in my head. The first time we met was as bad. He arrived on his sporty beast, dressed in all black like a vigilante hero. I was so smitten I forgot human language. Hugo asked me what my favourite subject was, I said Maths. Maths! So not! Art is my favourite subject. Always have been. Why did I say Maths? I panicked. I thought of correcting my answer, but I did not know how to. The longer I kept silent the weirder my correction was becoming. I did not want Hugo to think I cannot control what I say... I had to improve my Maths.

"Is Lisa in?" He asked.

A big wave of jealousy went through me.

"Lisa is like 50 years old." I blurted out. She was not. She was in her late thirties.

Hugo seemed unsure why I mentioned her age. "I thought she was younger than George".

"Not at all".

"Well..." Hugo said. "I need to speak to her.." He did not finish. Lisa was coming downstairs. 

"I heard my name" Lisa murmured in her 'nice to police' voice.

Hugo stood up to greet her. I followed annoyed face first.

"You are later than usual," I said  "The bartenders at Ram's Horn have called for a search party".

Lisa ignored my rudeness. She gave her hand to Hugo, palm down, as if for a kiss. "What is she? Elizabeth from the Pride and Prejudice?" I was ready to put her down. I did not care she was my own mom. I did not trust her with men. Hugo, did not kiss her hand, instead he shook it. She tried her usual shoulder strap and cleavage pulling.  I felt embarrassed for her. Hugo did not play along. He started to talk about papers, exams and other school stuff. I was glad. Organisational matters bore Lisa. The more Hugo tried to involve her, the more she resented. She kept referring him to George for anything she could. She would have put George as my emergency contact if she realised she could do so.

"How do you find it here?" Hugo asked me when Lisa finally made an excuse to vanish. I shrugged my shoulders. "I like it here".

"Do you miss your classmates?"

I imagined couple of my former school fellows and shook my head.

"No, not really".

"Not a single person?"

I browsed through my memory again. I did have one friend, Aaron. Aaron and I became friends last year, when Caleb pushed me into a mud puddle at a charity event. Everyone laughed and Aaron helped me get up. Aaron was nice, but I would be lying if I said I missed him. We texted each other from time to time now that I had a phone, that was enough for me. I shook my head.

"No, I was a misfit".

Hugo grinned.

"A misfit! My favourite type!"

I hoped he did not see the lightning that struck me at that moment. I knew Hugo was simply being friendly. But I wished he really liked me.

Hugo was a local guy. He took on teaching to help fund his motorcycle obsession, though he told me it was because he wanted to build the foundation of the country's future through cultivating minds of new generations, shit like that. Hugo could wrap any mundane fact into a higher philosophical bs. He would often challenge me into conversations, I barely understood. To be honest I was more captivated by his tattoos and his lips than his philosophical outbursts. I loved his lips. After a year I could be awarded a Doctorate on his lips. I studied them that diligently. His upper lip was bold, protruding, with a wicked curve. It never sat still. The bottom lip was straight, grounded, occasionally disappearing behind the perfect front teeth. Whenever he pronounced "Fs" and "Vs" my heart missed a beat.

Oblivious to what I was feeling Hugo sat casually next to me, in a simple black t-shirt and simple black jeans that did not do a good job of hiding his gorgeous body.

I admired him and I thought I will never look as cool as him, even if I make an effort. I did not know how to look cool. It did not help that my teen body parts were morphing into their grown up versions at various speeds. I looked distorted.

I placed my arm an inch away from Hugo's in the hope that if Hugo gets distracted his bare skin might accidentally touch mine. It never happened.

Since Hugo appeared in my life I got better at Maths, I already explained why, and I also got happier. I was never a miserable person but I never been a jolly kind either. I was cynical beyond years. I could smile now and mean it. I was also an inch warmer to Lisa, subject to Hugo not paying attention to her womanly charms. I was in love. 

Of course I had to hide my feelings from everyone, perpetuateing it in my art instead. At some point there were so many pieces, I had to brave it and ask George for a studio. George owned a massive house and surely one room could be spared for my art. George, as a true businessman, asked to see 'the pictures' first. He needed to know what he was exchanging the space for. I did not mind showing him my work but it would out me. How would George take it? It was too late to back out though, so I brought him a painting of two random guys on a beach, sitting next to each other, watching the sunset. They were not random, they were Hugo and me. But it was hard to tell, as the figures were too small. George looked at it from different angles, even though it was not abstract, then returned it back.

"Not bad" he concluded.

"Can I use a room for a studio then?"

"Yes. Use the one next to yours." George nervously coughed. Here we go!

 "So you like lads"? He asked. 

That was the moment. Now or never. I stared into George's narrow eyes, so narrow you could not see the color of the iris and raised my voice at him, more so out of my own nerves:

"Is it an issue?"

"Hardly." He replied and added "I have some simple work at the farm you could do, if you want to earn a bit of cash. Let me know if you are interested".

That was the end of the conversation. Not too bad. The easier one was only with Lisa. I woke her up one morning and said 'I am gay'. She asked me what time it was and instructed me not to disturb her until 3 pm.