Spark (16 page)

It was weird to have his mom home after so many months of her being busy running Hugo’s dad to doctor appointments. Now she was around asking about homework and bringing him plates full of food, even waking early when she didn’t need to be up, just so they could talk over the breakfast table.

“I’m thinking of going back to work more regularly.”

Hugo looked up at his mom and nodded around his cereal spoon, a few drips of milk escaping and landing back in the bowl.

“I heard of an opening at St. Olaf Hospital in the general surgery department. Combined with my job in the clinic, I could work full-time.”

“That’s a lot of hours, Mom. You haven’t worked full-time since—since when?”

She folded the corner of her napkin over and took a leisurely sip of coffee before answering. “It’s been years. Before Charisse was born. I attempted to go back when you went to kindergarten, but it didn’t last long.”

“What about your back? You know you need to take care of your back.”

“Sweetie. I’ve been your dad’s full-time nurse for nearly two years now.”

“That’s different,” Hugo grumbled.

His mom smiled and reached for Hugo’s hand. “I appreciate your concern, but I need to work some. I need to stay busy, and since the last few years have been spent completely wrapped up in Dad, I don’t really have anything to distract me. I need something, Hugo.”

Hugo turned his hand over and gripped his mom’s fingers with his own. He knew what she was talking about. He had a lot to distract him and still, in the night when he lay in the quiet of his room, his mind would drift to dangerous places where he would get stuck in nooks and crannies that seemed to trap him in memories or surround him with fear.

It wasn’t just the loss of his father that would come into his head. He worried about his mom and sister, how they were coping with things, because on several occasions, he had walked in on one or both of them crying. Hugo didn’t know how to handle it without ending up depressed again, so he did the only thing he could think of. He hugged them or rubbed their backs. They inevitably reached out for his hand to pull him closer, holding him, squeezing him a little bit tighter.

Another place Hugo’s mind drifted was to Kevin. He was being more than helpful with schoolwork, and Hugo noticed Kevin acted as a buffer between him and their classmates, making greetings and sometimes carrying on entire conversations and including Hugo in subtle ways, even if it was something as simple as saying, “Yeah, we might see you at the party,” or “Tonight’s not good. Hugo and I have homework to do.”

Hugo also noticed Kevin seemed to be spending more time with him and less with Tricia. Kevin and Tricia were still together, but many times Hugo could count on Kevin entering the lunchroom and joining him instead of her. Kevin would also make his way toward Hugo in the hallways, easily leaving Tricia with just a few words.

Something else Hugo noticed was how Kevin seemed to be touching Tricia less. And when he thought about it, weeks had passed since he’d seen them kiss. Sure, he’d been far from observant, living in his own head much of the time, but once he had the thought, Hugo started to pay closer attention, even though seeing them together was hard.

The hardest thing for Hugo was watching Kevin smile at Tricia in the way that made his whole face transform. It had been weeks, months since Kevin had smiled at Hugo like that. He was always so cautious around Hugo, like he was afraid to show happiness.

“Elf delivery,” one of the bouncy cheerleaders who wasn’t Tricia said from the doorway of Hugo’s English class, bringing him out of his head. Corie was her name. A crumpled green hat sat on her dark-blonde head, and a tight vest was buttoned over her tiny breasts, pushing them close together. She walked in carrying a large basket filled with candy canes. The teacher allowed her to interrupt, and she stood in front of the room and started calling out names in an overly perky voice.

Moments like this made Hugo very glad he was gay; he was one of the few guys who wasn’t totally overtaken by the newly revealed cleavage. She was there to hand out candy canes friends and secret admirers had bought for each other. The proceeds could go toward funding the yearbook staff and supplying them with film for candid shots the seniors demanded be included in the tome. Some people got one or two red-and-white candy canes, some decorated with googly eyes and pipe cleaners for reindeer antlers. A few girls got green ones, which implied their boyfriends were horny for them, but the swirled rainbow sticks seemed to be the most popular choice. Apparently, they were fruit flavored, according to Stephanie’s declared, “Mmm, fruity.”

When Hugo’s name was called, he met Corie halfway up the aisle as she handed him a paper-wrapped bundle of six different solid-colored candy canes as well as a rainbow twisted one buried in the center of the bouquet. The rainbow stick slipped out the bottom, but Hugo managed to save it from crashing to the ground.

“Ooh-hoo!” one of the guys Hugo had known since kindergarten taunted with great delight. “Hugo got himself a fagalicious secret admirer.”

“Gah! Shut up,” Hugo’s friend Becca said. “It’s from a girl, idiot. Just suck on your plain old peppermint stick and mind your own business.” Hugo felt heat creep across his cheeks and ears, surely coloring his pale skin.

“Okay, that’s enough out of you, Mr. Ziegler,” Mr. Hanson said over Becca and then continued his lecture on Orwell’s
1984
. After several minutes of discussion, he rolled in the large television on a cart and started the film of the same novel.

It was only after his classmates were engrossed in the movie or had drifted off that he looked at the small, sealed envelope which had been attached to his candy canes. He slid the square piece of cardstock out and immediately recognized Kevin’s handwriting, even though it was signed by nothing but a large
X
that could be skewed as a crooked
K
if he squinted hard enough.

I miss you and I don’t want to lose you. When you’re ready, I’m here for more.

Hugo looked down at the card and then absently flipped it over to see more writing. A few underlined words jumped out. Kevin wanted to make those obvious.

Red because you woke me up and make me feel
alive
.

Orange because with your words you
heal
what my father breaks.

Yellow because your smile is like sunshine.

Green because of where I first kissed you. It was because you were
so beautiful
surrounded by the forest.

Blue because I feel
serenity
when I’m with you.

Violet because we are connected. I
feel you in me
all the time.

Rainbow because you showed me my
truth
, even though it has to remain a secret.

Hugo stared at the note and was just barely able to swallow down the thick lump lodged in his throat. Instead, he pulled the yellow candy cane from the bundle and opened it. He needed some sunshine. He needed Kevin to smile at him again, like he used to.

Love In Spite of Flaws,
’Cause We All Have ’Em

“T
HANK
you for not wearing a Speedo,” Summer said in a droll manner that fit perfectly in the midday heat of July. It was too hot to talk with any enthusiasm at all.

“This is a weekend about
not
drawing men to my gorgeous body but getting them to notice yours so you can get your mind off Jason. I figured it was the least I could do since I’m so tempting.”

“Hugo, you are such a shit.” Laughing, Summer paddled behind him. She knew how to canoe, or at least knew how to steer a canoe, better than he did, they’d quickly found out. Hugo was better used as the pure muscle up front.

“So are we actually going somewhere, to some locale, or are we just rowing a watercraft in a very large circle?” he asked as he dipped the blade of his oar in and out of the water in a steady rhythm.

Summer was quiet behind him as they paddled.

“Circles, it is,” Hugo mumbled, continuing to follow the shoreline several hundred feet away.

“What is it about me, Hugo? Why do I find these guys who seem amazing in the beginning but then end up being complete assholes? I mean, is it something about me that brings those characteristics out, or is it really just them?”

Hugo turned to look at Summer, not liking that he couldn’t study her face when she was talking like this. He was fearful she was heading back down into the slide of self-blame, so he pulled his oar out of the water and held it in a hand. Without tipping the canoe, Hugo spun on his ass and faced Summer. All the yoga classes paid off when it came to balance.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at my dearest friend so I can talk some sense into her.”

Dipping back into the water, Hugo started paddling in reverse, a few strokes on the left and then moving to the right and back again.

“Now, you already know part of what I’m going to say, right?” he asked.

Summer nodded and slowed her strokes. “Let’s head closer to the shore.” She pointed to an area that was shaded aside from the few rays of sun that were able to make it past the leaves overhead. She expertly steered the boat and brought them into a little cove with smooth water. Hugo put his oar behind him again to balance across the top edge of the canoe and leaned back, resting his elbows on the smooth wood—not the most comfortable position, but more relaxed than sitting upright. Summer mirrored his movements.

“You aren’t turning them into assholes. I know that,” Hugo said in a matter-of-fact tone, telling her she better not argue. “They were just assholes in hiding, like wolves in sheep’s clothes. Guys are like that. Girls probably are too, but I wouldn’t really know. We all put our best side out there until we get comfortable. Then, if we’re lucky in love, we start to feel safe. And it’s when we feel safe that we let it all hang out. Fart in front of each other. Kiss each other before brushing our teeth in the morning.”

Summer chuckled and shook her head. “You are such a guy.”

“I’ve been telling you that for years. Duh!”

“No, I mean, did you have to choose farting as an example?”

“What? Are you telling me you’ve never slipped a few out in front of anyone you dated? Not even Jason?” he challenged.

“Not on purpose!” Summer sounded scandalized.

“Well, no wonder it never worked out. You never really trusted him,” he said as if it were obvious.

“What do you mean?” Her brows were bunched together in an angry knot.

“Relax the brows, sweetie, or you’ll end up with wrinkles. Remember what I taught you? Up and away,” Hugo said as he drew his fingers across his brows in an exaggerated method reminiscent of Miss Cherrie Pop!. Summer shook her head but complied and smoothed her brow again. “What I mean is this. If you can’t relax enough around a guy to just let go from time to time—not all the time, mind you. That’s just gross—then how do you know you can really be yourself or if he loves
you
?”

Summer scowled again, and Hugo could see she was gearing up for an argument.

“No. Summer, listen. We all hold back. We hold on to those dirty little secrets, and some that aren’t so little, like my daddy issues. We suck in our guts and stick out our chests. We slather shit on our lips to make them smooth and kissable when in reality, they’re dry and flakey underneath. We wear crisp shirts and Italian shoes and tight jeans to make our asses look amazing. But what do we do the second we get home?”

“Pajamas and ice cream,” Summer droned and then smiled as if it sounded like something she wanted to do right then.

“Exactly. We come home and take off our
costumes
and collapse on the couch or sit in front of the computer to read what we want or catch up with online friends who like us for our snark and don’t give a shit what we look like.” Hugo sat up, leaning closer to Summer so she would see how serious he was being. “Don’t you want to be with someone who walks into the living room, who sees you wearing your flannel jammies with a pint of ice cream in hand and who will still tell you you’re perfect just like that, even if your mascara is smudged because you just got done watching a sad movie?”

Summer stared at him for long minutes and tears filled her eyes.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever had that with, Hugo. You’re it.”

“Well, honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever had pure acceptance with a boyfriend either. But that’s what I’m looking for. Not everything we eventually let our boyfriends see is cute or even appreciated. And the same goes for them.”

“So I’ve been consistently dating guys who were fuckers from the start?” she challenged.

“Maybe. Or, very possibly, you’re seeing things you don’t like and then having a hard time seeing anything else. Even the good stuff.” Summer took a breath to speak, but Hugo spoke first. “Jason and Michael and all cheaters are not included in that. Don’t ever look past cheating, especially if it happens early in the relationship, if it’s not discussed with you ahead of time, or if you just can’t handle your man ever being with another.”

Summer squinted while she processed his words, as if trying to read the existence of hidden knowledge beneath his words, but she didn’t press him for more information.

“So, cheating aside,” she hesitated and reached in front of her to find her water bottle. She pressed the cool aluminum SIGG to her forehead before opening it to take a few sips. “Cheating aside, do you think I’m expecting perfection?”

“I don’t know that you’re expecting perfection. We all
want
perfection, but we’ll never find it because it’s a farce. We’d be alone forever if we waited on that. No. What I’m saying is that we find guys who are great up to a point. They get comfortable and loosen up, and rather than remembering all those good things that made us fall for them in the first place, I think we both get caught up on all of the flaws that are suddenly revealed. Well, suddenly to us, but in reality, it all comes gradually. But then we
wake up
to everything wrong about them, and pretty soon that’s all we see. We’re basically shooting ourselves in the foot by forgetting all the good stuff.”