Hunt Me Down - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Nathaniel’s POV
Val whistled as we looked around the vast grounds that was our host’s yard; a place big enough to have a garden with several large flower patches, another with bulky trees and its own parking lot which could easily accommodate six cars. No vehicles were in sight though as the space was occupied by a group of teenagers, all of whom holding red plastic cups. Judging by their elevated demeanor, neither of them was chugging on water tonight.
“Lyn wasn’t kidding when she said this Josh dude’s parents were loaded,” my sister said as we walked the paved path that led to the front double doors, the music and chatter getting louder with each step we took.
“‘Bout time you got here,” Lyn greeted, hugging Hunter and patting him twice on the back.
“Where’s your brother?” The blond boy asked as he searched for the familiar face in the few groups that had formed on the porch.
“At the back, getting high by the pool. I swear, he’s an idiot. He could get so out of it and fall into that thing and drown. Doesn’t he realize that?” She shook her head. “Brothers can be dumb.”
“Not mine; he’s the smart one in the family,” Val noted without sarcasm or jealousy.
“And the shy one,” Mohawk girl added, taking me in. “There’s just something so tempting about the shy ones, right, Hunt?”
I startled at her words.
Did she mean “the shy ones” as in people or as in boys?
Did she know?
Once again, I pondered on how many of Hunt’s friends knew about him being gay. It wasn’t as if he was hiding it but then again I had not seen him with anyone at school. Maybe he’d hook up with someone at the party?
Maybe I’d see him use the exact same cocky smile and flirty jests he used on me…
“Why are you frowning, bro?” Vallery asked.
“I’m not frowning,” I protested on impulse.
“You were,” Lyn backed up my twin. “But don’t worry – we’ve got enough alcohol to cheer anyone up.”
“I’m not drinking. I’m here to babysit, remember?”
I’d never developed a taste for alcohol in the first place. Most types were a vile liquid which left your throat burning and messed with your mind. I looked around at all the beverage-induced smiles and wondered how people could willingly put themselves through dehydration and headaches – sometimes even through memory loss – just because someone at some point had decided it was the cool thing to do.
“I’ll take care of you if you get drunk.” Hunter said with a wink.
“Are you sure you are not going to be busy taking care of someone else?” I asked, positive that tonight I’d see my neighbor unleash his charms on someone else and mess with their head. It was in that instance that I realized Hunter was like alcohol – he kept you away from rationality and a good judgment. But even if I had knowledge and experience with drinks, I still wouldn’t be able to brand him as a particular any type of alcohol; he was such a confusing mixture of morals and irresponsibility, of sensible and bizarre reasoning, that he’d make a cocktail so complicated that even the most skilled of bartenders would have trouble concocting.
“I promised your mom to keep my eyes on you,” he reminded. “And I’m a guy of my word.”
“Thanks but I don’t want to get in your way.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” he replied with a small, almost sweet smile which I’d never seen him display before. “Besides, I took care of Val the last time so it’s your turn now.”
“Thanks for calling a cab that night and chaperoning her home; I really appreciate it. But…” I started walking towards the double doors and the three of them followed. “I’m still not drinking. I’m the responsible twin.”
“Nathaniel Reed, life is way too short to take everything seriously and always be the responsible one,” Hunt insisted, holding the door opened for me. “Have some fun!”
“I can have fun sober, Hunt. I really can,” I raised my voice once we were inside. “It’s just not your type of fun,” I added, looking at even more elevated faces and a forest of red plastic cups; you could see them everywhere – in people’s hands, on tables, on the floor, even some perched up on a weird and expensive-looking statue which seemed to consist of squares and circles, randomly sprinkled on top of each other and soldered together. I supposed some would call that art.
“Then what do you consider fun?” The blond asked, his voice rising over the chatter and a song by who I believed to be Nicki Minaj.
I did not reply.
“It’s writing, isn’t it?” He guessed with a smile and Lyn’s pierced right eyebrow lifted up.
“Sometimes. But sometimes it’s…” I was not ready to disclose exactly what writing was to me. Not now, not to him and not with Mohawk girl within earshot. It was a very personal subject to me and only a few people – Vallery amongst them, of course – had heard me talk on the matter without constraint. “Writing is just homework sometimes.”
“Boy, you are a lousy liar. That wasn’t what you were about to say,” Lyn commented with another shake of her head.
“That’s what Hunt and I keep telling him. By the way, bro, did you notice the weird number plate on the car that drove us here?”
“No, Val, I don’t look at number plates.”
“Number plate?” A slightly slurred voice repeated and it’s owner – a tall brunette – turned sideways to face us.
“That’s their English for ‘license plate’,” her shorter and blonde companion clarified before taking a sip of her cup. “I love your accent, by the way.”
“Ugh! What’s with you Americans and British accents?” Val crossed her arm over her chest.
“It only works on guys though; yours is annoying,” Blondie replied with a tight smile.
“So is your voice,” my sister shot back.
“Val, please.” I lightly squeezed her hand for a second before she pulled it away with a resigning sigh.
“I’ll go get a drink.”
“Just one, Val…” I tried to follow her and slip between the crowd like she’d done but was prevented by the taller girl who wrapped her drink-free arm around my right one. Blondie did the same to my left.
“Your sister will be fine,” the blonde flung waved her hand, spilling some of her beverage. “Stay with us.”
“Yeah, tell us more words in your English,” her friend insisted. “How do you guys say…” She gazed around and named the first object that came into sight. “How do you say ‘a table’?”
“A table,” I replied, making a discreet and vain attempt to get out of their grips. The girls were unusually strong for their slim built.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, a tad disappointed. “And how do you say…”
“Sluts? Don’t worry, they’ll call you two the same even if you go to England.” I felt an even tighter grip as Lyn grabbed me above the elbow and successfully pulled me away. “So you probably want to find your sister, huh?”
“Yes, that would be…”
“I’ll help you with that,” she offered, still pulling me trough the crown in the general direction in which Val had disappeared.
“Seems like you’ve taken a fancy to Natty here.” Hunt stated and as I turned around I saw a small amused smile on his lips.
He didn’t mind her taking a fancy to me?
“You should really learn to share, Hunter,” Lyn replied.
“Share?” I repeated.
“Aren’t you two screwing?”
I immediately stopped and pulled my arm out of her hand.
“What? No!”
“Then why is he so nice to ya? I thought you must be amazing in bed. You know, a closet slut or something,” she said, her forehead wrinkling.
“I am not… I don’t even…”
“Does he always turn bright red so easily?” Lyn had turned her attention towards Hunt.
“When it’s about sleeping with people, yeah,” he replied with a shrug. The answer seemed to satisfy her as she began walking again but took only one step before turning around to ask me:
“You are not a virgin, are you?”
“I am not a virgin,” I emphasized the negative.
“You sure blush like one.”
“I…” Just like Val, she had vanished amongst the dancing guests before I had a chance to finish my sentence.
“I guess it’s just the two of us now,” Hunter smirked.
“And about fifty other people,” I gestured around us.
He shook his head, still smiling.
“Let’s go find Val, Natty.”
He took charge and led the way.
“Hunt,” I grabbed his arm and he turned to me with surprise in his eyes. Realizing, this was the first time I’d touched him by my volition, I quickly let go. “Why did Mohawk gi… Lyn think that… You know… That we were…” He grinned and placed his hands over his chest. “You want me to say it, don’t you?”
“I want to hear you say the word ‘fuck’. Have you ever spoken dirty or cussed at anyone?”
“I don’t cuss often, but I’ve done it. I sometimes say ‘to Hell with it’.”
“You are so hardcore, Natty.”
“Why do I even bother talking to you when you only make fun of me?” I looked away, my cheeks heating up again. I swore this boy must have some special superpower that gave him control over other people’s blood circulation.
“I’m not making fun of you; I’m just teasing.”
After what felt to me as a very long silence, I spoke up:
“Does any of your other friend think like Lyn?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Do all of them know?” I lowered my voice so that others wouldn’t eavesdrop but made sure it was loud enough for Hunt to hear over the music; this time I recognized the tiny, girlie voice of Ariana Grande.
“Some do, some don’t. Some wouldn’t be around me if they knew,” he replied in a very careless manner.
“So you hide it from them?”
“No, I just haven’t had a reason to tell some of them. Although sometimes I’m tempted to grab the nearest guy and kiss him just to see the shock on their faces.”
“I’d imagine some of them would want to hit you for that,” I stated and tried to ignore the pain which the idea of a bruised up Hunter brought.
“Then I would hit them back,” was his simple reply.
Even though a party full of people was not the best place, I had to ask; the image of him coming home with a face and torso covered in wounds made me twitchy to say the least.
“Have you gotten in much trouble because of it? I mean, is it difficult being gay?”
“Is it difficult being straight?”
Was he deflecting the question?
Probably. But his next words distracted me enough to temporarily stop ponder on his answer:
“Or to think you are.”
“I am, so don’t get any ideas,” I insisted.
“Then stop checking me out.”
“I’ve never checked you out!” I spoke somewhat louder than before yet no one turned to look at us. For the first time since I came to this party, I was glad it was full of hormone-ruled teenagers; they were too busy hooking up to pay attention to our conversation.
“You do when I climb through your window,” he went on with a straight face.
“I watch you so I can help you if you slip. It’s different. I’m not…”
His mask crumbled and his features contorted into a smile as he let out a laugh, the excess blood returning to my face shortly after it had left it.
“You were just messing with me again?”
“Kind of.”
“Great news.” Lyn was back with one of the plastic cups in her hand and a glossy look to her eyes.
“You’ve found Val?” I assumed.
“No, but I found the drinking roulette.” I turned to Hunter, hoping he’d clarify.
“The roulette has a shot glass that corresponds to a number,” he started to explain. “You take your turn and then you chug the glass with the number you got. It’s usually done with different alcohol in each shot so you never know what you might get.”
“It’s pretty fun,” Lyn added.
“I’ll pass,” I commented and to my surprise Hunt smiled.
“I have one back at Boot Camp Aunt’s place so if you ever want to try it in a safer environment…”
“Safer? With you?” Mohawk girl snorted. “Oh, and by the way, Val’s already been there. I’d just missed her after she’d played a few rounds of the roulette.”
“So she’s had a few shots?”
“Yep.”
“How many?” I begged for a number smaller than three.
“How should I know?” She shrugged and led us towards the roulette. As we walked there, all I could think about was that a sober Val was trouble; a tipsy or maybe even drunk Val - even more so.