Hunt Me Down - Chapter 43: Chapter 43
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Vallery’s POV
My nose wrinkled when my mother stirred the stew, the smell of onions hitting me hard; she’d put way too many in it this time. She usually followed recipes to a t, but she was distracted today and understandably so.
It was noon and my brother had yet to come down. He’d skipped breakfast and was now on his way of skipping lunch. Our parents thought he had an upset stomach – mom blamed the food at the Johnson’s for that – but I knew the truth: he hadn’t gotten over what had happened last night at the party.
Even though I was aware that he needed time to compose himself, I was trying to come up with ideas to distract him. The first one was to ask Raiden to come over; I would even borrow money to pay for his ticket if he could not afford it. The redhead had approved of that plan, minus the me paying part. The problem was the timing: Nat would wish to be alone for the next few days and after that came Christmas – a family holiday which Rai should celebrate with his mother and father. He could, of course, come in the space after Boxing Day and before New Year, but would that be too late?
How long were my parents going to buy the stomach bug excuse?
If Nathaniel didn’t want to talk to them, it would be up to me to come up with excuses for him. I sighed, thinking I could really use the backup. Yet I felt that asking Raiden to fly over here because of my family, abandoning his own on Christmas was too much, so in the end, I was on my own.
I definitely couldn’t ask Hunter for help, not after last night. He would still be angry and who could blame him for that?
As much as I loved my brother, he was at fault. I wasn’t mad at him about it; I sympathized with him, but of all the times he could’ve acted on impulse, did it have to be now?
I couldn’t believe that I was the one calling him unreasonable – I’ve messed up so many times that I couldn’t even count that high – but I was so used to him being the calm and rational one that if I had not seen the boys’ reactions last evening, I’d think Hunt was pulling my leg when he told me what had taken place.
This really wasn’t like Nat; he always thought of others first, he always calculated the outcome of his decisions… Yet he’d done something in haste and as a result our friend was hurt.
Maybe I had underestimated Hunter’s influence over him; maybe it was wrong of me to try and get them together; maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation, if I spent more time with Nathaniel and talked to him about what he may be feeling towards our neighbor instead of tease him about it.
Was this partially my fault?
Was I pushing my twin too far?
The Vegas thing had definitely gone too far…
“Ruined; completely ruined!” My mother grumbled, throwing the large spoon she used for stirring in the sink. “Now what will your brother eat? I made this especially for his upset tummy but I can’t serve him this; it reeks of onions.”
I got off the stool and walked out of the kitchen without replying. The beginning of her tirade – I knew my mother; this was just the beginning – was rhetorical to start with. Plus, it wasn’t my twin’s tummy that was upset; it was Nathaniel himself.
I was about to walk into the living room, but took a sharp turn when I saw my father seated in one of the sofas, a newspaper in his hands. I knew he wouldn’t pay me much attention, but he could ask ‘How is your brother?’ and I wasn’t up for another lie. It was only now that I realized how hard it must be for Nat to cover for me, especially considering he was the more honest sibling.
As I dragged myself up the stairs, I once again pondered on what I could do to distract him. I came up with at least twenty fun activities before I reached the second storey landing, but none of them would seem entertaining for him even when he had a good day. What were the odds of getting a decent reply if I googled ‘my brother who thought was heterosexual made up with the gay guy next door and is freaking out; how can I help him’?
I realized I’d stopped in front of his door and reached up to knock. I hesitated, standing with my arm outstretch. Before I could make up my mind, the door opened and Nat startled to see me there, my fisted hand at the level of his chest.
“Hey,” I muttered, pulling back my arm.
“Hey,” he replied quietly.
*****
Nathaniel’s POV
… Hunter Harris is a most selfish, self-centered hustler… Like a lustful demon, he seduces the innocent only for entertainment… incapable of true feelings… chaser of his own pleasure… careless about the sentiments of others…
My eyes kept scanning over what I’d penned down in my diary at the wee hours of the mornings. The little extracts – a creation of my own disturbed mind – brought me shame.
He had kissed me, but I’d kissed him back.
He’d kissed me and I’d enjoyed it.
I had craved it.
And then I’d gotten scared and ran away. That had not been Hunter’s fault; it had been mine.
I was the insecure one, I was the one who was afraid of all those new sensations that had driven me wild and of what others would think if they’d found out about how I felt for him.
I owed him an apology, but I wasn’t sure how to phrase it so that he’d forgive me. Was it even possible to do so?
Did I deserve pardon after leading him on?
I wanted to explain to him what liking a guy meant to me and why was I so scared of that notion, but would he listen?
Had I wasted my chances?
Besides, what was I to tell him: ‘Hunter, you’ve been chasing after me for months, we’d kissed, I like you, but I don’t know if I want to be with you?’
Could I ask him to give me more time to figure things out?
To put them into perspective, to come up with a plan – God, I needed a plan! – and see how it would work out?
And wouldn’t that be misleading him even further?
What was I actually asking him?
For the two of us to sneak around, to arrange secret rendezvous, while I’m still unsure whether I could go through that and would likely one day say ‘I’m not ready, goodbye’?
That was so unfair to him; I couldn’t do it. I should try my hardest to apologize and tell him I needed time to think things through without giving him any false hopes. Yes, that was the right thing to do.
I closed my diary, placing it over my desk, and headed for the door. I opened it and halted, my mouth gaping as I saw my sister with her bottom lip between her teeth. Her arm was outstretched as if she was just about to knock.
“Hey,” she greeted, retrieving her limb.
“Hey,” I returned almost silently.
“You planning to come down for lunch?” She asked in an overly cheery manner. “‘Cause by the smell of it, it could very well be poisonous…”
“Vallery,” I interrupted, “I know you want to help me but there’s something I need to do.” She raised an eyebrow. “I need to talk to Hunter.”
I moved past her before she could compose herself and reply and closed the door to my room behind me. I walked towards the staircase in quick, determined strides that didn’t falter even as I heard her shout for me to wait. A moment later, just atop of the staircase, a hand circled around my wrist, stopping me.
“I’ll go ahead and distract mom in the kitchen; dad’s already busy with the paper.” She gave me a smile which she probably hoped to pass as reassuring, but instead came out as tentative. I nodded and let her run down before me, grateful that she knew me well enough to accurately assume I’d rather avoid our parents for the time being. I waited for about a minute before I came down as well, dashing through the hallway in case our mother chose to look that way.
I closed the front door as quietly as I could and sped through our yard, jumping over the fence. As my feet reached their garden, my resolve diminished.
The first discouraging sign was he crunch that came from beneath my sneakers which – once I pulled my left leg up – I concluded was the result of me landing on a piece of plastic, the same color as that of the Harris’ outdoor furniture; the second indication that something was wrong was the realization that said furniture was smashed into pieces, one of which – a leg of a chair – decorating the hedge just below the tree that grew outside my window.
Cold sweat coated my palms and my mouth took the shape of the letter ‘o’ as I remembered all the racket I’d heard last night; racket that in my misery I’d tried to ignore and did not ponder over its source. But now I had no doubt who the culprit had been or of the motives for his actions.
I gulped to ease the dryness in my throat and took a deep breath. Even though Hunter had been far more upset than I’d anticipated, I was still adamant that I owed him an apology and so I took one slow step after the other, eventually ending in front of his door.
My heart was beating fast when I reached a trembling hand and knocked. When I heard no noise from inside I knocked again, louder, and just for good measure – in case he was upstairs – I rang the bell. The sound of footsteps became more prominent and I inhaled once again, hoping beyond hope that I was at least a bit ready for what would without a doubt be the most difficult conversation up until this point in my life.
My nose wrinkled when my mother stirred the stew, the smell of onions hitting me hard; she’d put way too many in it this time. She usually followed recipes to a t, but she was distracted today and understandably so.
It was noon and my brother had yet to come down. He’d skipped breakfast and was now on his way of skipping lunch. Our parents thought he had an upset stomach – mom blamed the food at the Johnson’s for that – but I knew the truth: he hadn’t gotten over what had happened last night at the party.
Even though I was aware that he needed time to compose himself, I was trying to come up with ideas to distract him. The first one was to ask Raiden to come over; I would even borrow money to pay for his ticket if he could not afford it. The redhead had approved of that plan, minus the me paying part. The problem was the timing: Nat would wish to be alone for the next few days and after that came Christmas – a family holiday which Rai should celebrate with his mother and father. He could, of course, come in the space after Boxing Day and before New Year, but would that be too late?
How long were my parents going to buy the stomach bug excuse?
If Nathaniel didn’t want to talk to them, it would be up to me to come up with excuses for him. I sighed, thinking I could really use the backup. Yet I felt that asking Raiden to fly over here because of my family, abandoning his own on Christmas was too much, so in the end, I was on my own.
I definitely couldn’t ask Hunter for help, not after last night. He would still be angry and who could blame him for that?
As much as I loved my brother, he was at fault. I wasn’t mad at him about it; I sympathized with him, but of all the times he could’ve acted on impulse, did it have to be now?
I couldn’t believe that I was the one calling him unreasonable – I’ve messed up so many times that I couldn’t even count that high – but I was so used to him being the calm and rational one that if I had not seen the boys’ reactions last evening, I’d think Hunt was pulling my leg when he told me what had taken place.
This really wasn’t like Nat; he always thought of others first, he always calculated the outcome of his decisions… Yet he’d done something in haste and as a result our friend was hurt.
Maybe I had underestimated Hunter’s influence over him; maybe it was wrong of me to try and get them together; maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation, if I spent more time with Nathaniel and talked to him about what he may be feeling towards our neighbor instead of tease him about it.
Was this partially my fault?
Was I pushing my twin too far?
The Vegas thing had definitely gone too far…
“Ruined; completely ruined!” My mother grumbled, throwing the large spoon she used for stirring in the sink. “Now what will your brother eat? I made this especially for his upset tummy but I can’t serve him this; it reeks of onions.”
I got off the stool and walked out of the kitchen without replying. The beginning of her tirade – I knew my mother; this was just the beginning – was rhetorical to start with. Plus, it wasn’t my twin’s tummy that was upset; it was Nathaniel himself.
I was about to walk into the living room, but took a sharp turn when I saw my father seated in one of the sofas, a newspaper in his hands. I knew he wouldn’t pay me much attention, but he could ask ‘How is your brother?’ and I wasn’t up for another lie. It was only now that I realized how hard it must be for Nat to cover for me, especially considering he was the more honest sibling.
As I dragged myself up the stairs, I once again pondered on what I could do to distract him. I came up with at least twenty fun activities before I reached the second storey landing, but none of them would seem entertaining for him even when he had a good day. What were the odds of getting a decent reply if I googled ‘my brother who thought was heterosexual made up with the gay guy next door and is freaking out; how can I help him’?
I realized I’d stopped in front of his door and reached up to knock. I hesitated, standing with my arm outstretch. Before I could make up my mind, the door opened and Nat startled to see me there, my fisted hand at the level of his chest.
“Hey,” I muttered, pulling back my arm.
“Hey,” he replied quietly.
*****
Nathaniel’s POV
… Hunter Harris is a most selfish, self-centered hustler… Like a lustful demon, he seduces the innocent only for entertainment… incapable of true feelings… chaser of his own pleasure… careless about the sentiments of others…
My eyes kept scanning over what I’d penned down in my diary at the wee hours of the mornings. The little extracts – a creation of my own disturbed mind – brought me shame.
He had kissed me, but I’d kissed him back.
He’d kissed me and I’d enjoyed it.
I had craved it.
And then I’d gotten scared and ran away. That had not been Hunter’s fault; it had been mine.
I was the insecure one, I was the one who was afraid of all those new sensations that had driven me wild and of what others would think if they’d found out about how I felt for him.
I owed him an apology, but I wasn’t sure how to phrase it so that he’d forgive me. Was it even possible to do so?
Did I deserve pardon after leading him on?
I wanted to explain to him what liking a guy meant to me and why was I so scared of that notion, but would he listen?
Had I wasted my chances?
Besides, what was I to tell him: ‘Hunter, you’ve been chasing after me for months, we’d kissed, I like you, but I don’t know if I want to be with you?’
Could I ask him to give me more time to figure things out?
To put them into perspective, to come up with a plan – God, I needed a plan! – and see how it would work out?
And wouldn’t that be misleading him even further?
What was I actually asking him?
For the two of us to sneak around, to arrange secret rendezvous, while I’m still unsure whether I could go through that and would likely one day say ‘I’m not ready, goodbye’?
That was so unfair to him; I couldn’t do it. I should try my hardest to apologize and tell him I needed time to think things through without giving him any false hopes. Yes, that was the right thing to do.
I closed my diary, placing it over my desk, and headed for the door. I opened it and halted, my mouth gaping as I saw my sister with her bottom lip between her teeth. Her arm was outstretched as if she was just about to knock.
“Hey,” she greeted, retrieving her limb.
“Hey,” I returned almost silently.
“You planning to come down for lunch?” She asked in an overly cheery manner. “‘Cause by the smell of it, it could very well be poisonous…”
“Vallery,” I interrupted, “I know you want to help me but there’s something I need to do.” She raised an eyebrow. “I need to talk to Hunter.”
I moved past her before she could compose herself and reply and closed the door to my room behind me. I walked towards the staircase in quick, determined strides that didn’t falter even as I heard her shout for me to wait. A moment later, just atop of the staircase, a hand circled around my wrist, stopping me.
“I’ll go ahead and distract mom in the kitchen; dad’s already busy with the paper.” She gave me a smile which she probably hoped to pass as reassuring, but instead came out as tentative. I nodded and let her run down before me, grateful that she knew me well enough to accurately assume I’d rather avoid our parents for the time being. I waited for about a minute before I came down as well, dashing through the hallway in case our mother chose to look that way.
I closed the front door as quietly as I could and sped through our yard, jumping over the fence. As my feet reached their garden, my resolve diminished.
The first discouraging sign was he crunch that came from beneath my sneakers which – once I pulled my left leg up – I concluded was the result of me landing on a piece of plastic, the same color as that of the Harris’ outdoor furniture; the second indication that something was wrong was the realization that said furniture was smashed into pieces, one of which – a leg of a chair – decorating the hedge just below the tree that grew outside my window.
Cold sweat coated my palms and my mouth took the shape of the letter ‘o’ as I remembered all the racket I’d heard last night; racket that in my misery I’d tried to ignore and did not ponder over its source. But now I had no doubt who the culprit had been or of the motives for his actions.
I gulped to ease the dryness in my throat and took a deep breath. Even though Hunter had been far more upset than I’d anticipated, I was still adamant that I owed him an apology and so I took one slow step after the other, eventually ending in front of his door.
My heart was beating fast when I reached a trembling hand and knocked. When I heard no noise from inside I knocked again, louder, and just for good measure – in case he was upstairs – I rang the bell. The sound of footsteps became more prominent and I inhaled once again, hoping beyond hope that I was at least a bit ready for what would without a doubt be the most difficult conversation up until this point in my life.
End of Hunt Me Down Chapter 43. Continue reading Chapter 44 or return to Hunt Me Down book page.