Chapter 25
Oliver
Since Huxley didn’t text me after his meeting with Williams, and he’s now teaching a double until lunch, I decide to spend my free period investigating.
First, I speak to a few of those teachers—the gossips—then I butter up the school secretary, who is an excellent source of information.
To finish off, I do some internet searching, where everything becomes crystal clear.
I’m about bursting at the seams by the time Huxley slips into my office at lunchtime. He looks as disturbed as I feel. “Are you okay?” I ask. “I have information.”
“I’m not great. And this information sounds ominous.” Huxley gives me a quick kiss, then sits down.
“It isn’t great. But it definitely helps us understand what’s going on.”
“Okay, hit me with it.”
The fear on Huxley’s face has me reaching for his hand.
“Alright, I’ve been doing some research.
Jake’s family, specifically his father, Harold Hastings, is wealthy.
Like old money wealthy. And he is, according to Beryl, the school secretary, a significant financial donor to this school.
This sports and science building we’re standing in right now wouldn’t have been built without his financial contribution.
I didn’t know because it was finished before I started here.
And you know what else Beryl said? God bless the old gossip.
That Jake’s dad and Williams are lifelong friends who even went to uni together. ”
Huxley frowns, but I continue, because this is about to all make sense.
“I searched for Jake’s dad online and found his Facebook page.
Big church goer. I don’t think you should look at his posts.
Seems like one of his pet hates is the LGBT+ community.
According to Harold Hastings, you and I are under the influence of Satan and going straight to hell. ”
All hope drains from Huxley’s face. “So what you’re really saying is that I’m fucked. If I want to teach here, I have to put up with this?”
“You mean, if we teach here, we have to put up with it.”
“Oliver, you’re not even out yet. And maybe you shouldn’t come out. It would be stupid to. You love your job so why mess that up?”
This doesn’t seem like the right time to discuss my coming out timeline, so I veer the conversation in another direction. “Don’t worry about that now. Tell me what happened at the meeting.”
“Exactly what you said would happen. He said he didn’t make himself clear enough at the first meeting, but I’m not to display or wear anything that tells students about my personal life.
I asked him about who made the initial complaint, Bob or Jake.
He told me it was Bob and another teacher, plus Jake, and, what is not going to be a surprise to you, Jake’s father. ”
I feel as defeated as Huxley looks. “I’m sorry this is happening, Hux. I think we should take a few days to think about it.”
Huxley closes his eyes briefly before looking back at me. “What is there to think about? I either stay here and put up with it, or I start looking for another job. It’s that simple.”
“Come here,” I say, pulling him out of his chair.
“What if someone comes in?”
“I don’t care. You need a hug.”
Huxley sits on my lap, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I rub soothing circles on his back, fearing he is absolutely right. “We’ll figure this out together,” I murmur.
There are only a handful of patrons in the cinema. Okay, so I may have chosen a movie that’s been out for ages so there wouldn’t be many people here.
I’m not embarrassed about being on a date with a man, but I’m not into full-on PDAs and I don’t want to get caught making out with my… I want to say boyfriend.
After finishing the popcorn in the first fifteen minutes, we hold hands for a while, until I lose track of the plot and press a kiss to Huxley’s cheek.
“Took you long enough,” he whispers, a glint in his eyes.
“I was trying to let you watch the movie.” I add another kiss, this time under Huxley's earlobe, just where he likes it. A giggle confirms. We make out for a while, trying to stay quiet. If I was more adventurous maybe I’d blow Huxley or at least give him a hand job.
The idea turns me on, but I don’t have the guts to do it. But maybe…
Placing my hand over Huxley’s dick, I give it a squeeze, then rub over his jeans. It only takes a few minutes for him to get hard. Between kisses, I glance at the other moviegoers, whose eyes are still firmly on the screen.
“Oh God, Oli. Stop.” Huxley places his hand on top of mine to halt the movement.
His eyes are squeezed tightly shut, his face pinched as if he's in pain.
“Were you going to come?” I whisper, trying to suppress my laughter.
“Shut up. I need to think of vaginas or something.”
I burst into laughter. The other people turn around and glare in our direction. Huxley also stares at me with murderous intent, while I wave my apologies to the annoyed patrons.
Later, while exiting the complex, Huxley’s phone rings. He pulls it from his pocket and stops. “Fuck.”
Glancing down at the screen, I see Bradley’s name. Huxley rejects the call and we continue walking.
I shove my hands in my pockets, agitated. “Why don’t you just block his number?”
“I could, but then I won’t know what stupid messages he’s sending or what he’s getting up to.”
Placing my hand on Huxley’s forearm, I bring us to a stop. “That’s the entire purpose of blocking someone. He’s harassing you. Unless you actually want him to keep contacting you?” The moment it’s out of my mouth, I regret it.
Huxley glowers at me. “Of course I don’t want him contacting me. The last text I sent I told him to fuck off.”
“Well, he doesn’t seem to be getting the message. If you block him, you won’t have to think about it anymore.”
“And what if he turns up in person? That’s worse.”
I puff out my chest, pulling up to my full six foot three. Possessiveness is pumping through my veins and I’m not sure I have any right to behave this way. “If he turns up and harasses you in person, then I’ll beat his fucking ass.”
Huxley gulps, his look of anger morphing into something else. I keep my eyes locked on him, a mix of ire and arousal sparking low in my gut. Huxley opens his contacts and blocks Bradley’s number, making sure I see what he’s doing.
The action deflates my frustration, while further igniting my desire.
I thread our fingers together and lead us briskly down the road towards my car, eager to get home and behind closed doors, where I can physically show Huxley how much I want him to be mine. And only mine. The steamy look in his eyes tells me he’s having the same thoughts.
“Oliver?”
The voice stops me dead in my tracks, Huxley pulling up beside me. I turn to face my brother, standing only a few metres away, grocery bags in hand.
His face is ugly, the corners of his mouth turned down. “What the fuck, Oliver?”
Huxley tries to pull his hand from mine, but I only hold on tighter. This is not how I wanted this to go. “Reece.”
My brother takes a few steps closer. “What the fuck is this, Oliver? Are you a fag?” The word lingers in the air, full of hatred and disgust.
“Don’t you dare fucking use that word,” I warn. My heart races, anger and fire shooting through me at the speed of a bullet.
Huxley yanks his hand out of mine and takes off in the direction I parked the car. I’m not sure if that’s where he’s going or if he’ll order an Uber instead. I’m torn between chasing after Huxley and dealing with my brother.
Reece steps right up into my space, eyeballing me. “Who the fuck was that? Are you gay now?”
“I’m warning you Reece, you are not to say one fucking disrespectful word about him. His name is Huxley. We’re dating.”
Reece bursts into a high-pitched, exaggerated laugh. “You couldn’t get any pussy, so you got a boy to bend over for you? Jesus, Oliver. You’re dating? It’s fucking gross.”
Reece’s mouth drops open, his eyes widening comically as the penny drops. “Oh, now it all makes sense. That’s the new teacher you were talking about. The gay one who you were raving about. Does he get down on his knees and suck your cock?”
Before I can stop myself, I slam my fist into my brother’s face.
I’ve never been in a real fight, and the pain of striking someone, knuckles hitting bone, takes me by surprise.
Reece stumbles backwards, holding his nose, blood trickling down his mouth and chin.
The groceries have spilled over the footpath, and a few people have stopped to gawk.
All I can think of is how disappointed our mum will be.
Guilt washes over me, dousing my wrath. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have hit you. But I won’t put up with you speaking about him that way.”
Reece wipes the blood off with his sleeve. It doesn’t look like his nose is broken. I pick up some of the grocery items and return them to the bag.
Reece spits—fucking spits at my feet—then says with a snarl, “And I won’t put up with having a fag for a brother.”
I’m so fucking disappointed. Heartbroken, really. “I’m bi, but I guess that doesn’t matter.” I shove the grocery bag into his chest. “Don’t make me choose between you and Huxley, because, if you do, you won’t have a brother anymore.”
Striding away, I pray Huxley is waiting for me at the car, but he’s not.
My heart sinks.
When I call, he doesn’t pick up.
My knuckles are bleeding, but I drive straight to Huxley’s house. By the time I knock on his door, I’m on the verge of tears.
The door flings open immediately, as if Huxley was already on the other side.
“I’m sorry, Oliver,” he says, eyes swimming with regret. “I shouldn’t have left. Can you forgive me? I just…when I realised it was your brother I panicked, and the last thing I want to do is come between you and your family. Oliver, I’m so sorry.”
I wrap my arms tightly around Huxley’s waist, needing the contact as much as he does. “Shh, it’s okay. I understand,” I whisper, rocking him gently.
“Do you want to come in? Have a drink?”