Page 58 of Ancient History

Magenta = sexual.

Was that true? I wish it was. I wish the feelings that I’d sworn off from Hutch didn’t come charging back. Hutch had wandered in a sexual desert for years and wanted to get his rocks off. I refused to make things awkward with feelings.

“And actually, I wasn’t winded from running from my car. I was winded because we also exchanged business cards during seventh period.”

Their mouths dropped. I smiled triumphantly. Although our code language clearly had zero consistency.

“Birthday cards and business cards? You fugly slut,” Everett whispered to me.

“We’re just having fun. The last time I tried to make things serious, he bolted.” I didn’t want to open myself up to being hurt again. So I looked at this for what it was: sexy times with an old boyfriend.

“Maybe it’s for the best. Trying to date a guy in the closet is a struggle you don’t want.”

“Very true,” I said.

Aguilar got on the mic and thankfully kept his speech short, ceding the time to the cheerleaders, who introduced both soccer teams. I let myself get into the pep rally, losing myself in school spirit.

The men’s soccer team ran out through a crafty tunnel that I was sure pissed Everett off for being so extravagant. I scowled when Tommy darted out and hi-fived his teammates. I knew he had to be some kind of jock.

“And last but not least, let’s hear it for the coach who helped them bring in their victory. Coach Hawkins!” Aguilar yelled his name into the mic as the school went wild and Hutch trotted out with a self-conscious grin and wave, thankful but also uncomfortable with the attention. He shot me a stealth wink. It was all one major deja vu that hit me square in the gut.

I’d been here before. Sitting in the bleachers, pining for Hutch during pep rallies, receiving the subtle wink. This story was getting eerily familiar, but would it be ending the same way?

17

HUTCH

Pop just laughed and laughed as he watched me from the hallway. His deep chortle, which I’d always found a comforting presence, was really pissing me off this morning.

I peeled my eyes away from the mirror, where I was getting my hair into place. “I’ll be done in a second.”

“Sure you will.” He was having such a good time, like he was watching a movie or something.

“Do you gotta use the can? Is yours clogged?”

“Nope.”

“Then why are you staring at me like that? It’s creepy.” Maybe there was something really wrong with my hair. I checked it again. “Go back to bed. You don’t have anywhere you need to be this morning. I have to get to work.”

“You’re gonna be late with all the time you’re spending prettying yourself in front of that mirror.”

“I’m not prettying myself. That’s not even a word. I’m getting ready for work. I have to look presentable and shit.”

That elicited another chuckle of deep laughter from him. While I should’ve been happy that Pop was in such good spirits, I didn’t want it to be at my expense. He was just jealous because he was bald.

I dropped my comb into the sink. “What is so funny, Old Man?”

“Just thinking back to all the arguing we used to do about getting your ass to school on time,” he said. I didn’t have time for one of those reminiscing moments, though there were mornings where we got into shouting fights about using the bathroom. Good thing we could laugh about them now.

He was the only one laughing currently.

“I’ll be done in a second. I’m shutting the door now.”

But even from behind the door, I could feel him smiling with glee.

“What’s so funny?”

“It seems to me you want to get yourself all pretty to impress a guy.”

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