Page 8 of Hunter's Hidden Camera
But I also think what else has been taking me so long is that I feel super guilty—less about invading Nash’s privacy and more about invading Alessandra’s privacy. She’s a sweet girl, andshe’s always been kind to me. The fact that I’ve recorded her specifically makes me feel like a shitty person.
I look at Alessandra on my laptop screen now. She’s facing the camera. My brother is having sex with her from behind, doggy-style.
I’m suddenly hit with one of my anxiety attacks. Feelings of guilt, of being bad, of being evil, of hurting other people, seize my chest.
I click out of the video. I move the file to the trash bin.
I click on the folder where I keep all of Nash’s videos. I hit the delete button.
I should take down all of Nash’s shower videos too. I’ll find some other way to make money.
I navigate to the porn site that hosts Nash’s videos so that I can start deleting. On the home page, there are a bunch of new videos I’ve never seen before, and all of a sudden I pop a boner and get super horny. I don’t think a lot of girls understand how sometimes guys have no control over their dicks.
This restroom may not be the perfect place to rub one out, but I’m alone and there’s time. So:
I double check that my headphones are plugged in. I click on a video that has an enticing thumbnail. Two hot dudes are blowing each other.
I unbutton and unzip my jeans and pull them down a little. I start stroking myself, my eyes fascinated by how the dudes’ heads bob up and down, rhythmically and almost synchronized. Then, they start having anal sex. Really loud anal sex.Gasping, grunting, moaning, screaming. It’s almost comical, but it’s also really hot.
BOOM! Suddenly, the restroom door bursts open. I’m so startled that I jerk my head back. When I do so, the cord to my headphones disconnects from my laptop. The speakers on my laptop blast out, with remarkable clarity, the sounds coming from the video, the primal noise of gay sex, the bold commands of an aggressive male voice exclaiming, “Fuck me, yeah, fuck me harder!” The voice bounces back and forth between these restroom walls, echoes loud enough to wake the dead.
I quickly try to pause the video, stop the video, click out of the video, but it’s just more “fuck me, yeah, fuck me harder!” I repeatedly press the “volume down” button, but when the sex sounds only get louder I realize I’m mistakenly pressing the “volume up” button. I manage to hit “mute,” and all is quiet. I don’t move.
I don’t hear anything out in the bathroom. Is the person who came in still here? He could’ve gone out, but I wouldn’t have necessarily heard him leave because the video was so loud and I was so panicked.
I decide to wait quietly. One minute, two minutes. It’s still silent. I guess it’s all clear.
Abort mission. I slip my laptop into my backpack. I pull up my pants. I open the stall door.
When I reach the sink, I notice, in the reflection in the mirror, my best friend Oscar standing by the door. It seems that whenhe walked in and heard what he heard he froze. He’s now looking at me, confused.
“Hunter?” is all he says.
Even if Icouldrespond right now, I have no idea what the hell I would say.
6
Acting
I’ve been told by my friends and teachers that I’m a good actor. For Drama class last year, we performedOur Town, a play by Thornton Wilder, and I was cast as Si Crowell, a high school kid who takes over his older brother’s job of delivering newspapers. It was a small part, but I apparently impressed people. I don’t know how. I just memorized the words and spoke them. (However, when Nash went to school here, healsowas in a production ofOur Town, and he got showered with compliments for playing the Stage Manager, which is pretty much the lead role and he was in practically every scene. Me: always in my damn brother’s shadow.)
Anyway, I guess I’m going to put my acting talent to the test right now, right in front of Oscar Bustamante, in this small and oppressive restroom.
I start laughing, trying my best to make it sound not fake.
“Oh, my God,” I say, with a big smile on my face. “My brother sent me the funniest video!”
I start laughing again, pretending that I can’t stop, pretending that I’m even having trouble breathing.
“Yeah?” says Oscar, suspiciously.
“Yeah, yeah, this shit is hilarious!” I’m super enthusiastic. “Look, look!”
Still laughing, I pull my phone out of my pocket and open up YouTube.
I guess laughter is infectious because Oscar starts laughing too. (Or is it for some other reason?)
I say, “You have to see this, man! You’re gonna crack up! This is so funny!”
