Page 11 of Hunter's Hidden Camera
Oscar tries to look at the screen of my phone. “That’s a lot of juice for a phone that’s dead.”
I try to laugh it off and shove the phone back in my pocket. “I know! Verizon, am I right?!”
Fortunately, Victor unwittingly comes to my rescue when he says, “Yup! Verizon sucks!”
We all nod, including Oscar, and once againwe’re walking.
What the hell does my brother want? What can be so urgent? He sounds pissed. Did he find his stained underwear that I hid underneath my mattress? Or worse, did he find my spy cam in his room? Or even worse, did he find his shower videos online?
I feel one of my anxiety attacks coming on. Like I said, they usually happen at random?. Like, they’re not tied to anything. But this attack here, the reasons for it are obvious: Oscar’s suspicions, my brother freaking out. I might just lie down and die right here.
As we all head toward the quad, I notice Oscar watching me from the corner of his eye, a blank expression on his face, the look of someone who doesn’t knowwhatto think of his best friend.
I spot Emma sitting on the grass with a bunch of her friends. When she sees me, she winks and bites her lower lip, a supposedly seductive gesture that’s meant to turn me on and get me excited about what’s going down tonight.
In my mind, I picture an imaginary coin. Heads: this is going to be the worst day of my life. Tails: everything will be fine. I imagine flipping the coin in the air and catching it.
Heads.
Fuck my life.
7
Stain
It’s Friday night, and Emma will be over to my house any moment now. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves because my parents are still in Vegas until Sunday and Nash is nowhere to be found. He probably (hopefully) is out with Alessandra, and won’t be home until late.
I never did find out what he wanted when he called and texted me earlier today, because my phone ironicallydiddie. Like, it didn’t run out of battery power. It just died. I’ll have to take it to the store tomorrow.
What Idoknow is that his stained underwear is still safely underneath my mattress. The spy cam is still in his room. The shower videos are still up. All seems normal. I’ll deal with everything—washing the underwear, removing the camera, taking down the videos—later. But right now I have to deal with Emma.
I take off my clothes and hurry to the bathroom so that I can have a quick shower. But I notice that the shower curtain, theyellow one that’s been Nash’s and my shower curtain for years, is gone. Like, there’s nothing in its place. Like, if I take a shower, water will splash everywhere.
What the hell? What did Nash do to it? Does this have something to do with his phone calls and texts to me earlier?
I don’t have time to think about it. I jump in, angle the shower head inward, and turn the water pressure on low. Some water gets on the bathroom floor anyway. But it’s not so bad. It’ll dry.
After a few minutes, I’m done. With a towel wrapped around my waist, I hurry into my brother’s room and grab one of the bottles of cologne on his nightstand. I don’t bother to smell it. All I know is that Emma likes the scent of men’s colognes, pretty much any kind.
After I spray my neck, I take a step back, and my right foot kind of squishes on the carpet. I notice the light brown fabric around where I am is damp. I move away from this damp area and hunch down to look. It’s like water was spilled here or something, and it’s in the process of drying.
But when I look closer, I see little white bubbles, like Nash was cleaning a stain here with soap or dishwashing liquid or something.
Oh, my God, I hope I didn’t accidentally cum on the floor and like he found it or something. That would be embarrassing and awful and just sowrong.
The doorbell rings.
I run downstairs and open the front door. When Emma sees me in nothing but the towel, she smiles.
“Wow, you’re ready to go,” she giggles.
I blush. “No. I was just taking a shower and ran down here. I’ll put on some clothes.”
She runs her fingers over my chest. “Why put on clothes? You’re just gonna be taking them off soon anyway.”
I force a smile.
She starts rubbing my abs. “Damn, Hunter.”
