Unwelcome Read Online Free
Author: Michael Griffo
his lips parted to reveal his tongue lazily brushing against his sparkling white teeth. âIâd love to see you in nothing but your swimsuit.â
âOkay.â Nakano heard himself say that one word and even though he knew it was a stupid, completely unromantic response, he couldnât think of anything else to add, so he kept quiet and hoped that the image of him wearing just his Speedo would occupy Jean-Paulâs thoughts and not Nakanoâs inability to flirt.
They both got out of the car and walked toward the driverâs side in silence, the only sound the soft crunch of snow under their feet. By the time Nakano got around the car, Jean-Paul was wearing his chauffeur cap, his straight, dark brown hair tucked neatly behind his ears, looking very important, like a man with a career. Nakano looked up until his eyes met Jean-Paulâs and reminded himself not to slouch, to stand as straight as possible. Taller might make him look older, he thought, and even though Jean-Paul never commented on his age, never said anything except that a five-year age difference wasnât a big deal, Nakano couldnât help but feel like an imposter in his presence. As if he were the one part of this couple who didnât belong. But he was, he was part of a couple, he was Jean-Paulâs boyfriend, and the way Jean-Paul kissed him good-bye was proof of that.
A frigid wind blew across Nakanoâs body, making his white shirt ripple, his tie fly past his shoulder, but he didnât feel the cold; he could feel only the heat that lingered from Jean-Paulâs lips. Filled with energy, both nervous and unbridled, Nakano rubbed the back of his head briskly, hardly noticing the feel of the strong bone underneath, the coarse bristles of his crew cut flicking through his fingers, and watched Jean-Paul in the driverâs seat, looking relaxed and professional.
âSee you later,â Nakano said, not even aware that his hand was still massaging his scalp.
âYes, you will,â Jean-Paul replied. He started to turn the car around and then suddenly stopped. âHave you ever thought about letting your hair grow out? I bet it would look très chic.â
As Nakano watched his boyfriend drive away underneath the iron Archangel Academy front gate, he realized he had yet one more thing to think about.
Â
The only thing Michael was thinking about was how happy he was that the first day of classes of the new semester was officially over. Now the fun could really begin, starting with swim team practice. The excitement of being part of a team still hadnât lost its novelty and for good reason. For the first part of his life, Michael was a loner, spending his time either by himself in his bedroom reading, thinking, dreaming, or at school acting as if it was his preference to stay on the outside looking in, to pretend that he didnât want to belong to any of the schoolâs cliques. It was a lie. It was not at all what he wanted, but he felt that it was better to let everyone think he was independent and chose to be alone, instead of the truth, that his solitude was forced upon him. There were a few times in grammar school and at Two W, his old high school, when he tried to break through the wall that the other students had built around him, tried to make contact with someone, just one other person who might want to be his friend. But for whatever reason, he was never successful. He never found anyone who wanted to call him their friend, until he came here.
Here he was a starter on the swim team; he had attempted something and he had succeeded. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before and he was sure that Mr. Alfano, his old gym teacher, would be proud. He knew exactly what he would say to himââBetter late than never, Howardââin a voice filled with more respect than surprise. Then Michael wondered what Mauro would have to say. How surprised would he be that Michael was
âOkay.â Nakano heard himself say that one word and even though he knew it was a stupid, completely unromantic response, he couldnât think of anything else to add, so he kept quiet and hoped that the image of him wearing just his Speedo would occupy Jean-Paulâs thoughts and not Nakanoâs inability to flirt.
They both got out of the car and walked toward the driverâs side in silence, the only sound the soft crunch of snow under their feet. By the time Nakano got around the car, Jean-Paul was wearing his chauffeur cap, his straight, dark brown hair tucked neatly behind his ears, looking very important, like a man with a career. Nakano looked up until his eyes met Jean-Paulâs and reminded himself not to slouch, to stand as straight as possible. Taller might make him look older, he thought, and even though Jean-Paul never commented on his age, never said anything except that a five-year age difference wasnât a big deal, Nakano couldnât help but feel like an imposter in his presence. As if he were the one part of this couple who didnât belong. But he was, he was part of a couple, he was Jean-Paulâs boyfriend, and the way Jean-Paul kissed him good-bye was proof of that.
A frigid wind blew across Nakanoâs body, making his white shirt ripple, his tie fly past his shoulder, but he didnât feel the cold; he could feel only the heat that lingered from Jean-Paulâs lips. Filled with energy, both nervous and unbridled, Nakano rubbed the back of his head briskly, hardly noticing the feel of the strong bone underneath, the coarse bristles of his crew cut flicking through his fingers, and watched Jean-Paul in the driverâs seat, looking relaxed and professional.
âSee you later,â Nakano said, not even aware that his hand was still massaging his scalp.
âYes, you will,â Jean-Paul replied. He started to turn the car around and then suddenly stopped. âHave you ever thought about letting your hair grow out? I bet it would look très chic.â
As Nakano watched his boyfriend drive away underneath the iron Archangel Academy front gate, he realized he had yet one more thing to think about.
Â
The only thing Michael was thinking about was how happy he was that the first day of classes of the new semester was officially over. Now the fun could really begin, starting with swim team practice. The excitement of being part of a team still hadnât lost its novelty and for good reason. For the first part of his life, Michael was a loner, spending his time either by himself in his bedroom reading, thinking, dreaming, or at school acting as if it was his preference to stay on the outside looking in, to pretend that he didnât want to belong to any of the schoolâs cliques. It was a lie. It was not at all what he wanted, but he felt that it was better to let everyone think he was independent and chose to be alone, instead of the truth, that his solitude was forced upon him. There were a few times in grammar school and at Two W, his old high school, when he tried to break through the wall that the other students had built around him, tried to make contact with someone, just one other person who might want to be his friend. But for whatever reason, he was never successful. He never found anyone who wanted to call him their friend, until he came here.
Here he was a starter on the swim team; he had attempted something and he had succeeded. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before and he was sure that Mr. Alfano, his old gym teacher, would be proud. He knew exactly what he would say to himââBetter late than never, Howardââin a voice filled with more respect than surprise. Then Michael wondered what Mauro would have to say. How surprised would he be that Michael was
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