In Safe Hands - 12. Chapter 12

In Safe Hands
by Riley Jericho

Chapter Twelve

After his lunch, Elliott hurried upstairs to find Miguel already dragging a mattress down the hallway from the spare room to his own bedroom. He jumped into action and took the other end to help. Following Miguel into his room as they heaved the mattress through the door, he was surprised to already find a bed base in there and said so.

“Papa helped me move it,” Miguel grunted as they shoveled the unwieldy mattress on top of the base. “I thought it would be better than you going down on the floor.” The two beds had been bought as a pair as an end of line sale. One had been for Miguel’s room and the other had gone in the third bedroom as a spare in case they had visitors. In fact, Elliott was about to be the first person ever to sleep on it!

The pair stood in the walkway space that Miguel had arranged between the two beds and Elliott noted the obvious. “How are you going to get to your drawers?”

The beds were no larger than the ones in his own room, one floor below, but his and Sam’s rooms was sparse compared to Miguel’s. With the extra bed maneuvered right alongside the large chest, there was no way the drawers were going to open!

“Oh – well – I thought we could always push your bed over when I need them,” said Miguel. It was a little lamely. “I tried to move it earlier…but…” He shrugged.

Elliott studied the huge old chest of drawers. Miguel probably couldn’t be bothered with emptying each drawer and taking it out of the frame. The chest looked a weight; on top of that, where could he really move it to within the room? Every obvious space was taken and the beds had to go like this – unless… With furrowed brow, he took in the simple puzzle. “Why don’t we just push them together? The you can get to the drawers and the window too,” he proposed.

‘We could, I guess,” returned Miguel carefully. “If it’s okay with you.”

Elliott shrugged. “I don’t care, as long as you don’t start farting on my side!” he sniggered and backed up his answer by levering the whole bed across several feet to lie alongside Miguel’s. Standing against the far side, he gave it another shove and the two mattresses mated as a perfect pair.

“There,” he said, satisfied. “We just need some sheets and stuff for my side now - and a pillow too. Shall we go down to our place and get my bedding and anything else I need?” He looked expectantly to Miguel, who didn’t reply and seemed miles away.

* * *

“Hey Dude! Anyone in?”

“Oh – right – sorry,” replied Miguel. He shook his head to clear the fog and grinned. He HAD been miles away, distracted by stray thoughts of Alejandro and the incident that morning at the nets; but it DID now seem that whatever Elliott really thought of that, or of Alejandro, it wasn’t turning into what he’d feared. And now, back in the familiarity of his own room, with a friend with whom he fitted as well as these two beds, he realised that he was being an idiot. Elliott wasn’t about to turn into some monster or nasty mean gay-basher, he was just Elliott and fun to be with.

“You don’t need to bother about your bedding. Elli. Mama said to just use ours.” He left the room and, a few moments later, returned carrying the pillow and summer duvet that had been in the spare room. With them he had a set of sheets.

“We’re just going downstairs to get Elliott’s stuff,” called Miguel from the hallway some time later after - and with much larking around – they’d finally got the sheets in place.

“Okay,” replied his mum still from the lounge. Moments later, she came out to the hallway. “This is nice,” she added holding up the gift the boys had bought. “Is this what you bought for Estela – and did you get a card and some wrapping paper?”

The boys paused at the door. “You don’t have any paper here?” whispered Elliott. Miguel shook his head.

“We forgot paper Mama,” he admitted. “Don’t we have any here?”

His mother examined the earrings and necklace. “No, we don’t have any paper Miguel – and you can’t give her such a lovely gift in this,” she added looking at the grubby paper bag the market trader had generously supplied for the box set. “And what about a card?” she persisted.

‘We didn’t think it was worth getting a card,” said Miguel. He glanced at Elliott who looked like he felt it was best not to get involved.

“So, once it’s wrapped, how is Estela going to know the gift is from you,” replied Isabella patiently.

‘We were just going to give it to her – weren’t we Elli.” Elliott nodded helpfully.

“If there’s a lot going, then I think you’ll find you’re expected to put the presents on a table and leave them there for her to open in her own time, Miguel...” Miguel said nothing and the penny dropped. “What are you like?” she added, shaking her head in despair. She went to get her purse and extracted another note. “Now go and get some wrapping paper AND a card!”

‘I can’t. We were just going to go and get Elli’s stuff, and then we were going to go to the pool.”

Elliott could see Miguel’s mom beginning to fume, and he hated it when people got naggy. “You’re mom’s right,” he placated. “I can still go and get my stuff, but maybe you should run back down into town and grab a card and some paper. We can still go swimming after that.”

With nowhere else to go, Miguel nodded and took the money from his mother. “I won’t be long,” he muttered. “Only bring what you need, Elli – and you know you can always borrow anything of mine if you want.” As the two boys clattered down the stairs. Miguel kept going down, leaving Elliott on the first floor.

On entering their apartment, Elliott encountered his mom at the door.

"Ah - there you are,” she said. “You and Miguel wouldn't mind just taking Sam and Natty out to the pool would you? I just want to finish off the ironing and your Dad's gone walkabout."

"Miguel's gone back down to town for something. I can take them though. I wouldn't mind going in too. It's really hot today!"

"It is close, isn't it," his mom agreed. "It'll break soon though by the look of those clouds. Let's hope it holds off or your party though!"

As he changed, Elliott peered out of the window and could see what she meant. Taking a towel and his siblings, they took the lift and went to enjoy the sun whilst they still had it. The English family were already there and after swimming back and too a little, he felt at a loose end as both Sam AND Natty seemed ready to play with their two boys.

He sat on the edge and dangled his feet in the water and, before long, his thoughts came back to Alejandro. Now he came to examine the claim again, he almost didn't believe Miguel's explanation that Ale was gay - though he’d said it was Estela that told him.

He said. But why would anyone lie about something like that?

For sure, Miguel could make up stuff; like when he'd leafed through a local brochure, similiar to the one they'd picked up at the Mall, pointed to the advert for a nudist beach, and asked if Elliott's parents would mind if he joined the Oriz family for a day there. 'We go every year as a family, just to get an all-over tan,' he'd said looking completely serious. 'Do you think they'll let you come?' Elliott had fallen for it hook, line and sinker!

The thing about Alejandro, though, felt different. Anyway, who would make up something like that? He stirred the water thoughtfully with his legs.

"Hola!"

The familiar voice and greeting unnerved Elliott as he looked up quickly. He could see Alejandro, grinning and looking larger than life, opening the gate and letting himself in. With a friendly wave in the direction of the Brits, the Spanish teen sat down at the pool next to Elliott, slipping off his sandles and dipping his feet in the water.

* * *

"The weather looks bad," said Alejandro, nodding into the distance though all of his senses were focused on the body next to him, quite giddy that he'd found Elliott alone for a change.

"Do you think it'll rain?" asked Elliott.

"I hope not - but probably."

"Alejandro - come in!" begged Sam, spotting the lean teen at last. He drove across the pool, grabbed one of Alejandro's legs, planted his feet against the side and heaved. It was so unexpected that Alejandro nearly lost his balance and Elliott reached out to stop him toppling over.

"Pack it in Sam!" Elliott muttered, though Alejandro didn’t seem to mind being manhandled.

The two English boys, sporting enough buoyancy aids to float the Titanic, scrambled through the water to join them, copying Sam and grabbing at both Alejandro and Elliott with such excitement that the two older teens gave up and joined them in the water.

“Lucky you had your shorts on,” Elliott laughed. “But now your shirt’s wet!”

Belatedly, Alejandro pulled it over his head and threw it onto the side grinning. “It’ll dry.” He glanced up to the second floor balcony. “Is Miguel not around?”

“He went down to town to get a card for Estela.”

“Oh – I see. You didn’t want to go too?” he checked, careful to make it sound as normal as he could.

“We got a present for Estella, but he forgot a card.” Elliott shrugged. “He’ll probably be back soon.”

Alejandro was surprised, though he didn’t show it. Perhaps Elliott spent less time with Miguel than he’d assumed! That was good wasn’t it?

Just then, the three younger boys decided to approach Alejandro as though he were some kind of mountain to climb. Squealing kids assailed him from all sides. He didn’t mind kids—even if he had no idea what they were saying— and had several younger brothers himself. He noticed Elliott smiling as he entertained them with ease. It make his stomach flutter!

“Do you live here too?” one of the English boys asked, hanging from his arm when a moment of calm had arrived. Alejandro grinned amiably at him without understanding one word and Sam came to his rescue.

“He wants to know if you live here. I told him no. Where do you live by the way?”

“Just over there,” Alejandro replied, pointing in the direction beyond the boys parents. “Not far. You could come over sometime if you want Elliott,” he added hopefully. “Hang out for a bit maybe?”

“Can we come too?” the younger boys clamored, though Elliott didn’t answer before Alejandro moved on.

“Actually,” Alejandro continued, “it was why I just popped over. I wondered if I could get a lift with you to Estela’s tonight…to the party. Would that be okay?”

“Oh…I’m not sure what time we’re going,” Elliott said. “But I don’t see why not. Miguel’s dad is taking us I think…just a mo – let’s ask his mom.” They could both see Isabella Ortiz arriving with a towel and her book, a biography following the career of the Swedish pop group, ABBA.

“Hello Alejandro,” she waved cheerily as she settled down into her lounger.

“Hola!” he grinned. “I was just asking Elliott if I can get a lift from here to Estela’s tonight.”

“Of course you can, dear. Manny is taking them and picking up again, so he could bring you back to your home too, if you want. Anytime here around eight or so would be fine.”

“Thank you! That would be great!”

“I thought it started at eight?” put in Elliott as the pair batted a beach ball back and forth along with the younger kids. Even though he’d lived around latin cultures for years, he could never get his head around the lazy approach to time. It drove his dad completely mental!

Alejandro shrugged. “Maybe it does, but nobody’s going to arrive ‘til at least eight-thirty, probably nine, so why rush?” With that, he eased his lanky frame out onto the side and reached for his wet shirt.

Elliott watched him twist and turn the garment, squeezing out the drips onto the floor. As a friend, he liked Alejandro – yet what did he really think about...even in his head he didn’t know how to say it. Did it matter, he’d asked Miguel. He had so many questions, but it was difficult to get answers. Nor could he ask Alejandro how he knew he was like that. How did ANYONE know??

“OK – I’d better go,” said Alejandro. “See you tonight – and maybe tomorrow you can come down to my place for a bit…if you want to…” Without waiting for an answer, he left.

* * *

Down towards the middle of town, Miguel hurried along the pavements emptied by the hot, sultry, breezeless heat. Through the outdoor market, he went into the first shop he could find that looked like it had cards in it.

A card. Any card would do. At least that’s what he told himself, though once he started leafing through them he spent longer than he’d planned looking for something that wasn’t a silly joke or, on the other hand, too serious. Finally, spotting something that would do, he added a sheet of sweet-looking wrapping paper that had the right red in it, and hurried out of the shop and back up the hill.

Passing through the market again, he paused at the stall of the trader who was selling the beautiful leather wrist bracelets that he and Elli had both liked. Like everyone else, the man was in the middle of putting everything away, but Miguel still stopped to browse. On impulse, he took hold of the container and riffled through it to see if they were still there.

At first it looked like he was going to be disappointed. He could see one of them but…ah – there it was! Risking it, he left one in there and lifted out the other, looking thoughtful. Holding it in his hand he waited until the trader, who was clearly wanting the box to pack away, spoke up.

“Four euros.”

Miguel considered that offer. “I need to get two. Do a deal and I’ll buy two for six.” The change from the card and paper would just cover it. He’d pay Mama back later.

The trader didn’t really care and, right then, apparently didn’t want to spend hours haggling. “Sure,” he grunted and held out his hand for the money, anxious to be away. As Miguel trotted up the hill with both bands in his pocket, he asked himself ‘what the hell are you doing?’

Did he really think he was going to suggest to Elliott that they wear his and his wrist bracelets like romantic lovers? The closer he got to home, the more unlikely he thought it would be that he would give one of them to Elliott, and his mood was not helped when, outside of the apartments, he met Alejandro coming around from the other side of the building.

“What do you want?” he snapped a little too brutally.

Alejandro’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his peace. Whilst he didn’t know what the hell was wrong with Miguel – he’d never been like this with him before – he didn’t want to risk the guy mouthing off about him to Elliott and spoiling what was actually becoming a good friendship.

“I just dropped in to see if I could get a lift to Estela’s tonight. Your mum said to be here for eight.”

Miguel looked suspiciously at the half naked teenager – carrying a soaking wet shirt in his hand – and grunted. “Oh. Right. Sorry – I just… Errr…see you later then.” Assuming, rightly, that wherever Alejandro had come from, Elliott was likely to be there, he hurried around the back of the building to the pool area.

“You’re back!” shouted Elliott, so enthusiastically that Miguel felt completely crap for being so down on Alejandro. He had to stop doing this! The guy was just asking for a lift, for God's sake!

“I hear we’re giving Ale a lift,” he said to make up. “I just saw him leaving.” He looked up into the sky and saw there was little time left. “I’m just gonna get changed; don’t go anywhere.”

* * *

The two teens and four younger ones stayed outside until well after the sun had been covered up by heavy clouds. It wasn’t cold but remained sticky and humid. Even so, Natty didn’t hang around long after Isabella Ortiz packed up and Elliott had to walk her upstairs back to their apartment. Finally, he, Sam and Miguel came inside and he moved up to his new home.

Slipping out of his white speedos, he took a shower straight after Miguel - even though he hadn’t yet brought up any of his own clothes from downstairs. He’d do that later and, in the meantime, just borrow Miguel’s. As the water washed away the chlorine, it washed away some confusion too.

Something was clear to him now.

What seemed clear to Elliott - and it was quite a relief to discover it - was that he himself wasn't gay! Why he’d thought that was a bit complicated and he had begun to wonder. He realised now that he couldn't be because, sitting next to Ale by the pool that afternoon, he hadn't felt a thing; no fuzzy feeling or excitement; nothing. That was the test wasn't it? If Ale was gay—and there was no reason to disbelieve Miguel on this one—then, if he had been too, then he should have felt something; maybe wanted to kiss Ale or something. That was how it was meant to work, surely? No, there was no doubt in his mind now; he was straight. Normal. Okay.

That settled, he came back into Miguel’s room where Miguel was rifling through his drawers and wardrobe. A pair of clean warm peach briefs hit him on the head and he grinned as he lazily dried himself off before drawing on the familiar snug fitting underwear and dropping back comfortably onto his bed to watch Miguel.

“Okay,“ said Miguel. “I’m trying to decide what to wear. For the party.” He held two shirts side by side. Once more, he was sporting nothing more than ‘PARIS’ printed on soft black cotton, curving across his backside. “What do you think?”

“You could go just like that,” suggested Elliot slyly, “but you might scare the girls!”

Miguel peered back over his shoulder to where he knew the letters were tattooed over his rear end. “Elllo little lady,” he intoned in a fake French accent. He placed his hands on his hips and ‘strutted’! “My name is Miguel – I’m from gay Paris. Would you like to try my tasty croissants!”

Elliott shrieked as Miguel followed up with the same arm smooching thing they’d seen Sam do the previous evening.

“Okay,” giggled Miguel. “Now get your fat bum off that bed and get over here so we can kit you out!”

* * *

It had been well past eight-thirty before they got over to Estela’s home. Alejandro had been late, though nobody other than Elliott seemed bothered. When they finally rolled up to the gates, he was a bit taken aback that there had actually been gates, let alone the long driveway up to the house!

If you could call it a house.

“Bloody hell!” he hissed in English, peering through the window at the darkening grounds. There was a couple of other cars queued by the house front archways and unloading occupants. They piled out of the car and he became even more self-conscious as Estela, flanked by a lady who she introduced as her mother, seemed to disregard the other guests in favour of giving her whole attention to Alejandro, Miguel and himself.

"You're here!" she squealed, throwing her arms around Ale, then Miguel and finally jumping at him and hugging him tightly. "I'd begun to think you weren't coming!" she enthused, introducing them to her mother as though it were some wedding line-up! Elliott felt uncomfortable again as Estela's mom pierced him with a knowing glance; one that made him feel guilty without actually having done anything!

Estela became distracted by the arrival of a group of girls who seemed to be from her school. They had apparently travelled some distance to get there and, by the looks of the bags, were staying the night. Moving away, they put their present and card on a table…with everyone else’s.

“Looks like Mama was right,” grinned Miguel as they eyed the enormous multi-colored pile. Taking the only things they were now carrying – swimwear wrapped in a towel - they made their way around the back of the house to where the party was getting into full swing. Their senses were assaulted by lights, lively music, and the enticing smell of spicy food.

“Now this is more like it!” laughed Alejandro as he waved to several friends. After that, for Elliott, the evening became a bit of a blur.

The villa was enormous, though most people were being kept outside and were spread over the patio, the pool area and into the gardens. Miguel was around and about, knowing more people than Elliott would have expected, and Alejandro was never far away and kept him company.

At first, Estela insisted on dragging him around to introduce him to her friends, most of which he had never seen in his life before and it was likely to stay that way. For her sake he smiled a lot, but it didn't take too long before he decided that parties like this were not really his thing. It was noisy, energetic and, in the midst of a throng, he felt out of place and lonely. He would have liked to have tried the pool like many of the others who were splashing around and staying cool in the heavy sultry night, but it was heaving and he'd lost Miguel.

Though the party was mostly an outdoor event, the food was being prepared indoors and carried out to the huge patio area. Last minute - and unknown to most - Estela's mother, Gabriela Fernandez, had arranged for sides to be added to the enormous full cover marquee. It was going to rain – in fact it really needed to. The sooner the better. The pending storm would break and, when it did, the party would go on, undercover and undismayed.

The spirited music bursting forth from speakers beside the DJ’s table was unrelenting and the crowd moved to it with a frenzied energy. Lightly clad skin touched as the beat of the night moved them closer. The food was good and Elliott was ravenous - and even a horde of teens such as one that surrounded him was unlikely to starve.

Though to him it still felt unwieldy and out of control, Elliott scanned the surroundings and saw numerous adults, watching carefully. Several at the pool; one near the changing tents for those making ready to swim; another further out on the lawn and a couple in and around the patio. Smartly dressed and observant. Staff? Security?

Exploring a little, and to escape the noise, he went inside. He didn't get far as a polite but firm guard smiled and pointed him back the way he'd come.

"Do you know where Miguel is?" he asked Estela as she swept by with some friends. She shook her head, but came back, alone, a few minutes later.

"He might be upstairs..." she suggested. Her eyes flashed, though her voice gave nothing away.

Upstairs? How did Miguel get upstairs - and why? What was he doing?

"Come with me," soothed Estela. "We can go and look if you want?"

Look? Yes - let's go look.

He followed Estela to the foot of the sweeping stairway and she waved aside the guard. "It’s okay, he's with me, Carlos." The guard subsided and they passed through.

"Estela, why would Miguel be upstairs?” he asked as they reached the top. “I thought they were stopping everyone?"

Estela paused, but then shrugged. "Some can get by."

She led him down one of several corridors to a room and he followed her in, expecting to find Miguel. It was a bedroom. It was empty.

"No - he's not here. Is there anywhere else we can look?"

"It's my bedroom,” murmured Estela. “Do you like it?"

Elliott turned and looked around with greater interest. Estela's bedroom. She slept here. Through a half open door he could see an opulent bath and rows of girl's toiletries.

"Nice!" he admitted. "I like your bed," he added. The bed was huge and covered with richly decorated cushions. He sat on the corner to test it, but jumped up quickly, embarrassed he'd taken such a liberty. "Can we look for Miguel now?" he asked, returning to the door, but stopping in surprise as Estela blocked the way out. His nose twitched as he picked up her scent. Sweet roses captured him - light and sensuous. Only then did he notice the ear rings.

Estela watched his eyes and her hand went to the single stone at her throat. "It's beautiful," she said, her voice oddly husky.

"Estela," he muttered, and then stopped, shocked at how huskily strained his own voice felt. Outside there was the deep rumble of a storm about to break; in the room it was overpoweringly warm and close - almost as close as Estela had become!

"Perhaps we should..," he continued, but froze as her arm snaked around his waist. The other reached round her back and locked the door, then turned off the light such that the room glowed dimly with soft luminescence filtering through from the en-suite bathroom.

“It’s only us. Nobody need know,” she murmured, drawing his frame towards herself.

Powerless to know how to end it, her lips touched his; gently at first and becoming more persistent and passionate as he didn’t resist. He didn’t know how and was helpless too to stop the rising firmness in his groin. She felt it and rocked gently against him, encouraging the complete breakdown of his resolve.

“You want it too, Elli. I know you do,” she crooned persuasively.

Struck dumb, he held on to her and tried to cry out as she began to massage him through his underwear - where were his jeans? - until, unexpectedly, Estela became Alejandro, gripping him now and driving him hard as, outside, lightning tore the sky apart, lighting up the room with a burst of powerful electric energy.

Dropping down to kneel in front of him, the lanky teen looked up and smiled. His black hair was damp and he was carrying a wet t-shirt. “Nice,” he said, peeling down the black briefs Elliott was wearing – the ones with the word PARIS tattooed on the back.

As Elliott stared down, another bolt of electricity passed over and through him and his mouth opened wide in a soundless desperation. Helpless stop what was happening, an intense volley of thunder finally crashed about him and he started shouting – writhing around in the bed and waking himself up.

“NO- NO! DON’T! I DON’T WANT TO!” he cried, sitting up and hitting out at an invisible assailant. Alongside him and, up until then soundlessly asleep in their room in the Ortiz apartment, Miguel sat bolt upright too.

“Elli! Ellli! What’s wrong? You’re dreaming!”

Wild eyed and perspiring heavily, Elliott stared into the darkness, his breath heaving, ragged and distressed, unable at first to distinguish between dream and reality. He remembered arriving at the Fernandez villa in the car with Miguel and Ale; leaving their gift on the table, that had happened too – but the rest had become all muddled and distorted. All the dream about Estela and then…Alejandro…where had all THAT come from?

“Oh shit…” he was all he could get out.