‘Gifted’

Charlotte Aeb is an artist and photographer who graduated from the CEPV in Vevey. After her studies, she travelled through Hong Kong, Taiwan, Hanoi, as well as Hobart and Sydney, where she exhibited in galleries throughout her journey. In 2017, she co-directed a short film inspired by a short story by Charles Bukowski, which was screened at the Lausanne Underground Film Festival and at the UpLink cinema in Tokyo. She also worked on a series of videos entitled "PORNFOOD" in collaboration with noise musicians from Hanoi, Tokyo, Moscow, Novosibirsk and London, as well as other short films exploring the theme of the flesh, shown at the meovco gallery in Fribourg and Novosibirsk in 2018.

Gifted

At nine I was skipped two years ahead in school, by eighteen I had graduated University, and by twenty-five I had done so much cocaine, not even my mother’s plastic surgeon could fix my nose. It would be nice to blame her and my father. In contrast, it would be easy to blame myself. But it was the least kept secret amongst my family that the fault of my so-called demise lay with my cousin, Anastasia.

Annie and I had grown up together, raised like siblings. I did love her, but she had always been exceptionally average. Unfortunately she dulled out against my own academic achievements. Perhaps in a public-school Annie may have fared better, but amongst the elites like myself she just didn’t stand out. Obviously, I did my best to support her – she was family. She never did quite take to my teaching methods however. I think it was her low grades that caused her to act out, rebelling and all that.

Mischievous, facetious, and scarily queer; Our nanny used to make fun of her. She called her ‘charming Anastasia’ and called me ‘flawless Alistair’. I understood what she meant; Annie saw it as a compliment though. But I don’t think anyone saw her as truly charming. Almost no one. I did. Even if our nanny or our parents didn’t, I always found her delightful. Annie was so entertaining. And it was nice to know someone was watching my back. Even when we bickered.

I think it was her poor-manners that upset her parents the most. I had often overheard our parents calling her impolite. But then so were they to speak about her in such a way. At boarding school it was amazing to see how some of the boys debased themselves. And they were supposedly the cream of the crop.

Anyway, Annie excelled in other areas. Not like our parents cared. She made the first team for hockey in our fourth-year. Despite being disadvantaged, she could even keep up with some of the boys. I too made the first team for football, which our parents didn’t care about either. But I had other stuff going on. Annie, well she had nothing. No, nothing was too harsh. She had me. She also had her best friend, Robert, or Bobby as he preferred. He was nice enough, but I had tried to talk to Annie about the company she kept. Not that she ever listened to me.

Bobby was not a good friend to her though. It culminated one week, when we were fifteen. We’d been at school, and argued over him. It had been a Friday evening, and bored I’d decided to head to the girl’s boarding house to visit her. She was in there with Bobby, watching a film. He’d had a haircut since I’d last seen him. His hair was shorter now, slightly more masculine then it had been. It suited him. He looked less like a girl. A bit less pretty.

After seeing them together I probably would have walked away had she not noticed me already. She jumped up, rushing to pull me over to watch the film with her. It seemed to be an old romance film.

Bobby greeted me fairly warmly, pulling me into a hug. I stiffened up, and his hands lowered slightly, his fingers brushing against my lower back.

‘Don’t do that,’ I warned, breaking our connection.

‘Oh,’ he said, surprised, ‘I’m so sorry,’

Annie looked up with a confused look on her face.

‘Play nicely boys,’ she taunted us.

We sat on the couch as a three, Annie in the middle of course, barring us from each other. As the film went on, fortunately only girls passed through the common room. No boys did. None of my cohort.

We stayed in silence. Besides the occasional laugh from either Annie or Bobby. His laugh was high, almost higher than Annie’s. He had a girl’s laugh, gentle and cute.

After the film ended, Annie invited us to have dinner with her and some of the girls in her house. I was unsure whether to say yes, especially after Bobby did so. But I was tired, and I was hungry, and it was convenient. Yes, it would just be easier to eat with Annie and Bobby then to rush back to our house. So I agreed.

The dinner was salad. Usual for the girl’s houses. I think we were meant to have steak
that night. It was good for the girls definitely, but less so for Bobby and myself. Especially
for a footballer like myself. We found some seats in the corner of the dining hall, but soon the place began filling up with young women to join us. Most of them were attractive. Blondes and brunettes, large breasts, strong arms, strong jaws. Annie herself fit in pretty well with the attractive house.

She was definitely a pretty girl. In the last year she’d really grown into her looks, and into her body. I thought she was shapely.

In some ways Bobby could also fit in with the women. It was especially prevalent when he had longer hair. Then again, from the neck up he could be a tomboy, or possibly a dyke. He had a feminine face, and a girly demeanour. But physically he seemed surprisingly strong. His body was sharp. It had edges. Blades. I’d seen him shirtless once. During PE, a few weeks ago. It surprised me. Bobby was almost masculine. As masculine as people like him could be.

Beginning to eat our food, three girls sat next to us, nattering away about something unimportant. One was a blonde, one a brunette, and the other a ginger. The brunette was the most attractive, in a plain-ish way. I’d seen her around before. We’d occasionally made eye-contact, but she’d always look away, blushing. I liked her hair. It was longer than both the other girls’, and she kept it in a high ponytail. It was similar to Annie’s, only a few shades darker.

The three girls greeted Annie. They smiled at her, and acknowledged Bobby before turning to me.

‘Well, well, well,’ the ginger said, in an annoyingly high-pitched voice, half-smiling.

‘Alistair Knight,’ the blonde picked up, ‘what are you doing here in Austen House?’

‘Eating.’ Bobby chimed in, ‘it’s dinner.’

The blonde and the ginger looked at each other and laughed. I shot Bobby a dirty look for answering in my place.

‘I’m seeing Annie.’ I said, not really sure what they were getting at.

‘Sure, sure,’ the blonde said, still snickering, ‘and not anyone else?’

The brunette looked away again, smiling.

‘No.’ I said.

The brunette dropped her gaze, a look of disappointment washing over her face. She returned to picking at her food, pushing it around her plate. My tone had come off harsher than I had intended, but I ignored it, and returned to listening in on Annie and Bobby. I ignored the side eyes I was getting from her friends. I did glance back at her though, but she didn’t return my looks.

‘I don’t know,’ Bobby continued, mid conversation with Annie, ‘I think it could be good, but I’m not sure I want to put myself out there like that.’

‘Yeah, but like it could be helpful,’ Annie said, ‘then again it’s like, not your responsibility Bobby.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked.

‘Oh,’ Bobby said, looking slightly uncomfortable, ‘some of the first-years were thinking of making a pride society. And they asked if I wanted to join, and I don’t know, set it up with them.’

‘Really?’ I asked. ‘Like in school?’

‘Yeah,’ Bobby said.

I didn’t really know what to think about having a society like that in school, I mean, surely it wouldn’t be a safe place for them. Not if anyone else in the school found out about it. Anyways, there were only like two gay kids in the school, including Bobby. A gay club seemed kind of unnecessary.

Before I spoke, I looked over to Annie who gave me a look, as if she was warning me to be careful.

‘I mean it’s a bit weird,’ I said, ‘would you join Annie?’

Annie and Bobby shared a look.

‘I mean, maybe, to support Bobby of course. I mean, you’d be more than welcome to come if you wanted to.’

‘Definitely not.’ I said, slightly annoyed at the suggestion.

It was a dumb question. It would be bad enough if our parents had found out that Annie joined, let alone if I did as well. I’m not sure what would be worse: my mother’s disappointment or my father’s anger.

‘Like do you really need a gay club?’ I asked Bobby, ‘like yeah I get like sometimes the lads call you names and stuff, and it’s shit, but like it can’t be that bad here?’

‘I mean, it’s not really about that,’ he trailed off.

‘Then what is it about?’

‘Come on Ali, drop it,’ Annie said.

I shot her a small look. I didn’t think I was being out of line, if anything I was being overly politically correct.

‘No, no, it’s fine,’ Bobby said, ‘like, I think it’s more so people have a place to go, like there’s not really anywhere else in the school.’

‘Do you really need a space like that though?’

‘Everyone deserves somewhere to feel welcomed.’

‘But isn’t that everywhere?’

‘Enough,’ Annie interrupted, ‘Ali, stop it. You’re pissing me off.’

‘How?’ I asked, ‘Bobby doesn’t care.’

‘Well just leave it,’ she said, ‘I don’t like hearing you talk about this stuff.’

‘What, why?’

‘Because you don’t know what you’re talking about.’

The meal ended shortly after that conversation, with Annie kicking me out and asking Bobby to leave. As we did leave, she was pretty quiet. She gave Bobby a hug though, whispering something to him.

Leaving Austen House, I tried to speed up, but Bobby caught up, and we walked together, out of pace. Bobby tried several times to muster up conversation as we walked back to our house, but I only gave single word answers each time. I wasn’t even sure why I did.

Normally we could make at least a little conversation.

Going back to our house we split off quickly. I went back to my room and I assume Bobby did the same. Alone again, I messaged Annie to ask if she was okay. She didn’t reply for the rest of the night. I knew it was going to be fine though. We often fell out, especially about stuff like this. Normally I would have dropped the topic when she first asked, but I didn’t think I was offending Bobby.

The rest of the evening I spent relaxing. I did have a test on Monday, for Latin, but I
knew I would do fine, so I spent the night watching films and reading. I decided to go to bed at half one. An hour and a half later than I should have done.

As I walked to the bathroom, I passed by our matron who stopped me.

‘Excuse me Mr. Knight, what are we doing up so late?’ She asked, stopping.

Matron was an old and pudgy woman, with a face resembling a bulldog. As she spoke, she shoved a chubby finger in my direction.

‘Just the bathroom, matron,’ I said.

She gave me a cynical look, but mumbled something and walked off. Miserable
woman. Probably not getting any. That was a strange thought; matron getting some. I mean she had to have gotten it at some point. I shuddered. What an uncomfortable thought. In the bathroom, I prepared to go to bed alone, when the door opened. It was Bobby, in a plain shirt and a pair of white briefs. He looked surprised when he saw me.

‘Oh, sorry Ali,’ he said, ‘I didn’t think anyone would be awake.’

‘It’s fine,’ I said.

I gave him a look up and down, his eyes following mine. Bobby had a strange choice
of underwear. Briefs. They were tight, revealing. Surely it was wrong for him to walk around the boarding house dressed like that. He was practically naked. Especially for someone like him. It wasn’t right. It was almost predatory.

‘What you doing up so late?’ Bobby asked.

‘Nothing,’ I said.

I turned my body around, so I was facing the sink and away from him.

‘Has Annie messaged you?’ He asked.

‘No.’ I said.

‘Look I’m sorry,’ Bobby said, taking a step forward, ‘you were fine earlier, like, we’re fine you know.’

‘Yeah, yeah, cool.’ I said.

I wished he’d go away, leave me alone, but instead he took another step.

‘Like, we’re fine.’

He reached out, putting a hand on my shoulder, and I whipped around immediately. We were close now, our bodies almost touching. We were staring into each other. I don’t know what I looked like, but he looked sort of terrified. I don’t know how I was feeling. Surprised, confused, scared, I felt it all. He moved in closer, licking his lips, wetting them. I pushed my face in too, before realisation overwhelmed me, and I immediately pulled back, knocking Bobby away in the
process.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked, shocked.

‘What,’ he said, his voice cracking.

Bobby was frozen.

‘Ali, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.’

‘I’m not like you.’ I cut him off, ‘I’m not into all that shit. I’m not gay.’

Bobby said nothing, unmoving. I wanted him to go, to run away. But he didn’t.

‘I’m not,’ I said, mustering up the confidence to speak, ‘I’m not a faggot, Bobby.’

‘Ali,’ he said, hurt in his voice.

‘Don’t.’

If he wasn’t going to leave, I was, and I shoved past him, rushing back to my room. I dove into my bed, burying my head in my pillow. It meant nothing. It meant nothing. I wasn’t gay. I wasn’t like Bobby. I was normal. A footballer. A normal footballer. I closed my eyes, but the image of Bobby wouldn’t go. His face. His lips. His briefs.

Fuck.

I needed to do something. Someone. A girl. A hot, sexy, feminine girly girl. Big boobs, a piece of ass. The brunette. She was practically drooling over me at dinner. I got out of bed, sending Annie another text, telling her I was coming back over. I knew I had to be careful; it was late. But I could get back to Austen uncaught.

Sneaking out of my own boarding house, I made the short journey over to Austen House. It was risky, sure, I don’t know what would have happened if I was caught. Fortunately I wasn’t, and I made it to Annie’s house, sneaking in through the back window the girls purposely left open at night.

I crept upstairs, careful to avoid the girls’ matron. She was even older than our own, and twice as miserable. I headed to Annie’s room first, and hope she’d know where the brunette’s room was. Getting to Annie’s room, I slowly pushed it open and closed it behind me. She was in bed, half-asleep, and she jumped when she saw me.

‘Annie, it’s me,’ I whispered, ‘it’s just me.’

‘Ali?’ She asked, putting her lamp on, ‘what are you doing here?’

‘The brunette,’ I said, ‘which is her room?’

‘What?’

‘I need to know, now.’

‘What, you mean Lucy, why?’

‘I’m going to have sex with her.’

‘What?’

‘I’m going to pop her cherry.’

‘Ali, what the fuck? No, I’m not telling you where she is. What’s going on with you? Has something happened?’

I stopped.

‘Did something happen in your boarding house?’

She looked up at me skeptically and I froze. Her tone of voice. It sounded like she knew something. But she couldn’t.

‘Sit down,’ she said, patting the bed next to her.

I did as she asked, dropping down next to her, our sides touching.

‘It was Bobby.’ I said, ‘He was weird.’

‘What?’ She asked, ‘how? What did he do?’

‘He tried kissing me.’

His lips passed through my mind again, and I forced myself to shudder.

‘Ali are you sure?’ Annie asked, her face dropping ‘I wouldn’t think he’d try something like that. He’s not like that.’

‘He did,’ I protested, ‘and I’m not, I’m not gay.’

‘Ali that’s fine, but sleeping with some poor girl isn’t going to prove that.’

‘It could make me feel better.’

Annie didn’t say anything, and I looked up. She was staring at me. I stared back. I swallowed something, and I moved my face closer to her own. Still, she did nothing. I moved in further, and placed my lips on hers, kissing her deeply. I pulled away from her, but she remained frozen. No. She was still, but not frozen, not like Bobby had been.

‘Ali?’ She whispered, barely audible.

‘Don’t say anything,’ I said.

I stood up, moving my body on top of hers.

‘Ali?’ She said again.

‘It’s fine,’ I said, ‘we’re fine.’

I pressed my bodyweight on hers, holding her in place. She looked pretty underneath me, still, a marble statue. I kissed her again, deeper this time, rougher, more passionate. Her body was motionless below me. I kept going though, uniting us, interlocking our bodies.

We made love that night. Falling asleep together. We fell asleep cuddling, my arms around Annie’s waist. She didn’t move for the rest of the night, only finally stirring after I got up and released her.

‘We had a good night last night,’ I said, getting changed.

She didn’t react again. I’m not sure why she was being off. Maybe it was about Bobby, or maybe it was about the brunette. I get why. It’s not easy to hear what she had to say about her best friend. It couldn’t have been.

Taking her again, I kissed the back of her neck.

‘I’ll see you Monday,’ I said, ‘give me a message if you need some help with the test.’

Cameron Wagg is a writer from Lichfield, United Kingdom. He studies English Literature and Creative Writing at University. When not writing for his degree Cameron can be found writing for pleasure, and enjoys fiction, non-fiction, and script-writing. @camwg7