Hugh's Crime

“You know when you’re in love,” Hugh said, animated. “When you don’t want to sleep with them.”

It was lunch break in school, the sun was barely emerging and the two boys sat in the shade. Tommy gave Hugh a flat “What?”

“Listen,” Hugh replied, unfazed. “You know you’re at this age, when you want to get into the pants of every single semi-attractive girl who passes you?”

“Um. Sure. I guess…” Tommy said, slowly.

“You do,” Hugh nodded. “Course you do; you’re fourteen how can you not? Hormones”- he waved his hands- “everything. But that’s infatuation. When you’re in love, you don’t want that. You want looking and listening. For a good while, first. Then you want touching.”

Tommy Rennon had just made the mistake of asking Hugh about his new found love Cassie Cartwright, the new girl from America. It had been an unhealthy relationship at first; Hugh had been raised on clichés and was certain a Valentine’s rose would melt her heart. It almost did, but the highest level of heart liquefying went to Hugh when he got that smile back in return. It was the smile that said “God bless you”. The smile that said “How sweet”. That dangerous smile that tells a man “There could be something here” when the woman really means “I do like you, but please continue doing stuff like this, not too needy though, else it’s never gonna go anywhere. Don’t think this solitary rose is enough to win me over. You haven’t quite yet.”

But Hugh, of course, being a dumb boy instantly assumed Cassie’s head was over her heels in a split second, and did almost nothing to further their relationship but stare. Cassie sure stared back, but only to see if he’d actually hurry up and do something. He didn’t at first, just wasted the hours away with observation on Cassie that bordered on creepy- they were friends, not too close, but they had known almost nothing about each other. By watching Cassie, staying close to her conversations in class- he had some input occasionally, it wasn’t quite stalking- he had managed to deduce that their interests were somewhat similar, with a couple of important aspects; they were both close to God, and they went to the same church.

It was a huge church in a huge town that was huge on religion, with countless numbers of pretty, young, blonde girls- you couldn’t blame him for not noticing her- but Hugh almost kicked himself when he heard her utter the words “My pastor, Father Illis.” The number of times he must have missed her! So this was the perfect place to speak to her, close to the heart of Jesus. He felt an overwhelming confidence, now. His prayers on Saturday night were filled with thanks, and he awoke on Sunday morning with a Cheshire Cat grin.

He had told all this to Tommy, but still got a confused gaze back.

“I don’t need your life story,” Tommy said. He ran a comb through his shiny black hair and returned to his quizzical look. “What were you saying about touching?”

“No no,” Hugh shook his head. “It’s the stuff before the touching you need to focus on- after the rose, when I was an idiot?”

That quizzical look again. Tommy was the kid who listened- he loved stories, and listened to any and all gossip without any intention of blabbing- and gave good advice. He was well liked.

“Okay, listen,” said Hugh, taking a breath. “I’m gonna go on a tangent here.”

Tommy raised his hands in a “go right ahead” fashion.

“Okay,” Hugh said again. “You know when you’re in love with someone-“

“When you don’t want to-“

“That too, shut up. You know you’re in love with someone, when- with all the innocence in the world- you can just look at them, you know? Absolutely everything they do is interesting. You know they have flaws, but you ignore them. Cassie talks too much, I don’t care. Gives me stuff to listen to. And that accent, my goodness! You start to get to know everything they do- their ticks, their quirks, how they move, how they speak. When you’re in love, you want to know everything about them, and not just what they do over the weekends. And you start seeing small things that most people wouldn’t notice. Like the back of her neck is so damn smooth you just want to stroke it. And she sometimes has that strand of hair that you could brush back, and get an excuse to just feel her hair because you noticed how shiny it was. Fluffy too, ya know?”

“I’m pretty sure this is some kind of weird obsession you’ve got going on here,” Tommy looked genuinely concerned. “Listen, if you’ve been staring at this girl for so long you know the layout of her hair, you might want to step back a little bit.”

But, when Hugh had actually got to church and sought her out the following fortnight, it didn’t seem like that at all. There were no friends here to embarrass him- his parents were at the back of the crowd of people and let him make his way up to nearer the front when he said there was a friend of his here. He had spotted her earlier- it was relatively easy once he actually looked. He poked her in the back lightly a couple of times, hoping for the best.

“Rose Boy!” her eyes lit up, and Hugh’s heart seemed to freeze back up and melt again in a matter of a couple of seconds. “I had no clue you came here- thank God for this, right?”

And Cassie hugged him, and at this point of the story, Hugh turned to the touching he was talking about.

“So, when you’re in love wi-

“Obsessed with someone.”

“When you’re in love with someone,” Hugh continued, frowning. “Every single touch feels like a miracle. Even that tap on her back was like the start of a big adventure-“

Tommy rolled his eyes.

“And when she hugged me- my God. It was like a first kiss. I’ve hugged girls before, course, been kissed- ironically, which sucked- by one or two, but this one, two second hug just blew me away. I could feel each of her fingers, where they were on my back. I could feel exactly where the pressure was from her arms. My face was in her hair, and I still remember the smell and the texture. Fluffy.”

He smiled broadly.

“Cause the next stage,” he said. “Touching- is exactly that. You’ve got to know what she’s like, how she moves, what she looks like. Then you want to get to know that stuff physically, ya know? You want to stroke the hair, brush her cheeks, hold her hands. But you don’t want to have sex with them. When you’re in love, everyone wants to take it slow. You don’t feel like it’s right until you’ve really got to know them. And we did this stuff, man. After church we got together- there’s a field out back, pretty private, lots of trees. We just sat there forever. My parents didn’t mind, they’re push overs, just gave ‘em a call. We weren’t even talking for most of it, we just held hands, brushed each other’s hair. I mean- we made sure we were both okay with it. She flat out told me “I really like you, Hugh.”

“You didn’t tell her you loved her, did you?” Tommy said, worried.

“Nah,” Hugh shook his head. “I watch TV, I’m not an idiot. I just told her back, “I like you too”. That’s when we held hands and we looked into each other for ages. Her eyes are blue, but it goes green round the edges- you notice stuff like that when you actually love them.”

Tommy rolled his eyes again, but he was enjoying it really. He still loved listening to people’s stories.

“And then we just hugged,” Hugh grinned. “And then we prayed- thank the big guy, ya know?”

And these are some of the basic events one must remember to understand Hugh Lemming’s killing himself.

***

We already know that Hugh and Cassie do indeed sleep with each other, so we already know that Hugh’s words about touching are nonsense. Their relationship does indeed turn physical, and they do indeed stay very much in love. Well; that infuriating teenage love that youths convince themselves they have. The nagging love, the love that inflicts worry on boys in particular. “What if she hates me?” “What if I’m being too forward?” “What if that half-hearted text with no smiley face means she’s fallen out of love with me and found a new boy on her trip to Europe?”

It was over-analytical and, frankly, bad for Hugh’s health.

His story to Tommy ends there, for now, so we’ll move away from Hugh’s narrative.

He was a quiet boy, and somewhat easy to manipulate. Push around. This is something he wouldn’t admit to anyone, but suspected of himself. His parents were the same- “do what you’re told on every occasion- a boy who doesn’t complain is a likeable boy”. His parents both worked the floor in retail.

So Hugh was the friend who “did stuff” for other people. He was never bullied, he was too well-mannered and good-looking, and his grades were good enough to please the teachers but not so good as to catch the eyes of the local thugs. But, yeah, his friends took advantage of him a hell of a lot, usually without them even realising it. He was just the go-to guy, and he was fairly comfortable.

Until Hugh and Cassie became an item.

It started as simple boyfriend chivalry- he would carry her books, lend her the odd quid, take her shopping and lift her bags. Simple stuff. He was still comfortable, but was now aware of his push-over status among his school friends.

“That Hugh, I say he’s treated badly.”

“Huh? How so?”

“Apparently that Yankee bitch just makes him do stuff for her all the time.”

“What, like… oral?”

“Not cool, man. They’re both Jesus freaks, anyway. Nothing interesting in the pants. Don’t even know if they’ve kissed.”

“So, what kind of stuff?”

“I just mean she shoves him around. Chores and stuff, all the damn time. What a tool.”

Hugh heard whisperings when he wandered the corridors, increasingly large piles of books stacked in his hands. But he didn’t care. Let them think what they think; he was happy.

The small field behind the church became their regular hang-out. Always after Sunday mass, always on a Saturday afternoon and irregular visits after school. But at least four times a week. It was a gorgeous place, especially in late Autumn (or “Fall” as Cassie insisted on calling it). They couldn’t wait until Summer where the sun would shine without obstruction from cloud or occasional light rain, but for now the passionate oranges and reds of the remains of the dying trees would do just nicely. There’d always be a large pile to roll around in, and they’d sit under the branches and catch the remaining leaves that’d fall every few seconds. They both got pretty good at it, until Winter came and the trees were stripped completely bare. They had a contest to grab the last, browning leaf. Cassie won.

Hugh would bring a picnic blanket, now the chill was settling in to stay, and they’d lie between the trees, admiring the solemn sky through the skeletal branches.

“So,” Hugh said, turning to smile at her, his gloved hand holding hers. “I guess we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now?”

“I don’t see why not,” Cassie replied through a wry smile.

“Does that mean-?” Hugh began, his cheeks flushing.

“Does that mean what?”

Hugh leant in closer, their long hair intertwining between them and the Winter steam playing on each other’s faces. He licked his lips.

“Does that mean I can do this?”

Hugh pushed his face ever forward towards hers. Their eyes simultaneously began to close, lips opening just a touch. But Cassie popped her eyes open suddenly.

“Wait,” she said, Hugh opening his eyes now. “It has to be perfect.”

“I’m about to kiss Cassie Cartwright, how could this be any more perfect?”

Cassie bit her lip and smiled in the fashion that causes a man’s inner monologue to howl like a cartoon wolf.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Me too.”

Hugh’s lips brushed against hers, and for just a few seconds he could feel every detail. Every slight ridge, every dry patch of skin, every wet patch that’d been dabbed with her tongue. That coarse chill that comes with the winter air. He even swore he could feel the subtle teeth marks from that fleeting bite just moments before. Lips breaking apart, they smiled and embraced, tangled on the picnic blanket. Cassie took her leg, rubbing her foot on his calf as they talked for another hour.

***

Hugh had his birthday over the winter, and was now 15. March rolled along, and Cassie had her 15th birthday. Hugh took her to the town’s fairground, which was fairly decent despite charging extortionate rates for doughnuts, and back to his house, whereupon his father cooked them dinner and they watched a DVD in his room.

After a kiss goodnight, Hugh walked her home, hands held, in the grey evening, the street lights beginning to glow into life. His parents watched them, slightly reproachfully.

“So,” his mother, Mary said when they had left. “Cassie is… Hugh’s girlfriend?”

“It would seem that way,” his father, Michael, replied. “But they’re 15, and kids start dating younger and younger nowadays.”

“Well, I’m not having my good Christian boy up to things he shouldn’t be.”

“Ah,” Michael smiled, brushing her comment. “You’re overreacting. They know not to… you know.”

“You’re probably right. I just hope they’re being safe.”
Michael snorted and supressed a giggle, warranting a light slap on the arm from Mary.

“Not that. You know what I mean.”

Hugh’s relationship with Cassie had kept for seven months now, and it was progressing wonderfully. He had never been happier, and really felt that Cassie thought the same. They met outside the church nigh on every afternoon, talking for hours, delving into the ins and outs of each other’s personalities. Hugh was confident he could read Cassie like a book, experiencing an empathy he had never shared with another person. He knew the things that upset her, he knew the things that she loved, the things that she wanted to do. For much of the time, Cassie talked, Hugh listened. And her talkativeness meant that conversations with her could last for hours.

And they had started kissing with tongues, which was awesome.

On the eve of her birthday, Hugh nearly had a heart attack when Cassie uttered her final words of that night.

“You know,” she said, gripping his hands and looking down shyly. “I wouldn’t mind taking our relationship to a more physical level. If you know what I mean.”

She looked up and smiled. Hugh looked up with eyes wide and unblinking. He swallowed, and attempted to relax his face.

“Wha- wha- what exactly do you mean?”

She leaned in a whispered, her lips fluttering on his ear.

“You’d need protection.”

Hugh’s insides leapt around all at once, his heart in his throat, his lungs collapsing into his abdomen, his intestines tying knots around his stomach. How could he sleep with her? They had only got to first base within the last couple of months. Hell, he’d only really learned what all the bases were within the last couple of months! He hadn’t laid a hand on anything other than her waist, hands, hair, face and one leg accident that they laughed off. He was far too scared to see if he could feel her breasts, something that Tommy assured him felt awesome. (He had never done it, but it’s not like he was wrong.)

And now she wanted him to have sex with her?

Hugh could only say ‘um’ and grin like an idiot. Inside he was beating down a terrified scream.

Cassie smiled and giggled, turning to enter her home. She blew a kiss and opened the door.

“Oh,” she said, turning again. “And if you could finish that History essay for me, that’d be great.”

She spun and crossed the threshold. Before the door shut, Hugh caught himself looking at her bum (butt, she would call it) and felt ashamed of himself when he shifted his eyes quick sharp.

Cassie’s parents were very much like Hugh’s in that they didn’t overly trust the relationship their children had together. They looked out the window at the two of them as they said goodnight, speaking in hushed tones.

“Is that Cassie’s boyfriend?”

“I think so.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Tom, you don’t even know him.”

“Tracy, I know boys. And boys like that with their scruffy hair and their cheekbones are bad news.”

“They are a bit young, I suppose.”

“Damn right, they’re young. I just hope the kid goes to church. Has some sense in him.”

“I’m sure he does, Tom. She knows better than to go out with someone who doesn’t.”

***

Hugh found Tommy under that same old tree, drinking a strawberry Yazoo.

“Mate,” he said, crouching next to him and speaking in hushed tones. “Where on Earth do you get condoms?”

Before he had even finished the word ‘condoms’, Tommy choked and spat out his milkshake.

“Where can you get con-?“ he began to shout, but Hugh shushed him.

“Why,” he said, lowering his face. “In the name of all that is holy, do you want condoms?”

Hugh did a manic ‘why-the-hell-do-you-think’ dance with his arms.

“Why the hell do you think?”

“Yeah but,” Tommy looked at him quizzically. “You and Cassie?”

“Apparently!” Hugh exclaimed, looking just as surprised as Tommy did.

“She wants your P in her V?”

“She wants genital contact, yes.”

Tommy sighed, and looked thoughtful, resting his head against the thick tree trunk.

“Well, look I don’t really know. I mean, I’m only 14.” Tommy was an August baby, and he hated it. “You probably look old enough to just get some from the chemist. I mean, I think they have to sell them to you cause the other option is that you have unsafe sex.”

Hugh looked mortified.

“But no one under 16 wants to just go and buy condoms, yeah. I understand. What about your parents?”

“Ew, Tommy,” Hugh contorted his face in disgust. “That’s beyond gross. Besides, we’re all Catholic, they probably haven’t had sex since I was born.”

“Hmm. I guess,” Tommy thought for a second. “I guess I could nick some from my brother. I’m pretty sure he’s got a stash somewhere.”

“That’d be great,” Hugh grinned. “Thanks. Just one though; I don’t want to hide a stash of them only for my parents to find them and freak out.”

“Not a problem”, Tommy looked at him, forcing a big smile onto his face. “My bro Hugh Lemming, all grown up.”

***

Hugh sat on his bed, thinking. He thought about whether or not a candle was too cheesy, or if one was enough. He thought about whether he was too dressed up, or too dressed down. He thought about the Bible, and the law, whether he was going to go to hell for this. He thought about whether his parents were going to be out long enough for them not to get caught. He thought about what would happen if they were.

He thought about the sex, whether he was going to last long enough, whether she would enjoy it. Whether it would hurt. Whether the condom would break, and they didn’t have another one. He thought about the first and only time he had tried masturbating, stopping halfway through because he felt that Jesus was watching, judging him. He thought about whether he should have kept going, if it would have prepared him. He thought about whether Cassie had ever tried it, but then stopped himself quickly because that was too perverse to contemplate. He thought about whether she would show up at all.

Then the doorbell rang, and all he could think about was her.

She smiled at the candle, though in the way that told him that it was cheesy, but she didn’t mind. She liked a romantic. They began kissing, more fiercely than they had before, their tongues rubbing against each other. Side by side at first, Cassie motion for Hugh to get on top of her. He shifted his weight around, carefully making sure he didn’t crush her. It took a while, but they found a good position, his legs between hers, arms on either side, embracing her, protecting.

Cassie began unbuttoning his shirt. He realised that she had never seen him topless, let alone naked. He became hyperaware of the scratchy hairs on his chest and nipples and his total lack of abdominal muscle. But she didn’t care. She grabbed his hands and pulled them towards her chest. He felt her breasts for the first time. They felt bigger than they looked, and firm. He started to unbutton her shirt, realising that he had never seen her topless, let alone naked. As he was unbuttoning, she unzipped his fly.

Clothes lay on the floor next to the bed, and they were both naked under the covers. They giggled slightly at this point. Hugh had taken the condom from out of his pocket, and Cassie put it on for him. Apparently sex-ed was much more in-depth in America.

Proceedings began somewhat awkwardly, as they tend to do. Hugh had a hard time finding the correct place, and he had to take it out a few times after Cassie gasped in pain. There were a lot of ‘sorry’s and ‘it’s okay’s. Finally they had found a rhythm that was fairly comfortable. Hugh put his arms round her, one on her waist and moving down her leg, one by her shoulder with his fingers running through her hair. Their faces were cheek to cheek, kissing necks.

“I love you,” Hugh whispered into her ear.

“Me too,” Cassie replied. She seemed to be stifling a moan, which Hugh took as a great sign.

Just as a great feeling began in Hugh’s body, a shivering starting to grow around his stomach, he heard a key in a lock, a lock turning, and a door opening.

“Michael, that dinner was gorgeous,” he heard his mother say.

Both pairs of eyes widened in the dark. Hugh stopped immediately and looked at Cassie in horror. He mouthed, ‘I am so sorry.’

He leapt from her, lying on his back, covering her desperately with his duvet.

“I’m just gonna check on the boy, Michael.”

His mother’s footsteps sounded cacophonous in the dead silence, the couple’s breaths held tight. He gripped her hand as he feigned sleep.

The door sprang open and light spilled in, swallowing the dark of his room and any attempt of getting away with it. His mum scanned the room. First she spotted the lacy underwear atop a pile of her son’s jeans and shirt, and then the human sized bulge next to her ‘sleeping’ son.

She screamed a scream that woke the devil.