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11. uncle victor repellent

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟏
" 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 "
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            It's just a minor setback.

This is what I tell myself after that disastrous meeting with the D-Class girls. In my head, it's not that bad. Just a small misunderstanding. I'm sure I'll sort it out as soon as class starts again. Mack, on the other hand, claims that it's unsalvageable.

"You called them the runts of St. Madeleine, Nico," he says, sitting on my bed, currently coddling Ara on his lap. "You might as well have written a red F on their foreheads."

"I was just speaking –"

"Objectively," he says, rolling his eyes. "I get it. You've said so a hundred times, but that doesn't change the fact that you've offended them. Yes, he did. He offended them, hasn't he, Ara-baby-boo?"

Ugh, that baby talk! Deep down, I think it's annoying that Mack's giving more attention to the cat than me. I cross my arms and pout at both of them. 

What was so bad about what I said? I was offering to help the D-Class break out of their status. That can't be bad. But who knows how their little brains work? Maybe I did offend them. "Fine," I say. "I'll be more respectful next time."

"Next time?"

"Uh yeah," I say like it's a no-brainer. "I'm not gonna let something like this derail my whole plan."

Mack shakes his head. "You don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Nope," I quip. "It's called persistence, Mack."

"It's called stubbornness," he disputes.

I shrug. "Po-tay-to, po-tah-to."

My bedroom door creaks open, revealing a disgruntled Dad carrying a suitcase. "Your uncle's leaving in a minute. He's in the kitchen. Care to say goodbye?"

Hallelujah! When one door closes, another one opens, and fortunately this one leads Uncle Victor out of my life for a couple of months.

"I'll be right out," I tell Dad, trying to keep my excitement under wraps but as soon as he closes the door, I swoon to the bed and collapse next to Mack and Ara. "Thank God! That's one less problem on my plate."

Mack chuckles. "He will not be missed."

"He'll be back on the 4th of July," I say, dreading it already. Uncle Victor isn't even a naturalized American citizen, but he gets more patriotic than I do. No one loves fireworks and barbeques and noise and freedom more than your average chauvinist. "What I'd give to get him to stay away forever."

"You can let me live with you. I'll be your Uncle Victor repellent, driving pesky relatives away with flair and pizzazz! I could even ask one of my theater buddies to pretend to be my boyfriend just to drive it in. How do you think Uncle Victor would react to seeing two guys make out?"

A tempting offer indeed. Uncle Victor would implode. "Come on," I say, shooing Ara off his lap. "Let's give dear Uncle Victor a proper sendoff."

We're halfway down the stairs when we hear Uncle Victor droning on about something in the kitchen. Dad cuts him off with a muffled rebuke, and their voices lower down to conspiring decibels.

Color me intrigued. Nothing invites eavesdropping better than two people whispering in the kitchen.

I motion for Mack to slow down and listen. We pause just out of sight near the doorway. Turning my ear to the kitchen, I hear the voices picking up.

Uncle Victor's grating voice is saying, "I'm just saying, Phillip, it would do you well to keep Nicolas from associating with that queer. He's a bad influence on my nephew."

What the actual fuck. I turn to Mack to check if he's hearing this. The soft scoff that escapes his mouth ascertains it. I shake my head at him, mentally saying, "He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"It doesn't bother me." He shrugs and rolls his eyes.

Thankfully, Dad defends my best friend from the misplaced animosity. "I appreciate your concern over Nico's wellbeing, but Malik is a good kid. They've been friends since forever."

"Which is why I'm concerned," Uncle Victor presses on. "Being close to that kind of person for that long, it does things to 'ya. They're very influential, the queers. What if Nicolas gets it, you know?"

"Gets what?" Dad asks, and I can picture him crossing his arms over his chest.

"The homosexuality."

I either want to groan or laugh my ass off. Beside me, Mack facepalms, looking so done with my uncle's ignorance. Seriously, it's 2022. How are there still people who believe that being gay is contagious?

It's not like it's COVID. 

"Victor, that's preposterous," Dad says, his voice worn down by the level of stupidity he currently has to deal with.

"I'm just saying, Nicolas is growing his hair out already. What's next?"

At the mention of it, I pat my hair down. It's not even that long!

He continues, "Look, there's never been a gay kid in the Gomez family. It'd be a shame if there suddenly is one now. Personally, I don't what I'd do if I find out that I have a gay relative."

"Victor," Dad chastises, raising his voice just a little.

As always, Uncle Victor is being an ass, but this newly heightened homophobia is giving me a brilliant lightbulb moment. Maybe I don't need to drag Mack over whenever he's around if I can be the Uncle Victor repellent. Interesting...

Hopping into view, I act oblivious to their little tryst and chime in with, "Hiya! Just popping in to say goodbye, Uncle Victor."

"'Til next time, kid," he exclaims, coming in to give me a bear hug as if he hasn't just slated my best friend and made assumptions about my sexuality. What a snake.

I return the hug and even offer to take his suitcase down to the car. A few niceties won't hurt.

Uncle Victor ruffles my hair after I stuff his bags in the trunk. He fishes out a few bills from his wallet, gives them to me, and points at my head. "Get that chopped down, m'kay?"

"You betcha," I say, physically straining myself to smile. My hair is not that long!

Dad starts the car. Uncle Victor settles in on the passenger seat. Mack and I stand by the curb to see them off. Only a few more seconds and I will be free of one irksome relative. But if I play my cards right, I can be free of Uncle Victor for a lifetime.

So here's the pop quiz. What should I do to get rid of my misogynistic, homophobic asshole of an uncle?

          a.) Nothing. Just tough it out and wait until he dies.
          b.) Keep doing the same thing and invite Mack whenever he visits.
          c.) Become the Uncle Victor Repellent myself.

"So," I say, quietly enough only to get Mack's attention. My lips tug ever so lightly into a smirk which I can tell is already worrying him. He narrows his eyes, trying to figure out where I'm at. To give him a clue, I repeat what he said earlier in my bedroom. "How do you think Uncle Victor would react to seeing two guys make out?"

The look of surprise is only starting to settle on his face when I clutch the back of his neck and pull him towards me. His lips crash down on mine. Clumsy and rushed. But in the chaos of it all, I am overwhelmed the softness of his lips, the taste of mint tea, the smell of his aftershave.

There's an unmistakable gasp from the car. I don't even turn to look, I just chuckle into the kiss before going all in; pulling Mack's hair, biting his lip, grinding down on him. Just PDA galore.

Of course, this little display elicits a string of of colorful curse words from my uncle. There's the ever-reliable tangina, the stinging bwesit, even the mellow 'lang hiya.

Finally, I pull away and see Uncle Victor fuming with his tomato face pressed up against the car window. He struggles to get the door opened, but it seems that Dad has locked it shut. God bless my father.

Dad drives off. I can still hear Uncle Victor yelling so I clasp Mack's hand and wave him goodbye. The car turns a corner and disappears from our sight, taking Uncle Victor away for good I hope.

Adrenaline-high, I burst laughing. "Did you see his face?!"

For some reason, Mack is flustered, dare I say stunned speechless even. His hair is all floofed up, my fault. Cheeks red and flushed, also my fault. I really should've warned him better.

"You okay?" I ask, the residue of laughter still on my lips. When he doesn't reply, I step closer and nudge his side. He startles like I've just woken him up.

"Uh-huh," he chimes, running his fingers through his hair, effortlessly bringing it back to its former glory. He clears his throat. "I have to go."

"What?"

"I have to go," he repeats. "I'll text you later."

Mack speed walks down the down the street, heading straight for his house. He forgot his coat. He's in such a hurry, he slips on the ice once or twice. It gets me laughing again as I enter my house.

***

          8:19 p.m. and Mack still hasn't texted. How late is later?

There's a knock on my door, and Dad pokes his head in. I'm sure he has some questions. Mom is probably going to hear about this, too. They'll both think I'm gay, but that's a misinformation I'm willing to take if it means no more Uncle Victor.

"Hey, Dad," I acknowledge.

He steps in, carrying a basket of fresh laundry with him. He sets it down on the bed and sits right next to it. Leaning forward, he clasps his fingers together in a way a therapist would. "Something you want to tell me, buddy?"

Ah, shit. I chuckle because I'm still feeling high off the adrenaline of earlier, and also because I knew this would happen. "Dad, I was just riling Uncle Victor up."

"Ah," he muses, pursing his lips and nodding. "So you're not –"

"Dad, no!" I quickly deny. "Really, it was just a prank. Mack was in on it, too."

He purses his lips and nods again. Something tells me he doesn't believe this. But he says, "Okay."

He stands from the bed and takes his basket with him. I assume he'd head for the door now that I've cleared things up, but he doesn't. He walks towards me, fishing something out of the laundry basket.

"Found this under your hamper a while ago," he says.

He hands it to me. A necktie. A standard issue St. Madeleine's tie. I remember when the striped blue-and-white cloth was wrapped neatly around my hand. And I remember the boy who tied it.

Oh, no. 

"So this doesn't have your initials embroidered on it," he says. "Doesn't belong to Mack either." 

Oh, shit.

He probably thinks I've had a boy in my room. "Dad, it's not what you think," I say, but he's at the door already.

"You might want to give that back to the owner, buddy." He winks, then shuts the door. 

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