Sand-Man's Family

by CJane Elliott

  College. Sandy tried not to think about it, because he had no idea what he was going to do. He didn’t see returning to Illinois to attend U of C. Uncle Phinney had said not to worry about it yet. Regarding graduating from high school, Phinney had suggested he call the principal. Sandy was pretty sure he’d already accumulated enough credits to graduate, given the AP and other extra-credit classes he’d taken. But the last thing he wanted was to call Principal Smith and have to hear a lecture about running away.

  “Dude.”

  Dare’s voice brought Sandy out of his daydream. “Yeah?”

  “Let’s go to my place. I wanna play you something.”

  “Sure.”

  Sandy tried to act blasé, but his stomach turned a few somersaults as he stood and followed Dare to the exit. Dare hadn’t invited him home since the day they’d met at Voodoo, and Sandy hadn’t wanted to push. And no way was he inviting Dare over to his place and exposing him to Uncle Phinney’s anxious hovering. Sandy suspected he was being unfair to Phinney—he didn’t hover that much. But for now, he liked that Dare was his own special friend and not someone he had to share with anyone.

  The last few strains of music faded as Dare and Sandy lay on the rug in Dare’s room, listening. Dare had put on a vintage Chet Baker record.

  “What do you think?” Dare turned his head, and Sandy did the same.

  He gave a start at how close their faces were. Dare’s eyes were vividly blue from this vantage point. “I liked his voice. But dude, Nina Simone and this guy…. Where’s the metal?”

  Dare grinned. “I was a real metalhead in junior high. I got loads of it. What kind? Death, thrash, metalcore, stoner?”

  “Uh, I don’t know. I was kinda joking.”

  Dare’s smile turned wicked. “Okay, Opie. Shoulda known a nice Catholic boy like you wouldn’t be into metal. How about I put on some ChristianRock.net?”

  “Ha-ha. How about you put on whatever else you want us to listen to? And no, I’m not into Christian rock.” Sandy stopped, because Dare had a funny look on his face. “What?”

  Dare dropped his gaze to Sandy’s mouth, and Sandy’s insides began to rev. But Dare still didn’t make a move, which was nuts. He had to see how badly Sandy wanted it. Sandy shifted, suddenly impatient with his own hesitation. He’d always been popular, a leader among his peers, and the object of female admiration since grade school. Probably male too, if Jade was anything to go by. He’d never had any problem initiating things with people he was attracted to.

  But Dare was different. Sandy had never hung out with anyone like him in Rockford. The tough, tattooed skater punk. The bad boy who smoked cigarettes and didn’t have a curfew. Didn’t even have parents around. At this point, though, they’d been hanging out for several weeks, enjoying each others’ company, and—

  Sandy surged forward and touched his lips to Dare’s. That seemed to be all Dare needed, for he slung his arm around Sandy’s neck and hauled him close, opening his mouth and tangling his tongue with Sandy’s. Dare tasted of cigarettes, Juicy Fruit, and coffee, and Sandy couldn’t get enough. Dare’s taste, his smell, the feeling of his wiry arm around Sandy’s neck. Dare, Dare, Dare—Sandy’s body throbbed as his heart pounded out the name.

  With a groan, Sandy rolled onto his back, landing Dare on top of him.

  Their dicks rubbed together as they continued their eager tongue dance, like neither of them could bear to tear their mouths away. God, the weight of Dare’s body on Sandy’s trapped dick felt amazing, especially how he was writhing. When Sandy thrust upward to get more friction, Dare grunted, pulled his head away, braced himself on his arms, and went to town with serious bumping and grinding. Fuuuuck, Sandy breathed, squeezing his eyes shut as his balls tightened and… Holy Mother, he was close. Dare panted and swore—then his voice rose into a series of soft cries… ah… ah… ah! And the sound of Dare coming was enough to push Sandy over the edge with a strangled moan.

  After a few moments, Dare rolled off and lay beside him. Sandy chanced a glance and was relieved to see Dare smiling at him. “I need a cig after that.”

  “I might even need one.”

  “Naw, don’t start smoking. But you can take a drag off mine.” Dare sat up and made a face. “Next time, let’s get our clothes off before.”

  Next time. Sandy liked the sound of that. He sat up too. Gross. His come was congealing in his underwear. “I agree. I guess I’ll take my underwear off and rinse it out.”

  “Dude, you can borrow some of mine. I’ll throw yours in the wash and get ’em back to you.”

  “’Kay.” Sandy restrained a smile at the prospect of more next times with Dare.

  He stood to go into the bathroom down the hall while Dare lit a cigarette. Things felt easy with Dare. No post-sex drama.

  For some reason, as he was cleaning off at the sink, a memory of his tryst with Jade flashed into his brain. Specifically, the moment right after they’d come, when Jade had appeared almost as stunned as Sandy had been… when Jade had put a surprisingly gentle hand to Sandy’s face and whispered, “You’re a heartbreaker, Sandy Nixon.”

  Sandy’s familiar wish surfaced—that he’d talked to Jade more before he’d had to run away. But then, he reminded himself, Jade hadn’t talked to him either. He’d remained as flippant and flirty as ever, but he hadn’t mentioned their hookup. Maybe it hadn’t meant that much to him, despite his sweet words right after.

  “He probably says that to all the guys,” Sandy whispered to himself in the mirror before telling himself to stop thinking about Jade and get back to Dare.

  When Sandy returned from the bathroom, Dare offered him the promised drag. Sandy took a tentative puff, then coughed while Dare laughed. “Wuss!”

  “Up yours,” Sandy wheezed as he gave him back the cigarette. “It’s a bad habit anyway.”

  “True dat.” Dare inhaled deeply and let out the smoke in a stream.

  “Ahhh. We really should be smoking weed instead. Much better for you.”

  “I haven’t smoked much of that either.”

  “You should try it. I’ll score some soon. One thing weed is good for— it makes sex awesome.” Dare quirked one side of his mouth, and his eyes twinkled.

  “Um, great. Yeah.” Sandy flushed as his dick tried mightily to come back to life. “Oh. Here.” He offered Dare his bunched-up underwear.

  Dare guffawed. “Ain’t you sweet? Should I put ’em under my pillow? Throw ’em in the laundry basket.” He pointed it out.

  “Sorry.” Sandy laughed and made as if to throw them at Dare’s head before lobbing them at the basket and missing. “Aw, shoot.” He walked over to retrieve them, and as he bent down he felt Dare pinch his butt. “Whoa!”

  Dare made a show of looking around with wide innocent eyes.

  “Huh? What?”

  “Put that cigarette out, because you’re going down, my friend.”

  “Oh yeah?” With a grin, Dare stubbed out his cigarette and put up his fists. “You wanna piece of me?”

  Sandy tackled him, and they crashed to the floor in a playful wrestling match. The contact of skin on skin got Sandy hard again, and one thing might have led to another, but the sound of a door slamming made Dare pause. “Oh, shit. Wallace is home.”

  “Okay. You got out of that one.”

  “Sure. Hey, you wanna meet me after work Wednesday? I need to take you to that other thrift shop I was telling you about.”

  Happiness bubbled up. “Yep.”

  Present Day

  The train’s whistle brought Sandy back to the present. Then Uncle Phinney said something to him, and he took out his earbuds to hear.

  “We’re going to sign up for dinner in the dining car. We’re thinking the 7:30 seating.”

  “Fine with me.” He settled back and watched large expanses of trees flash by.

  He didn’t want to think about the rest of the Dare saga. How he’d totally fallen for him, how they’d had a great time for a few months before Dare had one day disappea
red as completely as if he’d dropped off the planet.

  No texts, no phone calls, nothing. When Sandy had stopped by Wallace’s place, there was a For Rent sign. Sandy had gone to the skatepark and asked around; at least his fears that Dare had been murdered or kidnapped were allayed when Zeb, one of Dare’s skater buds, told him Dare had mentioned having to leave town.

  Why hadn’t Dare said anything to him? Why had he up and left Portland? Left Sandy? Yes, Dare and he were pretty different. Dare smoked and did drugs, and Sandy hadn’t felt comfortable around a few of his friends at the skatepark, because they were older and a lot more hard-core about drugs. Some of them were even sex workers. Dare told him he’d tried it (sex work) for a few weeks and decided living with Wallace and fending for himself was way preferable to that.

  It hurt that Dare hadn’t trusted him with what was actually going on.

  Sandy would have understood, or at least tried to. Dare always acted so alone in the world. He’d come with Sandy to several of the concerts that Cody’s band, Da Beat, had given, and he and Sandy had watched Fourth of July fireworks with Phinney, Cody, and a bunch of their friends. But hanging around with adults clearly wasn’t Dare’s thing, so he and Sandy had mostly hung out by themselves in Dare’s room, playing his vinyl as Dare educated him on vintage artists, smoking pot, which Sandy had finally kind of succumbed to—and he had to admit it did make sex pretty awesome— and talking.

  They’d thought about hiking the Pacific Crest Trail together. They’d read the book Wild, seen the movie, even gone to REI to check out equipment.

  It had sounded like such a great adventure. Then Dare had said one day he wasn’t doing it. And then four months ago, in early August, he’d split.

  “Ready?” Uncle Phineas stood over him. He’d put on a suit jacket over his sweater. When Sandy raised his eyebrows, Phinney held out his arms and struck a pose. “You like? Cody says I look like Cary Grant in the train scene in North by Northwest.”

  “Um, I’ll take your word for it.” He hauled himself to his feet and followed Phineas to the dining car.

  After dinner, Sandy hung out with Phinney and Cody, then took his book to his small sleeper cabin and stayed up reading while the train made its way to Spokane. There it would meet the train from Seattle, and by some railroad magic, the two would become one train heading for Chicago. The book was the Robertson Davies one that Dare had recommended, and Sandy soon became so absorbed he barely noticed when the train came to a stop in Spokane. As announcements were made and various clangs sounded, Sandy glanced at the time and yawned. It was 12:30 a.m. After they hooked up with the Seattle train, they’d be journeying for another day and night, finally getting into Chicago in the late afternoon of the day after that. Good thing he loved trains. He settled in to read some more, until his eyelids got heavy and he turned off the light.

  Chapter Three

  Sandy followed Cody and Phinney down the aisle and into the dining car for breakfast. They were being escorted to their table when someone called, “Sandy? What the ever-loving fuck?”

  Sandy whirled around. “Jade?”

  Jade jumped up from a table. He looked amazing—like a very pretty gender-fluid goth knight. Clad in an all-black ensemble, with his jet-black hair sporting bright pink streaks, he wore the requisite eyeliner that made his dark eyes pop, and his nails sparkled with gold polish. Sandy drank him in—how could he have forgotten how gorgeous Jade was? So fierce and fabulous. Oops—and also mad as hell.

  “Oh my God! Sandy Nixon! I am so pissed at you! You just disappeared, like, poof!”

  “Jade, wow! What’re you doing on this train?” What a stupid thing to say. Seeing Jade again had him in a muddle—happiness and desire battled with guilt and confusion.

  “What am I…? The same thing you are, obviously. Going back to Rockford for Thanksgiving. But the point is, where did you disappear to? Why didn’t you—oh, hello.” Jade nodded over Sandy’s head. “I’m Jade Byrne.”

  Sandy felt a hand on his shoulder. Uncle Phinney said, “Hi there. I’m Phineas MacDonald, Sandy’s uncle, and this is my partner, Cody Bellstrom.”

  Cody’s easygoing voice followed. “Hey there. Nice to meet you, Jade. Why don’t we all grab a table together so we’re not clogging up the aisle?”

  “How come I didn’t see you in Seattle?” Jade demanded after they were seated. “Were you on the Portland train?”

  “Yeah. I live in Portland now with Uncle Phinney.”

  “You do? But we’re so close! I can’t believe this! Have you been in Portland all this time?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jade huffed, and Sandy braced himself for a tirade. He was glad when Cody spoke up instead.

  “What are you doing in Seattle?”

  “Going to a performing arts school, majoring in musical theater. I love it.”

  “He’s really good too,” Sandy blurted. “He was the star of St. Ignatius High.”

  Jade nodded with only a tinge of modesty. “What can I say? When you’ve got it, you’ve got it.” Then he frowned. “That was sweet to say, and it almost makes up for you leaving with no warning.”

  Before Sandy could think of a reply, Uncle Phinney leaned forward. “I love the performing arts. I’m a drag queen, and Cody here is a great guitarist and all-around musician, so we feel you.”

  “A drag queen?” Jade clasped his hands together with a look of sheer delight.

  “And an amazing one,” Cody drawled, while Phinney blushed. “You’ll have to see him if you ever come to Portland. A Phanny Hill performance is not to be missed.”

  “Phanny Hill? Oh my God, that’s fantastic!” Jade turned dancing eyes to Sandy. “Sandy, you have such cool relatives! I would’ve never guessed…I mean, given your parents.”

  “Yeah. I lucked out with Uncle Phinney.”

  Phinney’s face got even pinker. “Aw, Sand-Man. I’m so happy you came to live with me. I feel like the lucky one.”

  Sandy squirmed under his praise, and Cody defused his embarrassment by jumping in. “Hey, what about me? I’m the luckiest one in the bunch!”

  Sandy turned to Jade. “Cody came out West to be in a funk band. He and I were on the same train when I ran away, and that’s how everyone met.”

  Jade’s eyes grew round. “No! That’s so epic! So when you ran away, you met the very guy who Fate had destined for your uncle to be with.” He sighed as the rest of them laughed.

  “Sounds like you’re a romantic, Jade.” Uncle Phinney placed his hand over Cody’s. “But you’re right. It is epic. I call Cody my miracle.”

  “I love it!” Jade gave a wistful smile when Cody and Phinney kissed.

  Sandy clapped a hand over his face. “Jeez, I’m surrounded by romantics.”

  “Oh, stop,” Uncle Phinney said. “You’re a romantic too. You—” He cut himself off, casting a glance at Jade.

  Cody leaned forward. “Tell us about your studies, Jade.”

  As Jade chattered away with Cody and Phinney, Sandy kept stealing glances at him. He was so charismatic and striking, waving his gold-tipped fingers around to emphasize a point. Dare was charismatic in his own way, Sandy reminded himself, but no one held a candle to Jade and the way he sparkled. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed the Jade Show, as he and his high school friends had named the phenomenon that was Jade.

  Cody got Jade talking about his theater work, and he riveted them with his reenactments. He even broke into song a few times. As he gazed at Jade’s smiling mouth, Sandy found himself remembering their one searing sexual encounter. God. Even nine months later, the memory of their hookup in the dressing room was as vivid as ever. Jade caught him staring a few times and raised one well-groomed eyebrow, but other than some meaningful glances, Jade all but ignored him through the meal while entertaining Cody and Phinney, who clearly thought he was the cat’s meow.

  “Where are you on the train?” Uncle Phinney asked Jade after taking his last sip of coffee and throwing his napkin on the ta
ble.

  “In Car 6. It’s the upper level in coach. I couldn’t afford one of the cabins, or whatever you call them.”

  “Oh, you should stay with us. We have two cabins, and I’m sure Sandy won’t mind, will you?”

  Sandy shifted in his seat. Uncle Phinney, who had money to burn, had reserved two deluxe sleeper cabins—one for him and Cody, and a smaller one for Sandy—so he and Cody had privacy to fuck like bunnies, or whatever it was they did that kept Uncle Phinney so flushed and happy.

  “No, I don’t mind.”

  For the first time, Jade looked somewhat shy. “Really?”

  “Unless you’re still mad at me.”

  Jade frowned at Sandy. “I am.”

  “Give me a chance to explain.”

  Jade’s face cleared, and he gave Sandy a dazzling grin. “You got it, pumpkin.”

  Pumpkin? As he and Jade followed Cody and Phinney out of the dining car, Sandy found himself anticipating being alone with Jade and telling him the whole story.

  Chapter Four

  “Sweet setup.” Jade made a 360-degree turn, giving Sandy a view of his mighty fine ass in his tight black pants, and Sandy told his dick, which had been clamoring all through breakfast, to shut up.

  “Yeah.” Sandy sat down on the little couch while Jade inspected the tiny cabin. He was beginning to wonder if Jade was stalling when Jade finally flung himself on the couch and fixed him with those eyeliner- rimmed eyes.

  “Well?”

  “Uh, well… yeah.”

  Jade snorted. “Come on, sweetums. I need the whole story.”

  “Mom and Dad found out I was having sex, and they freaked.”

  Jade turned a shade paler. “They found out… about us?”

  “No, not exactly. They found e-mails from Brittany and figured it out from that.”

  “Ohhh. Brittany, huh? You were doing it with her?” At Sandy’s nod, Jade pursed his lips, then said, “That ho.”