by Jay Bell
Connor was too. They both held their breath as Connor pressed against him, and then he was in, but just a little bit. They locked eyes, Connor’s entire focus on David’s well being. David nodded encouragingly, and Connor slid deeper inside him, just a little more, before he moved back again. Gently, like a sex scene in slow motion, he began to pump his hips. David was in pure ecstasy. He had expected pain, but instead felt only pleasure. Sure, it was a little strange, but this was eclipsed by the realization that they had become one. Connor was inside him, a part of him, and David never wanted it to end.
He grabbed Connor and pulled him near so that their chests were touching, pulled him down more so that he bore his full weight, almost feeling crushed but wanting to be as close as possible. Slowly Connor moved in deeper, picking up the pace when David breathed encouragement into his ear. David played with himself, often having to stop because he felt too close too soon. He wanted to be wrapped in Connor’s arms like this for an eternity. Then the words that had come to mind so often in recent days slipped out.
“I love you.”
Connor pushed himself up enough to search David’s face. David tried to use his expression to show that he meant it, that these weren’t just words of passion. Then Connor was kissing him, his hips slapping against David as they both huffed in pleasure. Connor’s huffs turned to groans, and David knew he didn’t have to hold back anymore. Together they moaned, mouths against each other’s skin, not wanting the sound to leave the room as their bodies shuddered. When Connor carefully pulled out, David was surprised to find the feeling of being connected didn’t fade. Somehow they had worked magic together.
Connor’s weight shifted to the side, but he stayed facing David. His thick fingers stroked David’s face before he leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “I love you, David. I always will. Always.”
He said it with such intensity that David knew they felt the same. The world could split in the middle, all the way down to Hell, and if Connor was trapped on the other side, David would pull the globe together again just to get back to him. Nothing was going to get in their way, and if anything tried, they would destroy those walls together.
Chapter Twelve
The newspaper trembled in the breeze from the window air conditioner unit, as if the thin pages were chilled. If so, the paper was the only thing in the trailer that was cold. Summer was in full effect outside, and despite Connor pulling the curtains closed, the trailer walls seemed to soak up the heat. If it got any hotter, Connor felt he would be cooked like a microwave dinner.
Shaking the paper to straighten it, he tried to find where he left off. A classified ad about driving trucks sounded promising, if a special license wasn't required.
An eight-bit version of “Eye of the Tiger” blared from his cell phone. Connor folded the paper and grabbed the phone, happy the boring job search had been interrupted. Gordon’s name flashed on the display. The night they had broken into McDonald’s, Gordon had insisted they exchange numbers in case they were separated while “running from the law.” Connor had figured it was just an excuse to swap digits, but thus far, Gordon hadn’t taken advantage.
Connor jabbed the green phone icon. “What’s up?”
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Gordon said without ceremony. “A secret. About David.”
He knew Gordon was partial to drama, but still Connor’s stomach grew tight. “Tell me.”
He listened to the secret and the reason why it was kept so, and soon he was smiling. Nothing he couldn’t handle. In fact, he already had a plan he had been toying with for a while.
“Do you have the number of David’s dad? I want to talk to him about this.”
“I can get it,” Gordon said.
Connor was sure he was going to add “for a price,” but when he didn’t they said goodbye and hung up.
Over the next few days, Connor called David’s father and talked with members of his own family as well. He didn’t have much time to prepare, but it was enough. He smiled a lot, which was odd since he was about to lose his Sweet Sixteen. Connor supposed that some things in life were inevitable. Change was one of them, so he quickly made his peace with what was about to happen.
The fifth morning of June, Connor drove to David’s house and let himself in through the window David always kept open for him. The room was empty, which meant that David was either upstairs eating or taking a shower, so he waited on the bed. Ten minutes later, David entered the room, dressed but with his hair dripping wet.
“What are you doing here?” he asked defensively.
“Oh, that’s right,” Connor said. “You can’t see me today. You were vague about why. Too busy doing something. What was it again?”
David swallowed guiltily.
Connor stood and mussed his hair, sending droplets flying, and said with faux sorrow, “Sweet Seventeen just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“Damn it! Who told you?”
Connor laughed and dodged the question. “Who doesn’t like their own birthday? It’s not like you’re turning forty!”
“It’s embarrassing.” David scowled. “There’s all this pressure to feel happy when it’s just another stupid day. Not only that, but I have to go through the whole ordeal twice, first with my dad and then with Mom and Jeff.”
“No you don’t,” Connor said.
“How do you figure?”
Connor nodded toward the closet. “I need you to pack a bag with a week’s worth of clothes.”
David just stared.
“Swimming trunks too. Or do you not want to see the Atlantic Ocean?”
David’s expression turned to wonder. “Are you serious? We’re going on a trip?”
“Yup! I have a sister in Florida, down in Daytona Beach, and she said we can crash there for a couple of weeks. Not exactly a four-star hotel—” He glanced at the magazine pages on David’s wall. “—but I figured you always wanted to travel. This is the best I can do.”
Connor was nearly knocked off his feet when David slammed into him for a hug.
“I already talked to your parents,” Connor said, gasping for breath. “They’re cool with it, so all you need to worry about is what you want to wear.” He gently pried David off. “Of course, I don’t want you to pretend you’re happy just because it’s your birthday, so we can call the whole thing off.”
“Shut up!” David grinned. Then he dove into his closet. Almost an hour later, a duffel bag had been stuffed full of clothes, and they made their way upstairs. Mr. Henry gave David a few presents and some words of caution regarding their trip before they were finally free.
Connor had done his best to spruce up the car, taking it to a car wash and vacuuming it out. In the back seat he had a twelve-pack of Coke and some snacks for their road trip. A new tree-shaped air freshener hung from the rearview mirror. Of course the exterior was still a mix of gunmetal grey and beige house paint, but at least the windows had been scraped clean.
“We’re flying first-class today,” Connor said as he held open the passenger door. “Please note the emergency exits, because it will be a small miracle if this old hunk of junk makes it all the way to Florida without breaking down.”
Once David was seated, Connor hurried around to the driver’s side and hopped in.
“All set?”
“Yeah. What’s this?” David asked, holding up a present wrapped in Power Rangers paper.
“That’s from Gordon.” Connor revved the engine once before pulling away. “He made me swear not to say that he tipped me off about your birthday.”
“Nice.” David chuckled. “I think I can forgive him this time.”
He unwrapped a current road atlas, a number of Post-it notes sticking out of the top.
“Looks like he planned our entire route,” David said as he thumbed through the pages. “Just like him, really—a strategy guide for the real world.”
David flipped the pages of the atlas back and forth as they reached the highway, studyi
ng the route and making little puzzled or surprised noises, depending on what he found. “Man, we get to go through so many states: Illinois, Kentucky, Tennessee.”
He made it sound like an adventure, when really they had a grueling twenty-hour drive ahead of them. They were crossing the state line over into Missouri when David tired of the maps and set the atlas aside.
“Have you travelled much before?” Connor asked.
“Just a few family vacations. The furthest we ever went was to Mount Rushmore, back when my parents were still together. I think I was eight or so. I mostly remember the drive, sitting in the back seat with a pile of comics. Every gas station we hit, I’d beg for another comic book. I remember more about the stories I read than the actual trip.” David toyed with the air freshener, twirling the tree around until the string was tight before releasing it again. “I can’t actually remember seeing Mount Rushmore. There’s this photo of me with the four giant president heads in the background, but I don’t remember being there. Sometimes I wish I could talk to the kid in that photo and tell him to turn around and pay attention.”
Connor nodded. “It’s strange all the things our parents do for us that we don’t remember. When I was a kid, my dad used to drive us out to Branson every year. I had an uncle there who would take us to Silver Dollar City. I’ve probably been a dozen times, and despite all the roller coasters and everything, all I can remember is some weird tree house thing with a room full of lights. Poor guy should have saved his cash.”
“Probably. But maybe it’s all still in our heads somewhere. Like our subconscious knows everything our parents did for us, every trip and bandaged knee, and even though we forgot most of it, part of us remembers feeling loved anyway.”
They considered this solemnly before they snorted and laughed. Once in Missouri, the car rumbled over highways at least ten years overdue for repairs. David fiddled with the radio, trying to find a clear station with music he liked. Connor let him play DJ as they flew past countless billboards advertising flea markets, cheap hotels, or gas stations.
The music cranked up, David bounced in his seat like a basketball strapped to a kangaroo. The potential for impressive motion was there, but something was holding him back. When Empire of the Sun’s “We Are the People” came on, he started moving his upper body until Connor looked over. Then he grinned bashfully and stopped.
“You like to dance?” Connor asked when commercials came on and the radio was silenced.
“Love it,” David said, “but only by myself. You know that trite saying about dancing like nobody’s watching? Well, that’s easiest to do when there really is no one around.”
Connor laughed. “You want me to close my eyes?” He did so for the briefest of moments, jiggling the steering wheel as if they were careening out of control.
“Don’t!”
“Then dance for me!”
“Okay, but not on my birthday.” David crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m supposed to get whatever I want today, it’s a rule. If anything, I should be making you dance for me.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll have to shoot at my feet like they do in Westerns. I don’t dance.”
Crossing Missouri took almost four hours. As soon as they skimmed by St. Louis, David sat upright, staring out the window like everything he saw was new. He gave a little cheer when they passed into Illinois, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes.
“Somewhere new,” he said dramatically. “Finally!”
Connor was glad he was excited, especially since Illinois didn’t look so different from Kansas. Just fields, highways, and a lot of sky. He peered at the dashboard gauges. “We need gas.”
They pulled over at a truck stop that boasted everything from showers to a chapel. Connor pumped the gas—wondering if lovestruck truckers ever tied the knot here—while David ran to the minimart for food. When he returned, he was carrying two trays of nachos.
“Look! I cooked!” David’s smile slipped when he saw the total on the gas meter. “I can pay,” he said quickly, but Connor had already swiped his debit card.
“You’re getting cheese on your shoes,” Connor said to distract him, but this ruse didn’t last long. When they were back on the road, David raised the issue again.
“My dad gave me money. Let me chip in for gas.”
“No need. I robbed a bank before we left.” Connor winked at him. “Seriously though, this is my birthday present to you. I’m paying.”
“But it’s expensive, and that was just one tank.”
“So reward me by not worrying about it.” The truth was, the trip was going to be a huge drain on Connor’s finances. Over the last year he had managed to save up enough for a deposit and two months rent on a place of his own—if he could find one cheap enough. This trip would probably take away at least one of those months, but he would soon make up for it when he found full-time work. “Chin up, birthday boy, and feed your sugar daddy while he drives you to Florida.”
David shoved a chip soggy with cheese into Connor’s mouth.
The sun set as they drove, the highway transformed into a dark sky full of red, orange, and white stars that zoomed by as they travelled down the never-ending road ahead. They were in the middle of Tennessee and edging toward Georgia when Connor started fighting the temptation to rest his eyes. David had already dozed off next to him, but some survival instinct must have caused him to stir at that moment.
“Want me to drive?” he murmured.
“Maybe tomorrow. Let’s get a room.”
If Connor had been on his own, he would have pulled off onto a country road, parked the car, and slept in the backseat. David would probably be up for such an idea, but Connor wanted better for him. Soon he saw a no-name motel advertising a low price and took the next exit.
“You’re old enough to get a hotel room!” David said once Connor had returned from the lobby with a key. “That’s so cool!”
Wow, that didn’t make Connor feel old or like he was dating a kid. “Come on, jail bait. Let’s get you to your room.”
Their energy returned once they were inside the room. Too bad it hadn’t manifested when they were still driving, because Connor would have liked making it a little farther down the road. At least they had covered enough distance that the trip tomorrow would be easy.
“I think my mind is more tired than my body,” Connor commented as he stretched.
“Well, gosh,” David said with bedroom—or in this case—hotel room eyes. “It just so happens I have a cure for that.”
* * * * *
The motel where they stayed wasn’t a bed and breakfast by any stretch of the imagination. There wasn’t even a breakfast buffet, so the next morning they stopped at a local doughnut joint before hitting the road again. Connor let David drive his car for the first time, which for some reason made him more nervous than he expected. Maybe it was because the Chevy was the only thing he owned except for a little cash and half a bedroom of furniture back home.
As he did his best to kick back and watch the scenery zoom by, Connor mused that the car had renewed value. The Chevy was the key to giving David what he wanted most. Connor didn’t have much—no great career plans or promising education—but for now, during this one summer, he could give David his freedom.
“Why can’t it always be like this?” David said, beaming at the world through the windshield.
“What? You mean driving?”
“Not just that. It’s like we’re untouchable when we’re on the road. If you go fast enough, life can’t catch up with you. Nothing can.”
“Except the police,” Connor said, noticing the speedometer. “Ease off the gas a little.”
“Sorry.” David watched the meter sink before continuing his train of thought. “I’m eager to see Florida, but it feels so free out here on the road with you. We’ve got music, snacks in the back, and anything else we need is just a short stop away. It’s perfect. Let’s just keep driving forever.”
“Well, we can make it do
wn to the tip of Florida. Then we’ll splash into the Atlantic, but if we hold our breath long enough, we’ll reach Cuba eventually.”
David laughed. “Sounds good to me!”
Shortly before they reached Athens, Georgia, they pulled over for gas and Connor took the wheel. The city’s traffic was fierce, and there was a lot of street swapping, but they made it through with only a few angry honks and rude gestures. Four more hours of cruising through lush green forests and they left Georgia behind.
Connor wished crossing into Florida meant instant beaches, ocean waves, and Mickey Mouse on a surfboard, but instead the landscape was identical to Georgia. The divisions between states were mostly imaginary, except where rivers created natural lines. Three hours later, in the dwindling daylight, they finally had their first ocean sighting. Connor left I-95 about an hour away from their destination so they could cruise down U.S. 1, which ran as close to the coast as possible. By the time they reached Daytona Beach, the moon was high enough to reflect off white crests rushing toward sandy shores.
“Can we pull over and check it out?” David pleaded.
“We will,” Connor promised. “Let’s get to my sister’s place first.”
Now Gordon’s atlas really came in handy. Connor had helped his sister move to Florida last summer, but she had since moved into a house he had never visited. David squinted at the Post-it note directions from Gordon, guiding them to a sparsely lit neighborhood of old houses.
“I’ve seen photos,” Connor said, ducking his head and peering out the windshield. “I think it’s that one on the corner there. Yeah.”
The two-story house, probably once the gem of the neighborhood, was now dilapidated. The combination of salt in the air, the fierce Florida sun, and one too many hurricanes made it look so worn that even a new roof and fresh coat of paint wouldn’t help much. The driveway they pulled into was more gravel than pavement.
“Wow! Your sister lives here?”
