Petrichor

by L. J. Hamlin

  Danny doesn’t want to go home yet, and if Francis isn’t going to kick him out, he’ll make the most of it. He nods, putting his shoes back on before taking his turn climbing into the front again, where he and Francis reclaim their half-drunk beers.

  “So, you didn’t answer. Was it okay?” Francis asks hesitantly.

  “Better than okay. That was…I can’t really explain it. I’m no good with words.” Danny doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this, but he feels different, like something has changed.

  “Good. You think maybe you’d like to do it again sometime?” Francis asks, taking a drink from his beer can.

  “Yeah, I mean yes, if you want to?” Danny’s pretty sure he’s not the only choice Francis has when it comes to guys.

  “I want. Want to hang out for a while before I take you home?” Francis offers. He turns up the radio, then puts his arm across the back of Danny’s seat.

  “I have school tomorrow, but I can stay a little longer.” Danny can’t help smiling as he relaxes into the seat, feeling Francis’s hands creeping forward to stroke the back of his neck.

  They talk a little, sipping their warm beer, and somehow, they end up making out again, until Francis calls a stop to it and says he better take Danny home before they get carried away. His parents will notice he’s not there at some point, probably would call the cops if he missed school. And even though the cops wouldn’t raise much of a fuss for a missing greaser kid, he’d catch hell from his parents when he did show up.

  Francis stops his car right outside Danny’s house, which is fine. People have seen Francis’s car around here before because of Phil. But Danny can’t kiss Francis or anything, not here, and it’s not like he’s a girl being dropped off after a date. There won’t be a brief kiss goodbye.

  “You still don’t have a car, right?” Francis asks casually, even though he knows the answer.

  “I don’t have my licence yet. There’s no point getting it till I can work a job that’ll earn me enough to save up for a car.” Danny shrugs. He’s used to not having a car, having to see all the sosh kids in their shiny mustangs bought by their mommies and daddies.

  “I have something to do in the morning, but how about I give you a ride home tomorrow? It’s a Friday. We could hang out.” Francis offers it like it’s no big deal.

  “I’ll meet you out front, if I don’t get killed by Timmy and his goons.” Danny’s had such a good night, and now he’s crashing back down to the real world with a bump. He wants to be back in lover’s lane, in the safe bubble of Francis’s car, forever.

  “Don’t worry about it, but watch your back. You need to, you fight dirty. They don’t deserve a clean fight, jumping a guy five to one,” Francis growls.

  “Thanks. See you tomorrow.” Danny’s glad he’ll have something to look forward to as well as dreading tomorrow.

  They sit quietly for a few moments, and then Danny makes himself get out of the car. He says goodbye and hurries up the walk to his house, not wanting to hang around in case he gets jumped.

  Morning comes, and Danny eats cereal in the kitchen, while his Dad yells at his Mom about something. It’s not about him, so Danny doesn’t listen. Phil spends most his time at his girl’s house now, so he’s not here today. No one notices the bruising on his face, or the faint marks on his neck.

  Danny goes to school, on edge from the moment he gets close. He doesn’t see Timmy in the parking lot, and he manages to get to his first class unharmed. Timmy probably won’t try anything inside the school building, anyway, so he relaxes a little, but not fully. It’s not till he’s putting things in his locker at the end of the day, when Krissy Jenkins comes over to him.

  “I heard something about you,” Krissy says in a know it all voice. She’s a greaser, but she still thinks she’s better than him.

  Danny freezes at her words, wondering if someone could have seen him in Francis’s car last night, someone who would talk about it.

  “What?” Danny tries to sound like he doesn’t care.

  “I heard Timmy and his boys were after you.” Krissy smiles, and Danny feels a wave of relief that she doesn’t know his secret.

  “Yeah, so what? Everyone knows that,” Danny says, rubbing where his mouth is bruised, even though it hurts.

  “Well, honey, you must have a guardian angel, cos’ it turns out Timmy and his boys were dealing cocaine. Can you believe it? Cops found it in their homes, their cars. Knuckleheads had been running their mouths about it all over town. They’ve been arrested; they’re going to jail.” Krissy says, and she’s just one of those people who loves to gossip.

  Danny tries not to show any of the million thoughts running through his head.

  “Thanks, Krissy. I’ve gotta go. Getting a ride.” Danny closes his locker, makes sure it’s locked, and leaves Krissy behind.

  Danny’s glad Francis is waiting for him in his car, and he slides into the passenger seat.

  “What did you do?” Danny asks before Francis can pull away from the curb. He doesn’t believe in coincidences.

  “What do you mean?” Francis asks.

  “Timmy and his pals got arrested this morning. Did you plant drugs on them?” Danny’s not sure how he’d feel about that. Part of him is thrilled to not be worrying about getting beaten to death, but he feels kind of guilty.

  “No, I just dug around a little and got lucky. Had a word with a cop friend,” Francis says casually.

  “You’re friends with a cop?”

  “Let’s just say I know him. Kind of like I know you, but we’re not buddies as well.” Francis shrugs.

  “You don’t mean you know his brother do you?” Danny raises an eyebrow.

  “Nope.” Francis grins.

  “Hooking up with the fuzz? Yuck.” Danny shakes his head.

  “Shut up. Are you happy?” Francis asks.

  “Yes. You didn’t have to do that,” Danny says softly as Francis pulls away from the sidewalk.

  “We’re friends. I helped you out. No big deal. I kind of like having you around the way you are. Would be a shame if you got hurt, is all,” Francis says, glancing over at Danny as he drives.

  “Thank you.” Danny smiles, reaching out and squeezing Francis’s thigh, where nobody will see the touch.

  “So, where do you want to go?” Francis asks.

  “I was thinking lover’s lane?” Danny suggests. He feels so relieved. He knows this probably won’t be the last time he gets in trouble, but it gets rid of his problem for now, and he’ll take that over a beating, any day.

  “You want to take me parking, Danny? Who’d have thought a nice boy like you would do a thing like that.” Francis grins.

  “I’ll show you what kinds of things a nice boy like me will do as soon as you get to lover’s lane,” Danny says. Feeling bold, he cups Francis through his jeans, making him curse.

  “And you call me a hood.” Francis laughs.

  “Maybe I am a hood, but you like it,” Danny says smugly, feeling excitement rushing through his veins.

  Danny’s pretty sure Francis presses harder on the gas, because they speed up. They’ll be parked in their own little world before the sun has even set.

  Luck of the Irish

  It’s the day before St. Patrick’s Day, which falls on a Friday this year, so some people are already out celebrating and drinking. There’s green everywhere. Jamie is happy enough without a beer in his hand at the moment. Instead, he has a cold soda, and he’s having a picnic in Central Park with his roommate, Hunter.

  They both have Irish relatives, instead of just claiming to, like most people do this time of year. But of the two of them, Hunter is the one who looks like he has Irish blood. He’s tall and broad, with messy red hair, blue eyes, and lots of freckles.

  Some of the people walking by them have cast them curious looks, clearly wondering if they’re a couple. Others have given them hostile looks, clearly deciding they are. Thankfully, most just walk by without paying any attention at all.

/>   Jamie wishes the assumptions were correct, though he’s not in a hurry to get his ass kicked. But they’ve been friends since they were fifteen, ten years now, and currently share an apartment. If he said something about his feelings, and everything went wrong, it would destroy everything. He’d lose his best friend. He’d have to find a new home.

  And he’d have to tell his parents why he never brought a girl home.

  Hunter is out. He’s handsome. He’s perfect. Jamie just isn’t lucky enough to bag a guy like Hunter. He’s used up his share of luck having Hunter as a friend.

  “Hey, space cadet, what’re you thinking about?” Hunter asks, waving his broad palm in front of Jamie’s face.

  “Nothing,” Jamie lies. He’s not going to just blurt out that he’s in love with Hunter, or that he hates how people look at him like he shouldn’t get to be around Hunter. He’s so glad Hunter and his family aren’t racist, despite some of them being quite old-school in the way they think.

  “Tell that to your face, then. You look miles away. I have to get back to work soon. We should enjoy our lunch.” Hunter nudges him in the ribs.

  “Sorry.” Jamie blushes.

  “It’s not a big deal. Want a Nutter Butter?” Hunter offers the package to Jamie.

  “Thanks.” Jamie takes a cookie and bites into it.

  “So, my boss wants to see me at work when I get back,” Hunter says as they eat.

  “You’d better not be late then.”

  “I won’t be.” Hunter smiles. He has a really good smile, warm and friendly. It never fails to make Jamie’s stomach flip.

  They continue talking while they finish up their food, and then Hunter checks his watch and groans. “I’d better go. Do you mind packing up the blanket and getting rid of the trash?” Hunter asks, standing up.

  “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you tonight.” Jamie smiles.

  Hunter waves and heads off. Jamie watches him go, admiring Hunter’s ass, the way his muscles move in the backs of his thighs. Hunter goes running every day, and to the gym three times a week. He’s in good shape, and not afraid to show it off. It’s sweet torture for Jamie, living with him, seeing Hunter walking around in nothing but a pair of briefs.

  Jamie is straightening up when something on the ground catches his eye. It’s a four-leaf clover, quite large, and it appears to be shimmering slightly. Jamie kneels and picks the clover. It goes hot in his hand, glowing bright green. A green glitter-like substance comes shimmering off the leaves and all over his hand.

  And then the four-leaf clover cools, and the green light disappears, not a trace of sparkle left behind. It still seems to glow faintly, though. Jamie wonders if it’s some kind of funky pollen, but he’s never heard of a plant with pollen that looks like glitter, moves on its own, and disappears like magic.

  “Freaky.” Jamie tucks the four-leaf clover into his backpack so he can show Hunter later, see what he thinks about it.

  Jamie leaves the shade of the tree they had eaten lunch under. He finds a bin, gets rid of their trash, and heads out of the park, ready to face his last few hours at work before the weekend starts. He still feels lazy and warm from lying in the park. It’d been a nice afternoon, not too hot or too cold.

  He’s taking his time walking back when, once again, he spots something on the ground. It’s the gold color that catches his eye first, and he reaches out and picks up five gold coins. They’re heavy and don’t dent like chocolate coins. They look real.

  Jamie stops to look at them more closely, to see what markings they have, and sees they’re marked with what looks like a pot or cauldron.

  Should he take them to the police station? That’s what he’s always been told to do with money, but this is like no money he’s ever seen before. They’re not dollars. So maybe the rule here would be more like metal detecting: finders, keepers.

  He puts the coins in his pocket and starts walking again, when he passes a man sitting on the street, begging. He has a small dog in his lap. The dog looks better fed than the man, like maybe the dog gets food first.

  “Hey mister, what’s your name, and the dog’s name?” Jamie asks.

  “Me, I’m Leo, and this is my dog, Shamrock.” The man, Leo, smiles a crooked smile.

  “Get yourself and Shamrock something to eat, okay?” Jamie says, and he passes over three of the five gold coins.

  Leo’s eyes light up.

  “Are you for real, man?” Leo asks.

  “Yeah, I found them. I figure I should share the good luck a little.” Jamie shrugs. He’s no saint. He knows he’s walked past homeless people without helping before, when he was low on funds, but he believes in helping people out when he can. He tries to help, to give people the kindness he’d like to receive.

  “Thank you. Bless you, sir. I’ll be able to get a lot for this. There’s a place you can sell gold near here. I’ll be able to get lots of dog food for Shamrock, maybe even a room for a few days. Thank you.” Leo practically beams, and even though he’s been dealt a really shitty hand in life at the moment, he’s still smiling.

  It makes Jamie feel ridiculous for moping about the fact that a guy he’s never asked out won’t date him. He needs to be more positive, like Leo.

  “Listen, I don’t want to butt into your life, but there’s a shelter a few blocks from here, called A Helping Hand. They take pets too, if you want to stay someplace while you get back on your feet,” Jamie suggests.

  “You’re a kind lad. I’ll look.” Leo smiles again.

  “I’d better be getting back to work, but nice to meet you, Leo.” Jamie waves, wishing he could do more.

  “Have a good Saint Patrick’s Day,” Leo says cheerfully, and Shamrock barks like he’s agreeing.

  Jamie looks at his watch and realizes his conversation with Leo has taken longer than he’d thought. He tries to hurry, but he’s late by the time he gets back to the music shop where he works. He walks through the door, expecting to get yelled at by his boss, Ted, but when he walks in, Ted’s just leaning against the front counter, looking calm.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” Jamie says in a rush.

  “No problem. We haven’t been busy. I wanted to talk to you, though,” Ted says, and despite the fact that he’s smiling and is usually a good guy, Jamie can’t help but worry at those words. Normally, they don’t mean anything good for him.

  “Okay.” Jamie puts down his bag and stands beside Ted.

  “I’ve been looking at your work a lot, and the shop, and I think it’s time I made some changes.” Ted sounds serious.

  “Is there a problem?” Jamie asks, biting his lip. He hopes the gold coins he kept are worth something, so he can make this month’s rent if he gets fired.

  “No, I just think you’re ready for more responsibility. I want to make you manager,” Ted said.

  “For real?” Jamie asks.

  “Yes, you’ve earned it. Do you want the job?” Ted asks.

  “Of course.”

  “You’ll get a pay raise, and a little more time off. But it’s more responsibility,” Ted warns.

  “No, that’s fine. That’s great.” Jamie smiles, aware that some of the other employees around the shop are peering over.

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. We’ll start your training on Monday.” Ted pats him on the shoulder and heads into the back of the shop.

  Jamie grabs his bag and takes his seat behind the counter. He’s having a great afternoon, and it’s hard not to notice that it all started right after he found that weird four-leaf clover.

  He plans to look up four-leaf clovers when he gets the chance, but he gets a lot of customers, and they all buy things, which is great for Jamie because he works on commission as well as having a set wage. The commission is what can really make a difference to his earnings, and it sure as hell will this week.

  And then, an hour before he’s due to finish work, Ted tells him to go home early to celebrate his promotion.

  Jamie isn’t going to argue, and he
heads home. On the way there, he finds six more gold coins and a lost set of keys, which help a woman get back into her car. It really does seem like the four-leaf clover holds some kind of magic, but he’s not sure if Googling “magic” will get him anywhere, other than maybe some cool Harry Potter memes.

  He’s just reached his apartment block when a pizza delivery guy comes over to him, holding a stack of pizzas.

  “Prank call. Boss said to just give the pizzas to someone and head back. No charge. Two meat and one vegetarian,” the guy offers.

  “Really?” Jamie asks, thinking this day really is going his way.

  “Yeah, no use to us now. You want?”

  “Yeah, thanks. That’s great.” Jamie takes the pizzas from the guy, who doesn’t look too annoyed for someone who’s had a prank pulled on him, but then Jamie guesses it’s not his money, but the owner’s, that’s been wasted, and just the delivery guy’s time, but feeling bad for the lost gas money, Jamie gives the delivery guy one of the coins. The guy looks stunned when he feels the heavy weight in his hand and high fives Jamie before he leaves.

  Jamie takes the pizzas up to his and Hunter’s apartment, lets himself in, and puts the pizzas in the kitchen. He leaves them to wait for Hunter and goes over to the couch. He sits down and feels a lump. He sticks his hand down the gap and finds an old-fashioned brown, leather purse. It’s a little drawstring thing, with a cauldron-like pot on it, just like the coins, and it’s almost not a surprise when he opens the heavy purse to find it filled with more gold coins. He can’t wait to tell Hunter about this freakish turn of events. Jamie can easily pay the rent for months with so much gold. He adds the ones he’s found during the day to the bag and puts it on the coffee table.

  Not long after that, Jamie hears the key in the lock, and Hunter lets himself in. He looks slightly disheveled, sweaty, strain showing on his face, around his eyes.

  “I hate my job,” Hunter says, slamming the door behind him.

  “What’s wrong?” Jamie asks. Hunter works in a call center and says the job is killing his soul, so it’s not surprising Hunter had a bad afternoon, but it still sucks. Jamie wants good things for Hunter.