by Kira Harp
~ Spencer ~
Mitch was lying on my bed staring out the window, like there might be answers outside the glass. Well, I guess there could have been, but as of right freaking now there was a completely silent street and a lot of sunshine, and he'd been staring at it for half an hour. And I'd been staring at him.
Mitch is worth looking at. He's got this dark hair that drives him crazy 'cause it won't lie right, even with gel. But I love it. And he has these blue eyes that are so dark you'd almost call them black, but they're not. Especially now, with the light reflected in them, so you could see how they have that deep-sea color at the heart of them. And don't get me started on his mouth. Or lower bits.
Best part is, he has no clue. Really no freaking clue. He thinks he's all skinny and ordinary, and says his shoulders are only wider than mine 'cause he plays basketball. He doesn't realize how many girls are watching when he slouches into his seat up front in history class, or leans on his locker shooting the bull with me. The even better part? He doesn't want those girls. He wants me.
But d'you know the bit that sucks dead lemmings? While I want him like I want breath, we both want Adam too, and we've royally screwed it up.
Adam. How to describe Adam? He's tall and blond and so skinny a good wind might just land him in Kansas. He's smart, scary smart, more than Mitch 'n me put together. He's, um, sweet. No, not sweet, but good. The kind of guy who does the right thing, even when it's going to hurt like hell. The one who makes friends with the new kid with the lisp and the booger in his nose. The one who stares at you without any understanding, when you try to explain why it's not a good idea to post his “It Gets Better” video on his own Facebook page. At fourteen. You know. The one life is gonna kick in the balls six thousand times, right until he goes out and discovers the cure for cancer or something.
That Adam.
Mitch and I are ready to beat to death anyone who tries to hurt him now. Only this time it was us, and we didn't freaking mean to.
Mitch said, for the tenth time and without looking at me, “He needs to come back.”
“I know.” I slid my leg over the back of his thighs, to comfort us both, even though I could barely feel the heat of him through two layers of denim. I fumbled for my phone, but there was no new text and no missed calls. I thought about texting Adam again, but if he hadn't answered the first three, one more wasn't likely to do it.
Mitch said, “Dammit.” His voice broke a little toward the end.
I bumped his shoulder with mine. “Remember, it's Adam. If we can just get him to listen, he'll forgive us. You know he will.”
“If. If he doesn't run off and join the military or something.”
I choked a laugh. “Yeah, right. Adam in Basic Training?”
“They've canceled Don't Ask, Don't Tell.” But a little smirk twitched Mitch's lips. “Okay, maybe the Peace Corps.”
“I think you have to be eighteen.”
“We shouldn't have done it. We should've waited to talk to him first.”
“I know.” Hormones, right? Those damned things can fry a guy's brain. You know the biggest irony? We'd just got done hashing it out—how much we both cared about Adam. How this freaky thing we all had going wasn't going away, just getting stronger. How the three of us were virgins, hell, I hadn't even kissed anyone, because any two of us together just never felt right. And none of us could stand to look elsewhere.
It was Mitch who'd turned to me, standing in my front hallway, as we waited for Adam to come over after chess club, and said, “There's no other way. It has to be all three of us, or nothing.”
I'd said, “People will freak. I mean, gay is tough enough. A three-way? Christ, we're going to get our asses handed to us.”
“Worth it,” Mitch growled. “I'm not losing you and I'm not giving up Adam, and I'm not waiting until I'm eighteen for my first freaking kiss.”
“Me neither.” I was limp with relief at finally having it out in the open, and yet fizzing with dawning excitement too. We were finally going to do this thing.
“We'll tell him as soon as he gets here.”
“What if it... freaks him out?”
Mitch frowned. “You think?”
“No.” I didn't, really. “Adam's more out than you or I ever were, and I'm sure he feels the same about us. He almost kissed me at that picnic, you know. And then he looked over to where you were, out on the raft, and he didn't. I'm betting he'll be fine with it.”
“We're both betting.”
“If he isn't, there's still us,” I said, but the sinking in my stomach told me that would always be second best. “Do you have any idea how... you know, how three guys can get together?”
The grin Mitch gave me was wicked. “I've been doing a bunch of research.”
I could feel an answering smile on my face. “Oh, I just bet you did.” I couldn't help it. I put my hand behind his head and pulled him down. That first kiss was, oh my God, it was good. It was fumbling, and his nose bumped mine at first. Then he tilted his head and we just fit. His lips on mine were the best thing I'd ever felt, and he pulled me closer, opened his mouth a little, and... at that moment Adam opened the door.
I really didn't want to think about the look on Adam's face, in that moment. It made me sick. I turned to look out the bedroom window with Mitch, at the place where Adam had disappeared from view, pumping his bike faster than I'd ever seen his skinny legs move in my life. But it was easier to lock my gaze back on the guy next to me on that bed, than to stare at that empty place. “Mitch, tell me he'll come back.”
