Don't Let Me Go. J.H. Trumble

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“Do you want to play Internet poker or something?” I asked.

      He laughed and deftly pulled his T-shirt over his head. “Uh-uh.” He tossed it to the side.

      I started toward him, but he shook his head and told me to wait. I drew in a ragged breath and held it, keeping my eyes locked on his as he unbuttoned his shorts. “You’re not sneaking peeks in the first grade boys’ bathroom anymore, Nate,” he said gently. “It’s okay to look. No shame. I want you to look at me.”

      I wanted to look. God, I wanted to look, but my eyes were fused to his. When I hesitated, he rolled his eyes playfully and reached into his bedside table drawer and pulled out a sparkly pink mask rimmed in pink fluff, the kind girls wear over their eyes to block out the light when they sleep, although I’d never known anyone to actually wear one. Across the front it read The Princess Is Sleeping.

      “What else did you steal from Mea’s room?” I asked.

      He smiled sheepishly and fished a pair of toy handcuffs from the drawer.

      “Kinky.”

      He dangled them from his finger. Oh, hell yeah. I came closer and took them from him with a trembling hand. He pulled the princess mask over his eyes, then turned and put his wrists together behind his back and waggled his fingers at me. Suddenly I understood what this was all about. I locked the toy cuffs around his wrists. The fit was tight and I had to be careful not to pinch his skin. He turned back. When the rest of his clothes lay in a crumpled pile on top of his T-shirt, I finally allowed myself to take him in, my eyes to linger where they’d never been allowed to linger before, my hands to touch what they’d never been allowed to touch before. And I wanted to tell him thank you ... for this amazing gift, for not mocking me for wanting you so badly, for making it okay to be me.

      The lava was warming up, rising and stretching into elongated blobs, creating colorful shadows that were easing across the ceiling, when Adam said hoarsely, “Nate, get these fucking cuffs off of me. Now!”

      Chapter 13

      “You still have Mea’s handcuffs?” I asked as we headed down the sidewalk to my car.

      He laughed and slung his arm over my shoulders, then looked back at my mom still standing on the front porch and gave her a wave.

      “I see where you get that cute blushing from,” he said, turning back to me.

      “Yeah. Luckily she’s got a strong heart.” I turned back and waved too.

      “Let’s just skip the tattoo,” I said once we were in the car. “Let’s go straight to your house.”

      “No way! You’ve been waiting for this for months. And this is my birthday present to you. We are not skipping it.”

      “God, you’re killing me.” I pulled into the street and cast a glance at him, then sighed heavily. “Tattoo, and then I get my other present.”

      “Absolutely.” He grinned.

      “And tomorrow it’s just you and me. I’ve been thinking maybe we could drive to Galveston. Juliet’s dad has a little pop-up camper we could take. We could sleep on the beach.”

      He was quiet for a moment, then, “Nate—”

      “If you don’t want to sleep on the beach, we could get a room. I’m sure the last weekend before school starts is crazy, but I bet there are still—”

      “Nate—”

      “I don’t care where we stay. We can throw a couple of blankets on the ground. I just want to be with you. Alone. Just me and you.” I turned the fan up on the air conditioner. Why was it so damn hot in the car?

      “Nate—”

      Don’t. The muscles in my chin started to twitch before he even said the words.

      “I have to leave tomorrow.”

      I stared at the road ahead. A Ford F150 with a bumper sticker that read I’ll keep my guns and my religion; you keep the change slid into the lane in front of me. I pressed on the accelerator. “You said you were staying for the whole weekend.”

      “I know. I wanted to. That was my plan. But the director said no. The show opens next weekend, and there’s some event tomorrow afternoon and I have to be there. He didn’t even want me to come down for one day. But I wouldn’t have missed your birthday for anything, baby.”

      “Who cares what he wants.”

      “I’m under contract.” In my peripheral vision I could see his legs tense, his feet braced against the floorboard. “Get off his ass, Nate. You’re gonna kill us.”

      “Asshole,” I muttered and eased up on the accelerator.

      Adam relaxed his legs. “Look, I’m here right now, and I promise you we’re going to make the most of it.”

      I took the corner at Lake Forest way too fast and then asked, “Just how much it do we have to make the most of?”

      He was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “I’m on the eight o’clock flight tomorrow morning.”

      I mentally calculated the time we had left. Too little. Almost nothing at all.

      “Come on, let’s get that tattoo, then we’ll ditch the family, and it’ll be just you and me.”

      “I don’t want it anymore.”

      “Don’t say that. We’ve been planning this for almost five months. I want to do this for you. Please let me do this for you. It won’t take too long, I promise.”

      He was making a lot of promises, but the promise of time, the one thing I really wanted, he couldn’t give me.

      Mea met us at the door an hour or so later wearing an animal nose strapped to her face and blowing a sparkly silver horn. “Happy Birthday, Nate!” She threw her arms out and I picked her up. Her long curly hair tickled my nose as she clung to me like a crab. “I’m a warthog!”

      I smiled. “I can see that.”

      I carried her into the kitchen with my unbandaged arm. I knew the second I saw Adam’s mom in a cat nose that party hats were way too cliché for this family.

      “Elephant or rhiiino?” Adam said, his eyes glinting. The way he emphasized rhino, I knew the choice had already been made for me. I rolled my eyes at him, but he just laughed and strapped the horned snout to my face. He pulled an opened-mouthed shark snout over his own.

      Adam’s mom grinned at me and finished lighting the candles. “Hope you haven’t had too much cake yet,” she said.

      There was only one thing I wanted to put in my mouth at that moment, and it wasn’t cake. “No way,” I said with every ounce of fake cheer I could muster. “It looks great.”

      “Happy Birthday, Nate,” Adam’s stepdad (in a pig nose) said, handing me a present wrapped in sparkly silver paper that matched the horn Mea was still blowing. I looked at the gift in my hands, really moved

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