A Busted Afternoon

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It's June, 1972, and the Viet Nam war overshadows Ed Sorenson's life. Barely out of high school, and there's nothing ahead of him except war and death. On a whim, he packs up his old station wagon with California in mind. He invites his friend, Sammy, to join him on his journey, never expecting the other man to jump at the chance.

The station wagon barely makes it as far as Nevada. It dies on the shoulder during a freak summer thunder storm, trapping the two young men, and giving them no choice but to face the secrets they've been hiding, the fears they've been harboring, and the desire they can barely keep at bay.

Reviews

This is a wonderful tale of the love that dare not speak its name, or at least not until the two people who share the same attraction are stranded together in a broken down car in a rainstorm. Even then, fight and flight responses have to be conquered before truth can shine forth.--Four Stars from Rainbow Reviews

This solid short tale will connect with some and be too short for others, but is definitely worth reading. The beautiful emotions are easily translated and depict two young men on the verge of the scariest time in their lives, grabbing a hold of the few constants they can. There is an uplifting emotion though and ends on a positive note. Fans of the author especially will adore this short.--3.75 stars from Kassa

Excerpt

"I think we're friends now."

"Well, yeah. But I meant…I could have at least shown more appreciation since you were apparently my guardian angel."

"It wasn't a bad job. Especially after we started high school and you didn't really have a big target sign on your back anymore."

Ed reacted without thought, reaching out to take Sammy's shoulder. He squeezed it lightly, wishing that there could be more contact. Wishing there didn't have to be such a distance between them. They had been closer than Ed had ever imagined, and yet, he knew he couldn't do what he really wanted to do.

"Sammy…"

"I didn't creep you out, did I?"

"No. I mean, that's what everybody wants, right? Somebody who will always have their back."

He wasn't going to move his hand until Sammy made him, but his fingers were starting to tingle from the contact. Sammy's shirt was still damp, but his skin was so warm through the material that it almost felt like he wasn't wearing anything at all. Ed imagined himself leaning forward and inhaling, catching the scent of rain on his skin. His mouth watered to taste the clean, salty tang of his neck.

Lightning slashed across the sky, cutting it in two. Ed hadn't realized how dark it was getting until the flash illuminated Sammy's face, and he saw something in Sammy's eyes that he hadn't noticed before. The boom of thunder shook the car, and sent a new shiver down his spine. He hated thunder. He hated loud noises in general, but this was worse. Being stuck in the middle of the desert in what amounted to an over-sized tin can during the worst rainstorm of his life made the thunder so much worse.

"You shouldn't worry about the thunder. There's not a safer place you can be in a lightning storm."

"I know. I still wish I was in a house. Hell, I'd settle for some little hotel room at this point."

"With a bed?"

Ed swallowed. "Well, most hotel rooms do have beds, right?"

"Something you can stretch out on and watch the rain roll down the window."

"I suppose you could watch the rain here, too."

"We could lay down in the back."

"You could. I don't think we'd both fit in the back seat." Ed said it lightly, like it was too ridiculous to ever take seriously.

"No, I meant all the way in the back. We could probably fit back there."

Ed finally released Sammy's shoulder-it was ridiculous to keep such a tight hold on him-and looked over his shoulder. Sammy was right. They could fit back there. It wouldn't exactly be comfortable because they were both a little too tall, but the back of the station wagon was empty. They could crawl back there and…

And what? Just lay there and pretend that they weren't touching each other in a tiny, cramped space? Watch the water sluicing down the back window and silently follow the patterns? It seemed like a silly way to pass the time. Worse than that, it seemed like a maddening way to pass the time. There would be no avoiding or ignoring Sammy's natural, musky scent. Or just how good his chest looked covered in a damp, thin T-shirt.

"Come on."

Ed didn't even have a chance to protest before Sammy was climbing over his seat like a monkey. He nearly kicked Ed in the head in his excitement.

"Are really serious?"

"Yes. Do you have anything better to do? Besides, we could be stuck here for awhile. We might as well get comfortable."

"I'm comfortable here."

Ed glanced in his rearview mirror in time to see the tight curve of Sammy's ass. It was so nice, it didn't need the wet denim clinging to it, but that certainly helped.

"We might as well get more comfortable."

Ed decided to stop arguing. Partially because he didn't actually have another argument against moving. Partially because there was no point pretending that he didn't want to. Especially since they were probably going to get cold as the storm raged on and the night approached. The fear of being trapped on the side of the road, in the rain, for an entire night momentarily overwhelmed the thrill of being so close to Sammy. If he had been fantasizing about being trapped with Sammy, he'd probably hit on something close to this scenario. But the fantasy and the reality were too far apart, and as he climbed over the back seat, he found himself wishing all the harder for a hotel room.

"There," Sammy announced with satisfaction. "That's better, right?"

Perhaps. For some definition of better. They were both on their sides, facing each other, their knees bent in order to accommodate the narrow space. Over Sammy's shoulder, Ed saw another flash of lightning. From his new angle, he could see the true expanse of the dark, angry clouds stretching across Nevada. Maybe as far as California.