I Will Be Okay by Bill Elenbark

Author:Bill Elenbark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amphorae Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2020-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

OUR AIR CONDITIONER BROKE today, or maybe yesterday, I can’t be sure. I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t dream, and I woke up to the sound of Dad hammering on the back patio, just beneath my window, metal on metal and loud leaden cursing like we’re all supposed to be awake at the crack of eleven. I tried to shower but it didn’t take so I biked around Woodbridge in the thick of humidity—not the best idea, but Dad’s been giving me shit about getting a job and Stick’s restaurant isn’t hiring so I biked over to Best Buy to apply but you gotta be sixteen to work there and I won’t be sixteen until next year. Not that I was dying to sell headphones to freaks with bad musical taste but there aren’t many options for a 15-year-old, other than Burger King, which doesn’t pay as well. At least at Best Buy you have a chance for something over the minimum and people won’t shit on you ‘cause their fries are raw.

And I haven’t seen Stick. We bought tickets for the concert when they went on sale on Wednesday, but we did it separately—from our bedrooms at the same time—and he isn’t texting as much and we’re not hanging out at all and it’s not like it used to be. I kind of can’t wait for this summer to be over so we can get back to normal—Stick and me in school and afterschool and everything that was going to happen between us but hasn’t. I miss him.

Mom’s still on me about having “our talk,” the one about me being gay or about Stick and me in the basement but I keep ignoring, refusing to speak about anything really until I can figure out what happened between us. I jerked off last night thinking about the concert, the two of us after the show in the field between our houses, sweaty and touching, in the dark by the trees past the train. It’s sick, I know it’s sick, but it’s all I can think about. He just texted me to come over.

I’ve been biking like a freak, sweat building then pouring off my forehead to make up the time between the Best Buy and Stick’s house because it’s a far ride all of a sudden, with a single hand to steer my bike through the traffic. I park next to the garage, which is open as usual but empty this time and it’s cooler in the shade of the space so I wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm but my cast is soaked, itching and soaked, and my shirt is a puddle of moisture from my chest to my throat. I should go home and change but I don’t have time to waste. Stick texted me to come over.

The steps from the garage lead straight into the Turners’ kitchen, a massive space that’s twice the size of our entire first floor and I

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.