Sparkle Pony by Patrick Mangan

Author:Patrick Mangan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay, gay romance, mm romance, mm contemporary romance, contemporary gay romance, small town gay romance
Publisher: Painted Hearts Publishing

*****

“I’d like to be on record as saying this is a bad idea,” Scott said, standing up and walking over to the fridge, grabbing two beers. He came back over to the dining table and gave one to Jim, leaving me high and dry.

“I agree with Scott on this one,” Jim said. “Doesn’t sound like a good situation. Let it go for a day or two.”

“I’ll be fine guys,” I said in deflection. “I’ve had plenty of tense conversations with parents over the years. This one will be easy. I just want them to know where he is, pick up a few things to get him through the next couple of days, and read the situation out.”

It was later Saturday afternoon, the same day I found Colter in the parking lot of the grocery store. I had this great plan. I would go over to Colter’s house, grab some of his clothes, and tell his parents where he was at. I was sure they were worried sick, since he hadn’t been home for two nights. Surely they must wonder if he was okay?

Besides, I’d already called over to their house, talked briefly to Colter’s mom, told her I was coming over.

“I’ll come with you,” Jim said, standing beside me as I grabbed the keys to the truck off the hook by the door.

“Thank you for the support, stud,” I answered back. “But no. This isn’t a time when we intimidate or gang up on them. I’ll just go get a few things and be on my way back here. I need you all to be here for Colter if he comes downstairs, to support him, make him feel like he is welcome here, and that it’s okay to be gay.”

With that I headed out the door, got into my truck and drove over to Colter’s house.

I should have listened to my friends.

The drive was quick enough. Through town, out the other side, and into the suburbs of Dunforth, by which I mean that scattered weird mix of houses and different sizes of properties that surround some small towns.

I found the house easily enough and pulled up into the drive. I saw Colter’s mom out on the front porch already. See, this was going to be easy. She was already waiting for me.

“Hello Mrs. Foss,” I waved and called out to her as I got out of my truck. “I am Ty, I called a little while ago. I wanted to come by and pick up some of Colter’s things. Is that alright?”

I didn’t get much of an answer from her as I walked toward the porch. I stopped at the bottom step up onto the porch. I waited for some kind of acknowledgment that I had spoken, and that she knew who I was and why I was at her house.

Her reply, if there was going to be one, was interrupted when a truck came barreling balls-to-the-wall down the gravel road toward the house, turned into the driveway, and slammed on the brakes just before it t-boned my truck.

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