“Welcome home.” Heather called when Lance walked into the house. Lance was supposed to call her ‘mother’, but he couldn’t, because she wasn’t. Heather was his adoptive mother. Lance had been ten when she and her husband adopted him, and he still had memories of his real mother, so he didn’t want another.
Lance stepped into the kitchen and saw her rolling something out on the counter. “Do we have any ice?” He asked, walking to the freezer and opening it. The only things inside were a bag of peas and a tub of ice cream.
“Sorry, dear.” Heather said, not looking up from what she was making. “Ralph used the last of it in his scotch when he got home.”
What time was that? Lance thought, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the peas. After school he had been practicing his pitching in the park and his shoulder was sore. With the peas on his shoulder, he left the kitchen, on his way to his room.
But it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“Hey!” Ralph, Heather’s husband, was sitting in his chair in the living room. He had an almost empty glass in his hand. With a smirk on his face, he nodded at the bag of peas. “That your after school snack?” He asked with a laugh.
Lance gritted his teeth and shifted the bag on his shoulder. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Ralph, but they didn’t really have anything in common. And when Ralph did things like drink in the afternoon, it made Lance question if it was even worth attempting to get along. Today, he really didn’t feel like attempting it.
“What have you been doing for the past hour?” Ralph asked, using a challenging tone. “I know when school ends. Were you with that girl? What’s her name again?”
“Nicole.” Lance mumbled. He turned away from Ralph and started toward the stairs. “And no, I wasn’t with her. I was practicing.”
Ralph said something, but Lance wasn’t listening. He pointedly walked away and climbed the stairs. Once he got to his room, he closed the door and tossed his backpack on the floor beside his desk. Then he shifted the peas once again and went to sit on the bed.
Wait. Lance changed his mind, instead going to the window. It had been an oddly hot day for September, and his room felt like a stuffy oven. He gripped the bottom of the window and, wincing from his shoulder, pulled the glass up. A slight breeze came in and the smell of the fresh air was relaxing.
Then something caught his attention and he narrowed his eyes a little, trying to confirm what he was seeing. Through the window across from his own, he could see someone moving around. At first he thought something was wrong, because whoever he was seeing was moving in an odd way. But as he watched, that person suddenly jumped toward the window and did some kind of movement while in the air.
But the room was small and they crashed into the window. Lance watched, worried, as the person got up from the floor and rubbed the back of their head. Then they looked out the window and saw Lance watching.
Lance was surprised. It was Fletcher. He looked small somehow, standing there in a tank top and shorts. Lance didn’t know what he had been doing, but whatever it was, Fletcher was now out of breath. His appearance caught Lance by surprise.
All of a sudden, Fletcher ran from the window. Lance stood there, still trying to figure out what he had just seen. That guy is really strange. He finally decided, turning away and collapsing onto his bed.
* * *
“How are you feeling?” Nicole whispered in his ear. She was standing behind him while he sat on the couch, giving him a massage.
Lance turned his head and tried to look at her. All he managed to get was a glimpse of her hand retreating. Then she was in front of him, leaning over him and pinning him to the back of the couch.
“You’re so tense. You need to relax.” She reached forward and picked up his hand. “Just let me take care of you.”
Lance didn’t know what she was talking about until she started to move his hand toward her chest. He suddenly felt his face growing hot and he closed his eyes and looked away. Even though they had been dating since the previous year, they hadn’t yet done anything beyond a kiss. Now that it was happening, he wasn’t sure what to think.
Then his hand connected with her body. Through her shirt, he could feel her chest, but it wasn’t like he had expected. It was flat. Confused, he opened his eyes and turned to look.
It wasn’t Nicole in front of him. It was Fletcher, sitting there in his tank top and shorts.
Lance stared at him, not sure what was going on. Suddenly, Fletcher leaned in closer and their lips met, making Lance’s heart jump. He sat there, letting Fletcher kiss him and feeling the smaller boy’s heart beating in his chest.
* * *
“Wha!” Lance gasped, sitting up quickly. He had fallen asleep, still with the bag of peas at his shoulder. His dream had surprised him, and he didn’t know what to think about it. He wasn’t gay, so why was he dreaming about kissing another boy?
There was a knock at his door and he looked up to see Heather enter. “Hey.” She said with a smile. “I’m going over to greet our new neighbours. Do you want to come? I think they’ve got a boy a little younger than you.”
Lance shook his head. “I’ve already met them.” He mumbled.
Comments (0)
See all