Page 43 of Punching the V-Card

The frustration behind his stutter told Devon that Carl was feeling something big about leaving Hope behind. They’d been so close all through high school and after. The last few months had been fraught between them, too. He decided to leave them alone for a couple of minutes.

“I’m going to make one last sweep of my room and make sure I didn’t forget anything,” Devon said.

“Sure,” Carl agreed and started toward the house, but Hope held his coat sleeve and Carl stayed behind.

Inside the house, Devon didn’t bother with a final review of his room. He’d spent his holidays after the semester ended doing three things: explaining over and over to his parents why he was moving to L.A. and how he hadn’t lost his mind, packing and re-packing and re-re-packing, and finding time to sneak off to be with Carl—sometimes in the woods to cast spells, or to “cast spells” beneath the rock overhang, and sometimes in Carl’s bedroom to cast an even deeper, longer spell. He was certain he had everything he needed packed into the Taurus.

Instead, he stood by the window, peering out at the driveway as Hope and Carl talked. Hope dashed tears from her cheeks. Carl took her into a hug. They clung to each other, and Hope was the one to let go first.

Devon took a big breath and stepped back outside again. “Nope! I’ve got it all!” he called out.

“Time to go!” Carl said, glancing at his phone. “We’re late already.”

Devon grinned. He knew they were in no real rush. They’d planned their first stop only four hours away, so they could get into a motel room and get their clothes off. They hadn’t been alone for any extended period since their first weekend, and neither thought they could handle an eight-hour drive before coming together. In each other. Bare.

For the first time.

Fuck.

Devon really wanted to get on the road and do just that. They should have just booked a hotel in town or something because he didn’t want to wait.

Though he knew Carl loved to make him suffer.

And it had been Carl’s idea to drive four hours the first day before stopping.

Final hugs were exchanged, and they climbed into Devon’s car.

“Are y-you sure about th-this?” Carl asked from the passenger seat. “L-last chance to b-bail on me.”

Devon took hold of his hand, kissed each knuckle, and started the car. “You couldn’t get rid of me now if you tried.”

Carl put on his seat belt with a smug expression. Waved one last time to Hope, then sighed with deep contentment. “I love you.”

No stutter. No worry in his voice.

“I love you, too.”

As they started down the driveway, the sun was shining and not a cloud was in the sky. Devon remembered two months earlier, driving the opposite way, the rain pouring in sheets, and the Camaro sitting in his garage. The anticipation, the confusion, the revelation, the orgasm, the pleasure, the joy, and, best of all, the fall into sudden, life-changing love.

Punching Carl’s v-card had been the best decision he’d ever made.

THE END