Page 29 of Something Like Hail

Harold laughed. “I’ve been way grosser aftera date. You will be too. Just you wait!”

Noah didn’t like the sound of that, but hisconcerns were forgotten when strong arms wrapped around him andsqueezed. If he didn’t feel so repulsive, he would have tried hisluck, but now definitely wasn’t the time. He said goodbye and beganthe drive toward Jerusalem. Then he started worrying about the cargetting vandalized and decided to park it at the apartment complexwhere he had pretended to live. That way, if Harold came lookingfor it, the fake story would hold up. He didn’t like maintaining alie. Noah knew he needed to switch genres. No more fiction. Hewanted an apartment and all the normal stuff he pretended to have.Only then could his story and Harold’s become one.

Chapter Five

Most people associated the open road withfreedom. They left the city or suburbs behind, saw empty fields andyawning horizons, and assumed this meant they were no longerrestricted. Noah felt differently. For him, returning to thecountry was a reminder of the oppressive environment of his youth—asmall town where people entertained themselves by watching andcriticizing each other. Sometimes you wanna go where everybodyknows your name, but those who have actually been to such a placerarely want to stay for long. He greatly preferred the anonymity ofcity life where the hectic pace and constant noise made blending ineasy. Few people in Austin cared that he was gay, or homeless, oreven knew he existed. That was freedom!

Despite his love for thecity, it did feel good to get away. Noah did some mentalarithmetic, surprised by the results. Six years now. That’s howlong it had been since his parents had kicked him out. He’d beenhomeless ever since. That didn’t always mean living on the streets,but the situation had never been easy. Even at the beginning, whenhe had stayed with the twins. Not having a home had robbed him of asense of security. Hehadfelt loved though, thanks to one man, and itwasn’t Rico.

Noah drummed his fingers on the steeringwheel as he drove, experiencing a curious mixture of excitement anddread. When he thought of how the relationship had ended, how crazyit had all gotten toward the end, he questioned the wisdom ofmaking this trip. The only thing that kept him going was the verybeginning of their story, which his mind drifted back to as hecontinued driving.

*

Rico wasn’t as bright as his twin brother,but he did possess one talent: He always knew where the partieswere. Noah certainly appreciated this. As a trio of gayseventeen-year-olds, they didn’t have a lot of options. Theycouldn’t go to a bar or dance club. Meeting guys online was toosolitary and usually resulted in disappointment, so the alternativewas to crash any party they could find. Even if it meant hours ofdriving. That was Noah’s job. He had once ferried them all the wayto Houston just to attend a lesbian wedding. They hadn’t knownanyone there, but the guests were too tipsy to notice when a fewbottles of wine went missing, and as usual, Rico had gotten lucky,this time with the best man.

Tonight they were in Austin. Noah had noidea who owned the house, or which of the mingling people was thehost. Normally that wouldn’t bother him, but he was feeling lonelyand conspicuous. Tito had found someone to debate with. The topicwas mass surveillance in the United Kingdom, and terms like“Orwellian” and “Big Brother” were repeatedly bandied about. Noahcouldn’t keep up, so he didn’t. Unfortunately, Rico had alreadyfound some muscle-bound oaf to lust after and was doing his best toseduce him. Noah had once experienced the same treatment and hadloved every second of it. After their one night together, Rico hadno longer been interested because, as he so eloquently put it,“Life is a box of chocolates shaped like dicks, and I want to eatevery single one of them.”

This left Noah standing there on his own,feeling increasingly awkward. And distracted, because his attentionkept returning to the same person. The man was sitting on thecouch, tucked into one corner of it. He wore tight jeans and anavy-blue hoodie that hugged his slim body. As per Noah’s usualweakness, the face is what really drew him in. The man wasbeautiful. Noah wished he possessed the sort of poetry necessary todescribe it because the basic facts were insufficient: pink lips,even features, and bright blue eyes. These things were true, butthe allure went far beyond that. The man was pretty, a wordnormally reserved for women, but here it was perfectly suited. Thisperson was masculine enough to stir Noah’s hormones, but somehow,he was also pretty.

Noah sought excuses to look at the strangerfrom different angles, such as during a trip to the kitchen formore drinks or on the way back again. The man’s hood was up, hidinghis hair. Noah tried imagining all the colors it could be. Red likehis own. Black like Rico or Tito’s. Dirty brown, buzzed, or blond.He liked that last idea best. Golden hair to accompany the rest ofthe beauty that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

He must have stared for the better part ofan hour, but the scene never changed. The man remained alone on thecouch. Once or twice, couples sat next to him briefly before movingon, but no one spoke to him or made a move. Why not? Did he stink?Or were people too intimidated to approach?

“Hey!” Rico said, jostlinginto him. “Can I get the car keys?”

Noah pulled his attention away, noticing themuscular guy who had an arm around Rico’s neck. Mission successful.“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. We just need someprivacy.”

Noah rolled his eyes, dug in his pocket, andpulled out the key ring. “Just don’t get any stains on the fabric,okay?”

“No promises!” Rico said,swiping the keys. Then he disappeared out the front door with hislatest conquest.

Noah looked around, longing forcompanionship of his own.

“Are you devoid of logic?”Tito was snarling at his debate partner. “The only people who haveanything to hide while in public are those committingcrimes!”

Nope. Noah still wasn’t interested injoining that conversation. He looked back at the couch. Wouldsitting on it be such a big deal? It wouldn’t mean anything. That’swhat people did with couches. Maybe he and the guy would strike upa conversation. Maybe not. At least it would get him one stepcloser.

Before he could overthink it, Noah hurriedforward. He exhaled theatrically as he sat, like it felt good totake a load off, and that moving to the couch was an act of purenecessity. An empty seat cushion separated him and the other guy,who definitely didn’t smell bad. Noah’s thrill at being closer wasshort lived, because from here it was difficult to look at the man.Doing so now meant turning his head, making his infatuationpainfully obvious, but he couldn’t help himself. Up close, the guywas even hotter. How was that possible?

The pink lips smirked, a blue iris moving toconsider him. Then the head slowly turned in his direction. Noah’sheart was pounding. The guy had noticed his stare, and stupid himhadn’t looked away in time! Too late now. He felt frozen in placeas the eyes moved over him. Noah was certain that his every flawwas magnified ten times over, that a look of disgust would appearon the pretty face before it turned away from him forever. Instead,once the inspection was completed, the head cocked slightly, as ifasking a question.

“Hey,” Noah managed to say.His voice was raspy, his breath strained.

The beautiful man slid a hand across thecushion, palm rubbing the fabric. It stopped halfway to him andflipped over. An invitation? Noah reached out to take it—certain itwas the bravest thing he had ever done. Their fingers intertwined,electricity or something similar shooting through his arm and intohis body. Then those pink lips tugged upward as the man pulled onhim playfully. Noah scooted closer and didn’t stop, even once onthe next cushion. He kept going, because the other hand wasreaching for his cheek and he was pretty sure—

They kissed. It started soft, but heresponded hungrily, his free hand moving to touch that perfect faceand to slide away the hood. When he pulled back, he saw the goldenlocks he’d been dreaming of, the blue eyes sparkling inamusement.

Noah laughed happily, then he asked, “What’syour name?”

The man considered him, his gazehalf-lidded. “My name’s Ryan, and I’m your new boyfriend.”

* * * * *

Noah slowed as the car entered the citylimits of Gatesville. No doubt the local police were eager to handout traffic tickets and earn some cash. Reducing speed was madeharder by the way his pulse raced. So many memories came floodingback—how they had stayed up all night talking, Ryan proving himselfjust as witty as he was handsome. When the twins were ready toreturn to San Antonio, Noah refused, claiming he was too tired todrive. Ryan had a solution. They pooled their cash and stayed in acheap motel. Ryan was old enough to rent rooms and buy them booze,which led to a party of their own the next night.

Noah hadn’t cared about any of that. Hisfocus narrowed until he could see only one person. He and Ryan tooka shower together and had sex for the first time. Afterwards, stillstanding beneath a hot stream of water, Noah had declared his love.He felt stupid and naïve in retrospect, but the fledgling feelingsreally did turn into love eventually. For them both.