Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Missing a part of me - 3. Chapter 3
Getting sorted
I waited for Sam to find his things for the night. Needless to say it was a boring five minutes. I flopped on my bed humming while Sam rummaged through his bags. I glanced at his butt a few times without being obvious, I hoped. It was going to be hard holding back my true feelings. Just looking at the way his shirt hung onto his body and his jeans dipped just low enough to see his boxers… It was enough to make anyone go crazy. Oh gosh I have to stop thinking like this.
“Would you hurry up?” I threw a pillow at his head. My aim was terrible. I barely hit his head. I was about to throw another pillow to prove that I could hit him harder but I saw how concentrated Sam was.
“I can’t find my…” He stared me dead in the eye and I could tell he was deep in thought trying to figure out where he had put whatever it was he couldn’t find. The pillow had ruffled his long straight brown hair. It made him look even cuter. I smiled trying not to laugh at him. I knew he was really upset about not finding the… whatever.
“You’re what? Maybe if you tell me I can help you look.” I jumped off the bed and sat beside Sam who was now dumping his book bag onto the floor. I’m not one to complain but he was seriously making a mess.
“I hope I didn’t leave it. I really hope I didn’t lose it!” Sam was now frantically scanning the floor. Sam can be a little tightly strung, if you know what I mean. He has to have things a certain way. Even when we played games as kids he made up rules to everything. One time he made up rules to how we were going to read comic books together. I drew the line there. Right now I could see twelve year old Sam in front of me rummaging through his bag. It gave me a chill. Like seeing a familiar ghost.
“Relax Sam, I’m sure you didn’t forget it or lose it.” I grabbed Sam’s hand and made him look at me. He seemed a little lost. “It’s ok.” I spoke again softly.
“I just wanted to show you but it’s not here.” The sadness in Sam’s voice killed me. He also had me intrigued. What was so important that made Sam this crazy? I didn’t want to add to the problem so I just dropped it.
“Show me later. I can wait. It’s not like you’re going anywhere for a while.” I smiled at Sam. His expression changed for a moment. It confused me. I don’t know if he was happy or sad. He almost looked like he was about to say something but as quickly as he had shot me the look he changed his expression again.
“Sure, I’ll show you later.” His eyes shifted to my bed as he jumped on it and stretched out. We relaxed in the room for a long time waiting on the food to get ready. To tell the truth I wasn’t hungry at all.
“Hey Blake?” Sam shifted on the bed to face me. We fit in my bed snugly, and when I say snug I mean almost on top of each other. I liked being that close to Sam. It made me feel safe. I gave Sam a questioning look. “Am I sleeping on the floor or are we sleeping like this?” Sam’s question hit me in a weird way. At first it was funny and then I realized I had never thought about it. That’s when it struck me. Sam was ok with sleeping in my bed with me. suddenly, I needed a cold shower.
“I can sleep on the floor Sam. Or we can crash on the couches downstairs. It’s up to you.” I exaggerated a stretch to show I was easy going about whatever he was going to answer. Every part of me wanted him to spend the night in bed with me. Even if it weren't romantic at least I could snuggle up to him... In a very heterosexual way that is.
“Do you kick like you used to?” Sam peered at me with a questioning face. I couldn't help but laugh. Once, I had accidentally kicked Sam in the nose when we were twelve at a sleep over. I woke up with blood on my leg and Sam was crying. I freaked out because I thought he was crying because I was bleeding. That's when I realized it was his blood on my leg. I felt terrible. It wasn’t funny then but it sure was funny now though.
“Shut up Blake. I don’t want a repeat of 6th grade. You’re an ass. You know that?” Sam was trying to keep his calm, I could tell. I knew he wanted to laugh too. “We can just sleep in here tonight. Your couch is uncomfortable.” Sam sat up in the bed and smacked my chest as hard as he could.
“What the hell?” My voice was louder than I intended. I jumped up and pinned Sam to the bed. “What was that for you jerk?” Sam wrestled against me but I had too much leverage. I finally pinned his arms down and he gave up. I glared at him trying to be as serious as I could seem. Sam was suffering from a fit of laughter and it took everything I had not to laugh myself.
“I’m sorry!!! I’m sorry!!” Sam yelled as I tightened my grip on his arms. I loosened my grip enough to let him feel more comfortable. Sam’s laughing turned into heavy breathing and it dawned on me that my face was only inches from his.
“That’s what I thought.” I said breaking the tension. For a minuet I almost forgot myself and thought about kissing Sam. As soon as the thought came through my mind I jumped off of the bed and smacked Sam’s chest when I landed on my feet. I hit him harder then I wanted. It served him right. He hit me first.
“I hate you so much!” Sam groaned through clenched teeth. I knew he wasn’t serious. The words still stung. I was worried that maybe I had really hurt him. After a moment of looking him over I knew he was ok.
“Are we even?” I sat beside Sam and held my hand out for a truce and shake. He slowly reached his hand out to accept. As soon as it had begun the violence was over. At least until the next time Sam acted on an impulse. I hated Being hit for no reason. Sam knew that and he did it just to annoy me.
Suddenly, my Mom started hollering down stairs. I quickly got to the kitchen to ask her what the problem was. As I walked into the kitchen the smell of smoke filled my lungs. Yet another meal burned by my mother’s new stove. Either she was losing her touch or that stove really sucked.
“Boys, get ready. We’re going out to eat.” My mom looked to me as Sam poked his head through the door way. I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw my mom standing in front of her burnt meal sweating. The kitchen looked like a bomb blew up.
“Laugh now kid cause you’re going to clean this up when we get home. I give up.” She threw her casserole dish, food and all, into the sink. I knew she was serious and began to grumble. Sam laughed at me. “Don’t you start laughing either Sam. You’re helping Blake. You’re the reason I even started cooking.” My mom smiled. She breezed past us as we both beheld my mother’s mess.
“We should have just stayed in my room.” I elbowed Sam as I backed away from the kitchen.
“How could one woman make such a huge mess?” Sam asked still staring at the kitchen. To be honest I never was allowed in the kitchen when she cooked. I always imagined my mom as an artist working her way through different plates and utensils to create her masterpiece. She had to be somewhat creative. I heard only creative people could work in big messes and she made the biggest.
“You can keep staring at it or we can get the car started.” I ran down the hall to the front door. My mom was already in her room changing. It would only take her a few minutes to get to the car. In the mean time I wanted to get the radio set up to the station I liked. It was our unspoken rule. The first person in the car picked the station.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re mom kept this mini-van.” Sam slide into the back seat. We had many memories in this van. Trips to the beach and movies, it even brought back memories of Chuck E Cheese. Having Sam back gave me this weird warm feeling inside that I couldn’t quite place yet.
“Of course she did. My Mom likes change as much as she likes listening to my music.” I blared the music in the car as an example. My mom flew into the garage and gave me a stern look as she approached the car. “Watch.” I lipped to Sam.
“Blake! If you don’t turn down that music right now I’ll change the station.” My mother shut the door and glared at me. I reached over and turned the radio low. I wanted to talk any way. I knew my Mom would want to hear all the new gossip.
“How are you feeling Sam?” My mom was in the driver’s seat eyeballing Sam through the rear view mirror. “You’re not tired are you?”
“I am a little but I’m mostly hungry.” Sam clutched his stomach to add effect. It was cute but he was only making me look bad for not feeding him enough food. I knew how my mother thought and her brain was going a million miles an hour.
“Well, we’re going to Gridlato’s Pizzeria and it’s all you can eat pizza night. You can eat all you want.” She smiled at Sam through the rear view mirror. I loved my mom. She was the most considerate person I knew. I also knew that she felt like she had gotten a son back. The night my mom was able to talk to me about Sam coming it’s all she could talk about. She even talked about having him move in while we went to school. I told her it probably wouldn’t happen and it was like I killed her inner child.
“I am so ready to get my grub on.” Sam pulled his seat belt off and leaned in toward the front seats. It was the three of us now. I looked to my mom who was beaming. Sam and mom talked the whole car ride. I quietly watched how naturally they spoke to each other. We all picked up where we last left off. It’s like we never skipped a beat.
Maybe I would tell Sam how I really felt one day. Even if he didn't feel the same way. I don’t think it would come between us. If five years of being apart hadn't fazed us than what would coming out to him do? I couldn’t imagine Sam hating me for that. Still I Think I will wait a while before I drop that bomb on him. At least I would get to sleep in the same bed with him once. It’s a selfish thought but I’m only human.
- 6
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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