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.
Timothy - 8. Chapter 8
We stopped at the grocery store where Mrs. Kenner and I shopped. Getting a cart, we started to shop. Dry cereal, milk, bread, peanut butter, what I didn’t put in, Stephen added. When the cart was full, we checked out. I put everything on my credit card. Loading the car, Stephen asked Randy the directions to his apartment.
As I drove to Randy’s apartment, I would glance at Stephen. I could see the concern on his face. “Stop”
I did. Stephen got out of the car and helped an older man up. As he did this, a police car stopped. Stephen said something to the officer. I watched as the officer helped the older man into his police car. When the policeman drove off, Stephen came back and got into the car.
I didn’t say anything. The look on Stephen’s face was enough, for now. I knew we would talk about this tonight. I could wait.
We drove for about another two blocks when Randy pointed out the building. It was run down, and the neighborhood reminded me of a picture of a slum area I saw in a movie once.
As soon as I stopped the car, Stephen and Randy got out. “Tim, stay here.”
I watched as they took the groceries into the building. I waited an hour before I saw Stephen coming out of the building.
“Tim, drive.”
I headed back to my apartment. Stephen had a look on his face that I had never seen. It was a mixture of anger and hate. We rode back to my apartment in complete silence.
When we arrived at Mrs. Kenner’s, “Tim, go on up to your apartment. I have a phone call to make.”
I wondered who he would call and if it had anything to do with Randy and his mother. I was making a pot of coffee when Stephen entered. “Tim, I need to leave. I’ll come back tonight.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to take care of something. I’ll bring you up to date tonight.” A kiss, and he was gone. I had a feeling it had to do with Randy and his mother.
Stephen returned late at night. He grabbed me and hugged me like I was a lifesaver for a drowning man.
“Come and sit down and tell me all about it.”
“Tim, she was in a soiled bed in one room. Randy had a blanket on the floor. I couldn’t let them live like that. I called my grandfather. He rented a two-bedroom apartment in a nice neighborhood. I hired a nurse to take care of Randy’s mother. I’m moving out of my dorm.”
“Where are you going to stay? In the apartment with Randy and his mother?”
“I was hoping you would share this apartment.”
That was how Stephen and I became more than mates. We became lovers.
- 32
- 17
- 4
- 3
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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