I was so fed up, in fact, that I spent the entire night writing out a list of items I wanted to make different. On top of that list was changing my college plan, well,my father’s college plan, for me. Just a month ago, I felt like earning a scholarship into some architectural program would be impossible. But in the blink of an eye, and a lot of studying Quinn and how carefree and happy he was in his life, I had a new motivation and determination to do just that.
I was so lost to the task that it was well past two in the morning when I passed out at the computerresearching college programs. Sure I’d be exhausted at school the next morning, but it was offset by the energized hopefulness rushing through my veins.
If my life was going to change, I was going to be the one to change it. And for the first time ever, that thought was more exciting than daunting.
By the time I knocked on Quinn’s door Sunday afternoon, I was ready to work. More importantly, I was ready to put whatever attraction I thought I had to him on the backburner. I needed this class. I needed this project. I needed to get out of this shithole of a town and away from my family, so I could finally become my own person. And the only thing that was going to let me do that was my talent.
“Hey,” Quinn greeted after opening the door. “Come on in.”
And just like that, two steps into his world and I was already wondering how I’d make it through the afternoon alone with him. If I had any question about how much I wanted him before, it was all answered as I stood before him, taking in his tall, muscular frame. He made cargo shorts and a T-shirt look like a work of art. Even thoughbeing more confident was toward the top of my self-improvement list, he stole my ability to speak, making me look like a fool.
“Hi,” I managed to spit out after he closed the door and turned back toward me. “Thanks for having me over.” Mostly because it was his house, but more so because I wanted to watch his long legs work with ease, I waited for him to lead the way before I took another step.His mom greeted me from the kitchen. “It’s so nice to see you again, Ryan.” She smiled and I immediately felt at ease. “You’re staying for dinner, right? It’s chicken parm night.”
“Of course, Mrs. Jacobs,” I answered and she shot me a look. “I mean Annie. I’d love to have dinner. Thank you for inviting me.” The forced formality was a palpable force, but I wanted to make it seem as if I was theperfect kid. Any chink in my armor would surely reveal to her—and to Quinn—what an epic fuckup I was.
“Can we get to work now, Mom?” he snickered, pulling me toward the garage door.
“Sure, sure,” Annie dismissed as if she wasn’t embarrassing her son at all. “You boys have fun.”
Quinn simply rolled his eyes and apologized for his crazy mom.
It was a sharp reminder that what some people foundcrazy was the exact thing some people craved with all their heart.
He already had the garage set up with the tools we’d need to get started on everything. “I thought maybe you could try your hand at welding a little.”
“God, no,” I protested. “I suck at it.”
A flicker of something came to life in his blue eyes. “Well, you’re not going to get any better bynotpracticing.” He laughed as he walkedover to the table where his torch and mask were set up. It was impossible to pull my eyes away from his legs as he squatted to pull an extra mask out from under the table. “Here,” he said as he handed it to me. The spark I felt at our skin touching was far hotter than the spark that would come from the torch.
There were some scrap pieces of metal set up and before I could protest once more, Iremembered the pledge I’d made to myself last night.If you’re going to get out of here, learning some new shit just might help that cause.
“Okay, so what do I do?” Even the sound of my own voice announced my uncertainty.
“Just watch,” he answered, as he dropped his mask over his face and lit the torch. With an ease I could only hope to possess one day, Quinn moved the flame over the two piecesof metal. When he was done, he lifted his mask and we both looked down what he’d just done. “Easy as pie.”
I laughed at his explanation. “Sure, easy for you to say. You actually know what you’re doing.” I leaned in to take a closer look at what he’d just done. It seemed simple enough. Just like drawing a line with fire. What could go wrong? My hands shook when he handed me the torch. I certainlydidn’t want to make a fool out of myself, but more than that, I didn’t want to let Quinn down.
Remembering exactly what he’d just done, I followed all the same steps. Dropped my mask. Lit the torch. Made a pass over the pieces of metal, trying my best to keep my hands steady and the line straight.
And I failed miserably.
Of course Quinn noticed. “You suck, dude.” He laughed and then clappeda hand on my back. “Here, let me show you.” I moved to hand him back the torch and he surprised me by pushing it back into my hands. “Nope. Still your turn,” he said as he moved closer still.
A lump of nervous anxiety formed in my throat. If keeping my hands steady while Quinn was a solid three feet away from me was impossible, there was no way on this planet I’d be able to do anything with himthis close. He wrapped his hand around mine where it was holding the torch. “Hold steady,” he told me before he dropped the cover on his mask.
But when his leg brushed up against mine, skin on skin, my entire world went off kilter. “Slow,” he spoke above the sounds of the task at hand. My other hand, the one holding the metal, shook as if all the nervous energy running through my body neededsome kind of outlet. He moved behind me, wrapping his body around mine so that he could hold my shaking arm. My lungs burned because I simply couldn’t breathe. His presence, his body, his scent, his touch… they were all too much to take. In a state of sensory overload, I almost lost the tether on my control that I thought I had. And just when I was about to give into my burning need for him and turnaround in the circle of his arms, the torch went out and he stepped away.
“See?” he said as he lifted his mask. “Much better. You just need a little practice.”
The amount of energy it took for me to work past the emotions moving in my head was monumental. “Sure,” I managed to say back. After a deep breath, I found another ounce of my composure. “Oh, I have some ideas for the table top.” Thatwould be the perfect distraction.
So when he said, “Awesome. Let’s get started,” I knew I’d be okay.
And we were for the rest of the afternoon. Everything was perfect actually. He played some Metallica and then some indie rock band he liked. We talked, laughed, and shared some ideas. It was by far the most normal afternoon I’d had recently.
“Wanna call it a day?” Quinn wiped his hands on arag before dropping it onto the work table. “I’m beat.”
Sweat dripped from his brow. When he grabbed the hem of his shirt and moved it up to swipe it across his face, my mouth went dry. Surely, I was stuck on the set of a porno and my real-life fantasy from just last night was playing out right in front of me.
“Me too,” I agreed. My voice came out all dry and raspy, both from the heat and fromthe need. But if I were being honest, it was because I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the exposed skin on his tight stomach, or from his lips as he drank the last of his bottle of water.
He heard the need in my voice and before I could explain it away as a tickle in my throat, he was off to get some more water from the kitchen, leaving me alone in the garage.
Looking at what we’d accomplishedfor the day—we both finished our individual projects for the current unit and made a good bit of headway on our group project—I was beyond happy.
Flopping down onto a chair, I let that foreign feeling of satisfaction wash over me. I basked in it, let it soak down into my bones, pull at my lips until I was smiling like a fool for what looked like no reason at all.
Expect it was for the best reasonpossible, even if only I knew it for now.
