Jaycee Edward's Blog, page 3

March 1, 2015

Frozen


Frozen

“Where the hell is my scarf?”
Tommy rummaged through their meager pile of winter clothing.
“I just had it yesterday!” He remembered wearing it as he went out dumpster-diving for food.
Shane wordlessly unwrapped his own scarf from around his neck and held it out.
“I don’t want yours, Shane. I want mine - the red one. It’s long and I can wrap it a bunch of times. Maybe I lost it outside somehow.” Tommy stood, careful not to let his head touch the top of the tent. That spelled disaster in the warmer months. Touching the tent when it rained caused water to pour in, so they’d both learned early on not to let that happen. Stooping had become a habit and even outside it was their normal stance, another feeble defense against the cold.
He ducked out and zipped the tent closed behind him; more an effort to keep the cold out than to keep any heat in. He rounded the tent and stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the clearing.
“Uh, Shane?”  Of course, there was no answer from the tent.  Shane stuttered badly and seldom spoke. “Shane,” he repeated. “Come here please.”
He heard the familiar unzip-zip and the crunch of Shane’s boots; the louder the crunch, the colder the temperature. It wasn’t as crunchy today as it had been.  The past few weeks had been brutally cold. Neither man had dared to leave the tent until yesterday when they were both so hungry Tommy had to go in search of food.
As Shane reached his side, Tommy gestured to the scene before them and asked, “Shaney… What is this?”
Shane hung his head.  Tommy asked again.  “Shane, why would you do this? I mean…”
“It’s… it’s… a f-f-f-f-f-f-f-fam…”

“A family,” Tommy finished for him, as he was used to doing.  Of course it was.  Tears stung the back of his eyes as he gazed at the three snowmen. The snow-woman and snow-child were seated in the only chairs they owned – the green resin kind stacked by the hundreds behind Wal-Mart. Snow-dad joined them at the broken table Tommy had scavenged from behind Messina’s steakhouse. He proudly wore Tommy’s red scarf.
What only a moment ago had looked to Tommy like a life-threatening waste of time and body heat now looked like the one thing Shane had never had – a family. Shane had been passed from one foster family to another until he was kicked out of the system when he turned eighteen.
Tommy watched as Shane began unwinding the scarf from Snow-dad’s neck. Tommy walked up behind Shane and gathered him in a tight embrace.
“Leave it,” he whispered.
“I… I… I’m s-s-s-sor…”

“Shh. Don’t be sorry, Shane.”  He gazed over Shane’s shoulder at the happy faces of the snow family.
“I kn-kn-know y-y-you m-m-m-m-m-miss y-y-y-your f-f-f-f-fam…”

“My family? You made this for me?”
Shane nodded.
Tommy clutched Shane to him.  “My family kicked me out for being gay, remember? They’re colder than these snowmen. You’re my family, Shane. And, God, I love you.”

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When this picture was posted, I couldn't for the life of me think of a single story. I decided not to 'play' this week.  Later in the day I was working on a story that was inspired by a holiday flash fiction blog hop called Homeless For The Holiday.  I may not have been able to think of anything for this picture, but Tommy and Shane had a story to tell. Funny how that works. One thing I've learned is when those characters start talking, you'd better listen. Oh, and I'm eleven words over.  Sorry.
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There are real, live kids out there like Tommy & Shane that are fighting the elements every day.  If you think 'surely someone will help them when it gets this cold' - give this video a watch:



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Don't miss all the other great Flash Fiction Monday stories!  You can find them here.
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Published on March 01, 2015 21:00

February 26, 2015

The Tree



A post by Matt on the 2 Boys in Love blog today got me waxing nostalgic about a tree.  Not all trees, although that's what Matt's wonderful, uplifting post was about.  He was talking about trees in general and was inspired by this wonderful painting he received from the uber-talented Thorny Sterling.






I love trees. All trees, but especially old, gnarly ones that have lived long enough to tell stories of their own if they could. As I read Matt's post, I started thinking about one tree in general: the tree in my mom's backyard. As I typed my comment on the 2 Boys blog, I found myself getting more and more emotional. This is my comment, slightly edited:

We had a giant maple in my backyard as a kid and it was the perfect climbing tree - you could go around and around and around - all the way to the top. I had favorite spots. One giant cubby where I could stretch out against the trunk and read. One where I could straddle the branch like a motorcycle or lay on my belly and put my book/elbows on the "Y" shaped branches and read. We even made a haunted "house" one year - hanging stuff in the tree to tickle you or that you'd have to navigate around as you climb. It was the biggest tree on the block and every kid's favorite - it was like it had a life of it's own. My mom passed a few years ago and I had to sell the house. I wrote a letter to the new owners - a young couple - and told them about all my memories of growing up there - and especially the tree. I literally went out back to said goodbye to it before leaving the last time. This past fall, I drove past the house and saw giant slabs of wood all over the back yard. I wanted to scream. I remember texting my big brother, "They cut down the tree :( " I didn't even need to tell him who or what tree I was talking about. It was a long time before he responded with "They did?" I sent, "Yep" and he sent back a sad face with a tear. Ugh. Sorry. I didn't mean to get all morose, and I'm making myself cry, but my point was, I get it. Trees are so much more than just trees to me.

That maple wasn't just a tree - it was The Tree. There were other trees in our yard all through the years, but they had specific names like: The Blue Spruce or The Tree Out Front, but the maple in the backyard we just called The Tree.

"Mom! Have you seen my bike?"
"Yes, dear, it's right where you left it - under The Tree!"

(Phone call from Mom) "You'll have to come see The Tree before the leaves fall. It's the most gorgeous red I've ever seen this year!"

It earned that title because it was majestic - the biggest tree in the entire neighborhood and had been planted by Mrs. Cedar, the original owner of the house, sometime around WW1. The house was a big old, two-story brick on a hill but The Tree's branches extended out over the roof almost reaching the front yard.  It shaded the next-door neighbor's entire backyard too.

In recent years, my husband and I cursed The Tree because of the sheer volume of leaves to be raked and hauled to the curb. It would take days to clear her yard of leaves. A small sacrifice for all The Tree had given us in return.

I wanted to post a picture of The Tree here for you to see, but I sadly realize, I don't have one. Maybe someday I'll stumble across one - I hope I do - but thankfully, I remember every branch.  I can close my eyes right now and remember where every hand and foot had to be placed on every branch as you climb up, up, up to the very top.

When I finished typing my comment to Matt, I was sitting here bawling as if I'd lost a member of my family and that's when it hit me.

I had.













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Published on February 26, 2015 10:18

February 23, 2015

The Sacred Husbands' Ceremony






The Sacred Husbands' Ceremony

Mason brought the big horse to a halt.
“Let’s stop here for a minute.”
Luke pulled his stallion up as well and studied his friend as they both dismounted. They were headed back to the ranch, the glow of the setting sun casting long shadows on the dry ground. They had a ways to ride before reaching home and it was unlike Mason to risk losing daylight to watch a sunset, but then, he'd been acting odd all day. They’d spent the entire day together—just the two of them—it'd been Mason's idea, yet he'd been distant and quiet the whole time, even more than usual.
“Amazing sunset,” Luke said, and smiled as Mason took his hand.  Mason didn’t answer but Luke saw him nod in the amber light. "Thanks for today, Mace. I really enjoyed...."
Mason cut him off. “Would you... would you marry me, Luke?” His voice was gruff and low but Luke heard him perfectly. The problem was, he couldn't believe what he heard. This was Texas. There was no way in hell Mason would actually propose. Luke chuckled.
Would I?  Obviously, the use of the word 'would' makes this a hypothetical question. Otherwise, it's not really fair, because you'd know my answer ahead of time—you know, before you properly asked.”
“Jesus, Luke,” Mason growled as he turned to him. Their gazes met and the intensity in Mason's blazed back at him. 
Oh. Oh! Luke’s heart froze and his breath caught as Mason sank to one knee, his gaze never leaving Luke's. This time it was barely a whisper.
Will you... marry me?”
Luke looked into the blue eyes he’d known forever and bit his bottom lip, trying not to grin. He wanted to kiss Mason so bad right now. Instead, he smirked.
“Gosh, I don’t know. Someone once told me I shouldn't say yes to the first boy that asked...”
“No other boy better ever have reason to ask you that," Mason grumbled.
Mason fumbled in his pocket for a moment before producing a black box with his free hand. He flipped it open with his thumb and Luke gasped.

Luke looked at Mason and in that moment he saw the six-year old boy who'd smiled up at him so shyly the first time they met. He remembered The Sacred Blood Brothers Ceremony where they'd bravely mixed their blood together and vowed to be brothers forever—like these rings: the two of them, side by side, always and forever.

Luke smoothed a stray lock of hair from Mason’s eyes. “There'll never be anyone else, Mace. You’re my first, my last, my only. Yes, I would love to be your husband.” A thought occurred to him and he couldn’t resist adding, “It is husband, right?”
Mason laughed and pulled Luke down, into his arms. “Yes, Luke. Husbands.”

Luke kissed him before looking into the only eyes he ever wanted to wake up to and said, "The Sacred Husbands' Ceremony, huh? Yeah, Mace. Let's do this."

~~~

When this picture got posted on the Monday Flash Fic page, I immediately knew the scene - I'd written it. It's from book two - the sequel to my novel. The setting was a little different, but this is definitely Mason proposing to Luke. I pulled up Scrivener and, yep... found it. A little tweaking is all it took. I ended up cutting two hundred words and changing a few others, but... yeah, it was written awhile ago.
I had fun spending a little time with Mason and Luke again and I'm thinking I like this setting better than my original one anyway, so, for now, anyway, it's a permanent part of book two. Now I just need to finish book one and get it submitted.
Pretty sure that was Helena's plan when she posted this picture anyway. ;o)

Check out everyone else's 'take' on this picture. Links can be found on the group page.







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Published on February 23, 2015 04:00

February 12, 2015

Blahdy, blahdy, blah.

I'm sure this becomes boring after awhile. No big deal. As my co-writer, Helena Stone sometimes says, "Blahdy, blahdy, blah."

But for me, to wake up and log on to see our book on the Dreamspinner page under Coming Soon with a pre-sale link is pretty darned exciting

So, if you've been the least bit curious about the love child Helena and I created during our first Skype session, this is your chance!  Strangers In The Night will hit your Kindles on March 11th, but you can pre-order now!  And it's on sale!

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Published on February 12, 2015 07:41

February 2, 2015

Bounce House



My friends, Helena Stone and Brigham Vaughn do a Flash Fiction post every Monday.  Last week, Helena and I were chatting and she chuckled and said Theo Fenraven had just sent her a picture for them to use. She showed it to me and I had to laugh. But then I started thinking...  And then I started writing... And then I showed it to them and they invited me to post mine along with their's. So, here is my take on Theo's picture.


BOUNCE HOUSE
“They’re making fun of me already.
I haven’t even been here for one full day yet.  That’s okay, though. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. I move around a lot and I’m used to the other houses making fun of my bright red roof and porch with the funny blue stairs that can’t be climbed because there’s no railing. They call me four eyes and make fun of my kindergarten colors. Whatever. I know I’m not perfect like them. I don’t have well defined edges and a perfect roofline. I’m kind of round and puffy and my shingles need cut. I’m not strong like them either. When a heavy wind comes along, I’m the first to go down.
They even have sophisticated names like Tudor and Ranch. See the one next to me? That’s Colonial. But me? Even my name is ridiculous. Who names their kid Bounce, anyway? Yeah, that’s my name. Bounce House. Go ahead and laugh. I’ll wait.
Because you know what? Those houses next to me might look pretty on the outside, but there’s a lot of unhappiness behind their doors.  I hear the yelling and the screaming that goes on inside. They aren’t as perfect as they want everyone to believe. A new coat of paint and some flowers don’t make the family on the inside any happier. It doesn’t keep their kids from crying or being sad.
No, they can have their carefully coordinated color-pallet. I’ll keep my bright yellow walls and my too-red roof and the mouth that’s too big for my face because all those things make me… me…  and I make the people inside me and around me giggle and laugh. They love me because I’m colorful and fun and I make them smile every time they see me.  They bump up against me and I bump back. Sometimes I even knock them off their feet, but they don’t care – they love me anyway – even if I jiggle too much - because I make them happy. They love me for who I am and they don’t want me to change.
Hear those kids squealing right now? That’s because they just spotted me – me - not Colonial.  They’re running this way to play with me – not him or any of the ‘perfect’ houses.
But I can’t talk anymore because here they come! Gonna’ get pounced on in three… two… ‘UMPHPH’  Hahahahaha!”
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 Check out Helena Stone's story here and Brigham Vaughn's story here.Thanks, girls, for letting me play with you! ;o)


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Published on February 02, 2015 04:00

January 28, 2015

There be Dragons!

Woot!  I'm pleased to announce that I'm now a member of the Evernight Publishing family!  I just signed a contract with them for a short story of mine called Dragons!  I'll keep you updated, but it should be out this spring!  I can't wait for you to meet Joey and Will!

Dragons Blurb
A chance encounter in a hospital waiting room between twenty-two year old Will Messina and sixteen year old Josiah Pinkerton ends with a gift of a stuffed dragon off the hospital gift cart and a memory neither of them can shake.
Five years later, when a lonely, buttoned-up Will ventures into a gay club, he spots a pale, leather-clad specter with violet eyes tracking his every move. Will realizes he’s being watched by the grown version of the boy who’s haunted his thoughts for years.
Joey recognizes Will, but he’s no longer the sweet, brown-eyed boy worthy of Will’s attention. He’s damaged and defective and lives in a different world than Will now. When his childhood crush makes his way across the bar, Joey doesn’t have time to decide whether to be enchanted or dismayed because, unless he turns and runs, those worlds are about to collide.
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Published on January 28, 2015 14:52

January 25, 2015

Strangers In The Night Cover Reveal!

Helena Stone and I finally get to show off our awesome cover for Strangers In The Night - the sexy little story we co-wrote that's being released by Dreamspinner Press on March 11th.  Thanks to the incredible Reese Dante for bringing our vision to life!



When Army veteran, Slade, stumbles upon an isolated cottage on a cold, dark, night, the young man finds more than just the shelter he’s seeking.
Former club Dominant Callum is surprised to find a handsome stranger knocking at his door but invites him in despite his reservations. A nightmare reveals Slade’s deep-seated emotional issues, and Callum knows he needs to get creative if he’s going to help Slade leave the past behind.

Neither man is prepared for the feelings Slade’s introduction into the world of BDSM will unleash, and thirty-six hours will either be enough to bind them, or they will remain forever strangers in the night.    
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Published on January 25, 2015 07:35

January 23, 2015

It's Been Educational

I did something the other day I never thought I'd do.  I told my sister-in-law what I was writing.  She asked and I told her.  She insisted she wanted to read my book when it comes out.

(Insert shameless self-promo here: Strangers In The Night, March 11 from Dreamspinner Press)

Yeah, there was some hemming and hawing before I decided to stand up like the adult I am and just tell her: "It's gay, erotic romance." She, of course stammered and stuttered. She literally, at one point, said, "That's gay... I mean great!" I explained to her the characters were both men, because I'm sure she was thinking they were both female.

That led to a very pregnant pause.

I knew what she was thinking. You know what she thinking...

Her: "But, how do you...?"
Me: "Let's just say it's been very educational."
Her: (laughs nervously)
Me: "You can pretty much find anything on the internet. Including how long it takes a sunflower seed to travel the length of the digestive system."Her: (laughs for real)
Me: "Like I said, it's been extremely educational."



And that's when it hit me - what I've learned in this last year or two - and it has nothing to do with sex: gay, straight, or otherwise.  And it's nothing to laugh about.



And so I started telling her - what I've learned - because everybody needs to learn this shit. Everybody.



There are 1.7 million homeless teens in the U.S.40% of homeless youth identify as LGBT50% of homeless youth report their parents told them to leave or knew they were leaving and didn't care.LGB kids are four times more likely to attempt suicide than their straight peers50% of Trans kids have thought about suicide25% of Trans kids have attempted suicide

Those were the facts I'd learned by heart as I've interacted with all of you and become an ally and an advocate.  Below are a few more statistics I found that are no less heartbreaking:
Suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death in young people ages 10-24LGB from highly rejecting families are 8.4 times more likely to attempt suicide than peers in no- or low-level rejection familiesEach episode of LGBT victimization (physical and/or verbal) increases the likelihood of self-harm by 2.5 times.39% of homeless are under age 1875% of homeless teens use drugs or alcohol to self-medicateThe average age of homeless youth is 14.7

*Statistics quoted are from The Trevor Project and DoSomething.org

We actually had a long, really nice conversation and she turned out to be surprisingly cool and supportive. Huh. Not the first real-life person to surprise me and hopefully not the last.

She continued to insist she wanted to read my book.  I told her what I've told everyone else in my real life. I'll give you another book in the genre to read first. If you enjoy it, let me know. Then you can read mine.  It'll feel less voyeuristic to me that way.

We ended our conversation agreeing that the world has a long way to go but with each generation, the level of discrimination gets diluted. As with everything, I believe it all starts with education. Why wait? When you know better, you do better.


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Published on January 23, 2015 16:08

January 19, 2015

Going Down With The Ship

This has to be one of the funniest things I've ever read about "shipping."  So far I've been able to avoid the supermassive black hole that is Fan Fiction.  Don't get me wrong... I hear the extremely loud sucking sound, trying to draw me in, but so far I've managed to stay firmly anchored to my desk and my Tumblr account.  But, if you've ever read Fan Fiction or shipped anyone, you'll relate to this:

https://callmeafangirl.wordpress.com/2014/04/10/the-story-of-the-shipping-that-is-entering-the-circle-of-the-otps-phenomenology-of-a-fandom/





As most of you know, this is my ship. >>>>>>>


Who's yours?






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Published on January 19, 2015 13:45

December 1, 2014

Homeless For The Holidays - Flash Fiction Holiday Blog Hop






The moment I spotted the photo below it captivated me.  The peaceful sadness on the bearded boy's face reached right out and grabbed my soul and my inner angst-whore immediately knew his story.  Turns out this photo was to be used as inspiration for a Flash Fiction Holiday Blog Hop being hosted by Thorny Sterling, Kris Bethke and LC Chase.  I signed up.  I had to.  Because while Shane and Tommy may live only in my imagination, there are real, live kids out there, just like them.  If you're kind enough to read to the end of my story, I'll share a way to help them.







HOMELESS FOR THE HOLIDAYS
Jaycee Edward


Shane fingered the crystal ornament and resisted the urge to slip it in his pocket.  The camera behind him was fake.  Tiny gift shops like this didn't spend money on security.  They posted lots of signs instead, warning you that you were being watched, but you really weren't.  Unless you looked like him: dirty and out of place amongst all the pretty, shiny things.  He traced the intertwining necks of the two giraffes with a dirty fingernail.  He liked how their bodies were pressed together, but their necks arched out to form a heart before joining again at the top where their heads met.  Tommy would like this.  Tommy loved giraffes.  He told Shane once that giraffes exhibited natural homosexual tendencies.  Shane had never felt like any part of being gay was natural, so he kind of liked giraffes now too.  Tommy was smart like that.  He said the young males like to tongue-kiss and nuzzle.  Shane smiled.  He liked that stuff too - especially when Tommy did it to him.As if the ornament in his hand was some sort of talisman, Tommy came up behind Shane and wrapped one arm around him while pressing his cold nose into Shane's neck, making him jump.  "Are you warm enough now?  We've been in this store too long.  We can't stay here."Shane liked this store because the old lady who owned it kept it warmer than all the others and everything in here sparkled like it was cleaner than clean.  It smelled good too.  Like cinnamon.  His stomach growled and Tommy must've heard it."Hey! You know what, Shane?  I think it's Christmas Eve!  I have a couple of bucks left from the plasma place.  Let's go to Mickey-D's and have a real, hot, meal.  Just this once.  Wanna?"Shane nodded and took one last look at the shimmering giraffes before hanging the ornament back on the wall.  It swung on the little wooden peg, catching the light just right, sending multi-colored prisms dancing against the walls and shelves."Are you ready?" Tommy asked.Shane nodded again and followed him to the front of the store. "If I'm right, and it is Christmas Eve, the library will close early tonight.  Every public place will.  We may not have anywhere to go to get out of the cold.  We'd better go to the library first, while we still can, and hang out for awhile.  Then we'll eat, okay?"Shane didn't answer.  He didn't have to.  Tommy understood him without words.  Tommy was family.  Or the closest thing to family Shane ever had, anyway.  Shuffled from one foster-home to another since he was a toddler, Shane became emancipated on his eighteenth birthday, but unlike most kids his age, he'd dreaded the 'freedom' that day brought.  No longer "in the system", he was suddenly on his own to find food, clothing and shelter.  Scared and alone, he'd wandered the streets that night, wondering where he was going to sleep.  Then he'd met Tommy. Tommy didn't grow up in foster care like Shane.  He had a real family - one with a warm house and food in the cupboards and clean clothes.  (That's what Shane missed the most.  The smell of a clean shirt when you pull it over your head.)  It surprised Shane to find out real families threw their kids away sometimes.  Even smart ones like Tommy.  He said he told his parents he was gay and his dad made him leave right then and there and that's how he came to be living deep in the woods, behind the shopping center, in a tent and some furniture boxes covered with a plastic tarp.   Shane figured if a real family, like Tommy's, didn't want him just because he was gay, then Shane had never stood a chance.  He was gay and dumb.  Not just stupid-dumb, although he was that too.  He was mute-dumb... well, kind of...  Shane stuttered so much it made everyone, not just him, feel awkward and embarrassed, so it was easier to just let people think he was non-verbal.  None of his faults mattered to Tommy, though. He'd taken Shane in that first night and shared his dinner with him, if you could call it that - it was really someone's half-eaten sandwich from the sub shop.  That was the beauty of the trashcans and dumpsters at the shopping center.  They provided a multitude of treasures.  You never knew what you might find or what "dinner" might be on any given day.They'd talked long into the night, or, rather, Tommy had talked to Shane, telling him about his past and asking Shane questions he could answer with a nod or shake of his head.  Tommy had held him close that night, and every night since, keeping him warm, keeping him safe. The elderly store owner hovered near her cash register and gave them a weak smile, obviously relieved they were leaving and no doubt hoping they hadn't stolen anything.  Tommy held the door and Shane stepped outside.  The cold, December wind bit his cheeks and, little by little, stole the warmth from under his clothes.  He wore several layers but December, January and February were greedy bastards; they knew all the ways to steal your heat.Winter was hard.  Everything had to be planned.  They couldn't just go into any, old store and hang out to get warm, and they didn't dare frequent the same places again and again.  They had to rotate.  The key was to become invisible, which was easy when they were outside.  People went out of their way to not look at them on the street.  But, inside, everyone eyeballed them suspiciously.  It's amazing what a difference four walls made. The library was their favorite place.  Not only were there several levels and lots of nooks and crannies in which to disappear, but there were big, clean, restrooms where they could clean up and those toasty, warm electric hand dryers on the wall.  Shane tried to get as much of himself as possible under the curved, silver chute as it blew hotter and hotter air.What Shane loved most about the library was that they actually got to sit - not just on some hard, old bench either - but in big, soft, comfy chairs that threatened to swallow you whole.  His favorite thing in the whole world was to sink into one of those chairs in the audio section and listen to music through headphones.  He'd close his eyes and let the music take him wherever he wanted to go.Tommy had a library card from before, so he borrowed books every time they went; that way no one got suspicious.  The library was the only place they could legitimately stay for hours, so they saved it for the coldest nights and special occasions."You gonna' listen to music awhile?" Shane smiled and nodded."I'm gonna' go find some books.  Anything in particular you want?"  Shane shook his head.  He didn't enjoy reading much.  He wasn't good at it.  He loved when Tommy read to him, though.  "I'll find a good mystery to read to you.  I know you like those.  Meet me at circulation at five o'clock."Shane looked at the clock on the wall.  That gave him just under two hours.  He settled further into the overstuffed chair and closed his eyes, letting the music transport his mind while his body relaxed into the cushions.At 4:45, he removed his headphones and returned the CDs to their proper locations before making his way downstairs to meet Tommy.  They left the library and hurried down the street to the nearest McDonalds.  The aroma of coffee and hot grease made his stomach growl again, much louder this time.  "I'll order, okay?  You go grab us a table," Tommy instructed.Shane liked this McDonalds.  It had a big, gas fireplace in the center with tables all around it.  Well versed on how to pick the warmest seat, he chose the table farthest from the entrance.  It was also the one table that, because of the fireplace, couldn't be seen by the employees at the counter, so, hopefully, they could stay awhile without being noticed.  Shane took off his heavy, outer coat and his hooded sweatshirt.  The coat was a heavy Carhartt Tommy had given him right after they met.  It had a year of hard wear but was still in decent shape.  He'd asked Tommy with his eyes, but Tommy wouldn't say where he'd gotten it.  With only his flannel shirt on now, he was a bit chilly, but the fireplace would warm him soon.  He didn't want to get too warm inside because it only made the outside seem colder.Tommy rounded the fireplace carrying a red tray and waggling his eyebrows.  "I got you hot chocolate!"  Shane grinned at him.  He loved Tommy.  No matter what, Tommy made everything better.  People might look at Shane and feel sorry for him, but Shane had never been happier and had never felt more loved.  Tommy set the tray on the table and Shane looked at the single serving.  He scrunched his face in confusion at Tommy, who shrugged.  "I'm not that hungry."  He plopped down in the chair across from Shane and shoved the tray toward him.  "Eat.  While it's hot."Shane unwrapped the cheeseburger and tore it in half, holding the larger piece out to Tommy, who shook his head.  "No, Shane.  You eat it."  He pried the lid off the foam cup and steam escaped.  "You need to let this cool or you'll burn your tongue."Shane didn't want to eat if Tommy wasn't eating.  He had to be just as hungry as he was.  He picked up the big half again and shoved it forcefully at Tommy with a frown.  Tommy chuckled and leaned forward, taking a bite. "Mmmm.  Thanks.  That's all I want, though."  Tommy sat back and rested his chin in his hands and smiled softly at Shane.  Shane knew better than to waste hot food.  They hardly ever got hot food unless they walked all the way to the other side of town where there was a church that served free dinners once a month. They didn't usually know what day it was, though, and often missed it.  He hung his head and ate.  It was good.  His stomach rejoiced at the treat.  When the hot chocolate cooled enough to drink, he took a sip and moaned.  Tommy laughed.  "Good?"  Shane nodded with exaggerated, wide eyes and held the cup out.  Tommy took it and sipped.  "Mmmmm.  Oh, my god, yeah."He gave it back to Shane.  "Drink it.  Get your core temp up.  There's not a cloud in the sky out there.  It's gonna' be a long, cold night."Shane took another drink of the creamy, sweet, chocolate and shivered as the heat travelled the entire length of his insides.  Foam from the melted whipped cream stuck to his upper lip and before he could lick it away, Tommy looked back and forth quickly and leaned over the table, grabbing Shane's head in his warm hands.  He grinned wickedly at Shane and licked the foam from his lip before planting a kiss on Shane's surprised mouth."Damn good!"  Tommy winked at him and Shane laughed.They shared the rest, carefully trying to make it last.  When the last drop was gone and the girl cleaning the dining room started side-eyeing them, they knew it was time to leave.  With nothing else open, they headed for home.To anyone passing through the woods, if they even managed to spot their "house", it would look like a bunch of junk someone had dumped there.  No one frequented the dense patch of woods surrounded by retail on all four sides, though.  No one but them.Once inside the tent, they sealed up all the openings and fired up a small camp stove that ran on propane.  It gave off enough heat to chase away the chill.  That's all they used it for and they used it sparingly.  They spooned together in bed, which consisted of two sleeping bags zipped together.  Again, Tommy wouldn't tell Shane where, or how, he'd gotten them.  He was pretty sure Tommy stole things sometimes and he was terrified he'd get arrested.  Shane didn't know what would happen to him if Tommy wasn't there.Tommy's warm breath against Shane's ear made him shiver."Merry Christmas, Shane."He felt Tommy's arm lift away from him and saw something in front of his eyes in the dark.  He put his hand on Tommy's arm and followed it to his hand, then to his fingers.  Something cool hit his skin.  It felt like glass.  He traced the shape with his fingers, following the two gentle curves and recognition dawned."Th-th-th-th-th..." Shane huffed in frustration. "Gi-gi-gi...""Yeah. The giraffes." Tommy pressed his lips to Shane's neck.  "I saw you looking at it.  You like it?"Shane nodded vigorously so Tommy would feel it.  Tears pricked at the back of his eyes and rolled earthward to plop on Tommy's arm beneath his head."Aw, Shane, don't cry.""Hhhhhoooow?""I went back for it while you were at the library."Shane flipped over and put a hand against Tommy's face.  He shook his head vehemently."Do-do-do-do-do-don't st-st-st-st-st-st...""I didn't steal it.  I bought it.  I told you I had some money left from donating plasma."Shane relaxed, but only momentarily. That's why Tommy didn't buy himself anything to eat.  Guilt washed over Shane and he put his hand against Tommy's flat, empty, belly and another tear fell to the sleeping bag below."I wanted to do it, Shane.  It's Christmas and I want you to have one gift - one nice thing that's from me, okay?""B-b-b-b-b-b-but... I-I-I-I-I..."Tommy put his finger over Shane's lips.  "You... are my gift, Shane."
For the first time in his life, Shane wished he had the ability to speak like a normal person - to tell Tommy what was in his heart right now.  He pulled Tommy's hand away from his lips and kissed him, long and deep.  Tommy broke the kiss and leaned back to look into Shane's eyes and nodded.
"I love you too, Shane."
~

*If you would like to help teens who have been emancipated from the foster care system in the Akron, OH area, please contact Chair-ity (Chairity.Summit at gmail-dot-com) a local 501c3 non-profit organization founded and run by an amazing teenage friend of mine.  She collects furniture and household goods to distribute to recently emancipated teens as they start over on their own.  She just received her 501c3 status and had her kick-off fundraiser a few weeks ago.  Any and all donations will be greatly appreciated by Maria and the kids she helps.

~

  http://new.inlinkz.com/luwpview.php?id=454589



My story is just one of many on the blog hop.  Stories will be posted between 12/1 - 12/7.  Click the link above to check out the other entries.  I'm sure there will not be a single disappointing one in the mix and it will be fun to see how different people interpret a single photo.Thank you to all who made this possible and thank you for reading!I'd love to hear your comments below!  :)




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Published on December 01, 2014 03:00