Summer Sons

by Lee Mandelo

Andrew leaned against his rear bumper. “Yeah?” “I got something planned for you tomorrow, so don’t disappear on me.” A mom in a pickup truck pulled up behind him, two kids hollering in the back seat. Their conversation paused. She clambered out of the truck and cast them a judgmental, hassled look, proceeding to viciously input her zip code at the credit card swipe. Andrew braced himself on the WRX’s open passenger window as Sam sat back into his seat. The inside of the car smelled ripe and inviting, musky with weed and the scent he was starting to think of as Sam. “What is it?” “A surprise, birthday boy,” he said, quieter than Andrew expected, smiling. His throat worked around a dry swallow, suddenly parched. “All right.” “I got work in the morning,” Sam said. His tank top scooped low on his chest and stretched against his pecs as he rolled his shoulders in a shimmy. “But I’ll come over after, around nine. Be there.” Andrew smacked the inside of the door once in agreement and returned to the Supra. When he started it, the temperature gauge read closer to normal. If he didn’t act an ass, he’d get home fine. He gave Sam a thumbs-up and watched him roll out, disappearing into the night with the familiar stink of exhaust.

Oof