Page 23 of Out of the Storm

And, well, that settled that, then.

Chapter Six

Jeff

One hour later, Jeff was standing knee-deep in trash, surrounded by even more trash, searching for a sixty-year-old piece of costume jewelry. Why? Because he had a crush on Gary Goddamn Graham. Worse, he wanted Gary to like him too. Not romantically, necessarily. Or even sexually. Because, fuck, there wasn’t a chance of that—Gary had never evenhintedthat he wasn’t straight—and, hell, even if therewasa chance that Gary was into men, Jeff couldn’t ever pursue him. He couldn’t let himself risk hurting the chipper man from the radio.

No, Jeff was illegally rifling through half-frozen, half-decomposing piles of refuse simply because he wanted Gary to like him enough to spend more time with him. And, God help him, some stupid part of him was having fun with it too.

What. The. Fuck.

“Oh, wow!” Gary exclaimed, causing Jeff to turn. Gary kicked a box of crackers over to him, one that looked like it had been chewed on by a rodent of some sort. “Ratz Crackers!”

“Ratz Crackers,” Jeff repeated, his monotone voice sounding faraway before a long-forgotten memory kicked him in the teeth. “Holy shit!”

“So, you remember those spoof trading cards too?” Gary asked.

“I, uh, yeah. I had a few. I think.”

Gary was obviously tickled by this, which made Jeff’s chest flutter and warm in the most pathetic way possible. He wassohopelessly into Gary Graham.

“Weakies, Quacker Oats...” Gary started rattling them off.

“Jail-O,” Jeff offered.

“Right!” Gary said, his excitement crashing into Jeff and fueling Jeff’s own excitement too.

While they searched for a few moments more, Gary was still smiling this huge, silly smile. And it was really stupidly cute—so cute that if Gary kept it up, Jeff thought he’d probably explode or implode or maybe even spontaneously combust. But then, before Jeff could meet such an untimely, violent end in a heap of refuse, Gary sighed very loudly and said, “I’m never finding that necklace, huh?”

And it was like a knife to Jeff’s heart.

“Probably not,” Jeff said, forcing himself to be honest.

Gary sat dejectedly in the trash pile he’d been standing on, staring off into the distance, and Jeff came over and sat beside him. As soon as he plopped onto the heap, a fresh puff of rotting detritus wafted into the air, and he had to fight the urge to retch. Jesus Christ, it smelled so terrible out here. Who knew what kinds of diseases they might have picked up looking through this shit.

“Thanks for searching with me,” Gary said quietly. “I didn’t expect you to do that.”

“Not like I was busy.” Fuck, Jeff, try to sound alittleless like an asshole. “I, uh, I had fun.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Gary said, and this time, he was laughing. “Geez, what sarcasm. I never said youhadto come look with me, you know.”

“No, I’m not... I’m not trying to be...” Jeff closed his eyes to try to force the words to come. “I mean it. I liked hanging outwith you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re funny. Sometimes.”

“I’m funny sometimes,” Gary repeated with a wry smile. “Wow, you sure know how to make a man feel special.”

Jeff snorted, his heart thudding from Gary’s tease. “I know.” Without thinking, Jeff moved a hand through his hair, and as soon as he did, he remembered how fucking filthy he was. His face contorted into a grimace. “Ugh, shit.”

Gary burst out laughing, and the sound had Jeff’s heart soaring, even as blood rushed to his cheeks. Hearing Gary so happy was maybe worth him having moved literal garbage through his hair.

After a moment, Gary said, “Hey, you never tried one of those cookies the other day. If you drop me back off at home, I’ll bring one out for you.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Seconds passed. Some birds—crows, maybe?—cawed overhead.

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