Page 53 of Out of the Storm

Around seven, they bought some chips and Jell-O from a gas station rather than stopping at another restaurant and then checked into a motel, booking a room with two full-sized beds to save some money. Jeff had to hope that he’d be able to sleep with Gary in the room. It hadn’t really been possible back in Niles with Gary curled up right next to him, but separate sleeping spaces would probably help. Maybe.

The week before, when Jeff had spent the night in Gary’s bed, every time Jeff had started to fall asleep, something had roused him, and so, he’d given up trying pretty early. Jeff hadn’t managed to tell Gary that he reallyhadtried to sleep. Not only because it was pathetic, but because saying that would probably have made Garyfeel like shit. Only one of them needed to feel like shit at a time. And Jeff liked being that person. He was used to it.

Since both Jeff and Gary were pretty tired from the long trip, they readied themselves for bed as soon as they got settled in the hotel room, without even trying to watch the tiny, probably half-broken television they had in the room. As Jeff closed his eyes, he started feeling pretty confident. Maybe this setup—two separate beds a few feet apart—wasokay for him. And Jeffdidsleep.

At least for a little while.

But then his quiet sleep turned to dark and angry dreams. He fought and clawed his way out until he was finally able to suck in a sharp breath. He bolted upright, his heart beating ferociously in his chest. Images of the nightmare were fading fast, only flashes of Don’s fucking face and the sensation of his ex-boyfriend’s rough hands pressing him into the mattress remained, and yet Jeff couldn’t let go of the panic, his breathing fast and labored, sweat on his brow.

After a few breaths, Jeff realized where he was. And who he was with.

Grimacing, Jeff looked over at Gary, expecting to see him wide awake from Jeff’s outburst, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. Jeff sighed with relief.

For the next hour, Jeff lay staring at the ceiling, trying to calm his racing heart and even faster-moving thoughts. Finally, when Jeff couldn’t stand it anymore, he crept over to Gary’s bed. Because, intimacy problems be damned, he wanted to be near Gary, even if it meant he wouldn’t sleep another wink that night. He obviously wasn’t sleeping anyway.

When Jeff shimmied under the covers, Gary roused a little.

“Jeff?” he asked, lulling his head to the side, his eyes still shut.

“Just thought I’d stay here for a while,” Jeff whispered. “Go back to sleep, Gare.”

“Mmmkay,” Gary mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

In seconds, Gary’s breathing slowed. Nuzzling as close to Gary as he could, Jeff breathed in Gary’s scent—faintly like lemon, probably whatever kind of soap he liked to use—and let out a contented hum. Time passed like that for a while, with Jeff’s nose pressed to Gary’s shoulder, but then, overcome with the need for rest, Jeff rolled over to face the other way.

Right when Jeff was starting to feel more comfortable, the haze of half-slumber cloaking his mind, Gary shifted over toward him, snaking one arm around Jeff’s midsection, and the sensation caused Jeff to freeze. Seconds stretched into minutes as Jeff struggled to breathe properly, panic rising in his chest.

But then Gary mumbled Jeff’s name.

“Jeffrey,” he said, his voice so slow and thick that Jeff could barely understand him. But, God, it made him smile.

No one had ever called him that before. Not Don. Not Mel. Not Brandon. Only Gary.

Jeffrey.

It was like a promise of safety. Of care.

Panic subsiding, Jeff scooted backwards, and Gary hugged him tighter.

“Sweet dreams, radio man,” Jeff whispered.

He spent the rest of the night teetering on the edge of sleep.

***

The next day was filled with even more driving, and by the time they reached Norman early the following morning, Jeff’s eyelids were heavy, his muscles practically screaming from exhaustion. They were scheduled to meet up with the rest of his storm-chasing group for a late breakfast, but not for another four hours, which was what Jeff had expected, more or less. Everyone else who traveled to Norman from out of state had a habit of arriving a whole twenty-four hours ahead of the scheduled meetup, but Jeff’s time off from the mall was too limited for him to want to waste time meandering around Norman for that long. So, instead, he liked to cut it close. Nottooclose, though. So now, even though they’d taken their time that morning, they still had a bunch more to waste.

Jeff was so Goddamn tired that Gary suggested he rest in the back seat of the car for a while. Jeff wasn’t too optimistic that he’d be able to sleep, but he figured he might as well try. So after they found a parking spot in the lot next to the coffee shop where the meetup would be, Jeff moved into the back seat while Gary stayed up front and read a magazine. Somehow, even with the car being five hundred degrees, Jeff slept like a baby.

Four-ish hours later, Jeff sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He felt so much better, even considering how disgusted he was by the fact that his T-shirt was now soaked with sweat thanks to the ungodly temperature inside the car. Gary didn’t tease him about it, only asked him how he felt and offered to help find him a clean shirt to wear. Then, after he changed, they headed into the coffee shop together.

A couple of the other storm nuts were already there—Marsha, a twenty-five-year-old mom who lived in Tulsa and worked as a bookkeeper for some insurance firm, and Ted, a man who lived in Florida and worked as a landscaper (he seemed to be around thirty or so)—chatting and munching on bakery items. Even though Jeff had only known his fellow storm chasers for three years, he still felt a little pang of fondness when he saw them. Being with these people, it had become like a home away from home. Storm chasing was a niche hobby, one without that many participants, and there was a special sort of bond between everyone who took part in it.

Jeff and Gary ordered a couple of coffees before walking over to where Marsha and Ted sat.

“Hey,” Jeff said, balancing his coffee in his left hand and holding out his right. “Remember me?”

“Of course we remember you, Jeff,” Ted said with a crooked smile. He stood up and shook Jeff’s hand. “We see you every year!”

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