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.I couldhave showed up with a Pokemon shirt and bell-bottoms and no onewould have noticed.People do notice him, and Brad knows it, and forsome reason he is terrified of coming up short.And for some reason, I find that fear in someone who so doesn tneed to work so hard at being hot is irresistible.114 John GoodeSo when he pulled up wearing a ball cap and his letterman jacket,I knew he literally ran out the door to get me out of there.And if thatwasn t worth melting over a little, I don t know what is.I left the house in a state of disarray but without dead bodiesevident.When I came back after lunch to see if my mother had crawledout of her cave, the living room looked cleaned up, but there was adead body on the couch.See what I mean? Weird.At first, I had no idea who the corpse in question was.Because itlay facedown in the cushions, all I could see was that he was a full-grown man and he had a nice ass.I know that makes me sound like aperv crushing on some old dead guy, but I assure you, some assestranscend age, and this was one of them.I wasn t aware my mom knewanyone with that nice a body; if I had, I would have been nicer to him.Iinched closer to make sure I was just being sarcastic and the guy wasreally breathing when he snorted in his sleep and turned over to faceme.Holy shit, it was Mr.Parker!You d think he was some hideous monster the way I jumpedback, but he was anything but.From what I had gathered from mymom, he d been some kind of high school football star who ended upbusting his knee out his first season at college and had to come back toFoster for some reason or another.I couldn t imagine anything worsethan that.I mean, bad enough he d worked his ass off again with hisass! Man, I need to focus and actually got out of Matrix Four: TheMayberry Years, but to end up being sent back here had to be on parwith finding out the golden ticket you found in your chocolate bar wasreally just a cheap-ass coupon, and, by the way, you and yourfreeloading grandfather can get back on the bus and enjoy a lifetime ofcabbage soup.Okay, maybe it wasn t like that for him, but I damn well know ifit was me, I d be wishing some pain on the next fat-faced blueberrychick I saw.He was handsome in a way that was just wrong on someone hisage.Not that he was, like, forty or anything, but he was as old as mymom and by that time the slope down to ancient gets pretty slippery.More times than not, folks my mom and Mr.Parker s age just look old. Taking Chances 115Not Mr.Parker.He looked like one of those stupid, hot jocks all grownup with adult clothes on. Adult clothes here meaning their pants areactually at their waist and stuff.Brad thought the guy hung the moon,which made me jealous for about five seconds.Then I realized this guyhad played against Brad s dad when they were in high school, and thereisn t a guy who would find his dad hot, even with a gun pointed at hishead.Though he didn t say anything, I think Mr.Parker had talked toBrad about us at some point, which made the man a superhero in mybook.The fact my mom and him were, like, best friends from highschool just made the microscopic size of this town all the moreapparent to me.The day he stood up for Brad, and I guess me too, atthe school board meeting was the day I realized being gay wasn tautomatically a death sentence.Okay, yeah, I get it, major drama queen, but seriously.At my age,the thought of having to walk around with a scarlet letter on my chestfor the rest of my life signifying to everyone I was not like the rest ofthem& well, death would be merciful when compared to that kind oflife.But Mr.Parker was gay, hot, and stuck in Foster, and he didn tlook like he was one bad day away from climbing the water tower overon Elm with a rifle.The fact you can grow up being this way and stilllook as normal as he did was the first sign that the light at the end of thetunnel might not be a near-death experience.But none of that explained why he was crashed on my couch.I resisted the urge to find a stick and poke him with it, somethingI had wanted to do to a dead body since I had seen Stand By Me.Instead, I went to the kitchen and made some coffee.I may only beseventeen, but I had a doctorate in dealing with drunks.I was thefreaking Doogie Howser of enabling, and I knew what a Budweiser naplooked like from this distance.I also knew how to counter it.Two parts caffeine, which was the coffee; one part pain relief,which was the aspirin I was grabbing; apply cold water, in this case adamp washcloth; and speak very, very softly.In this case that would be, Mr.Parker? Are you awake? Which was what you asked even thoughyou knew the person wasn t.I am not sure when this whole line ofcounterintuitive questions became the norm, but I know if I was passedout like that, someone asking me if I was awake would just piss me thehell off.116 John Goode Mr.Parker, I tried again, this time poking his shoulder. Areyou awa His hand snapped out and grabbed my wrist so fast, I swore Icould hear that martial arts movie break as one eye stared up at me.In avoice barely above a growl, he asked. Kyle? Why are you in myhouse?I tried to pull my hand back slowly, but there was no way I wasgetting it back unless he let go. Wow, I exclaimed, looking at complete lack of effort he wasexerting holding me tight. You are crazy strong.His gaze followed mine to his hand and just like that, I was free.It took some effort not to go stumbling backward like a spaz, but Imanaged. Sorry, he rattled off, not sounding the least bit sorry. Now whythe fuck are you in my house?I set the coffee down on the table in front of him. Um, is thatyour final answer? I asked, making sure I was more than an arm slength away from him before I spoke.He began to sit up and then cried out like he d been shot.I sawhis hands move over his head and it looked like he was trying to holdhis skull together, which did nothing to deter from the visual that hehad just been JFKed. Coffee in front of you, bottle of aspirin next toit, I said, making sure my voice never got above what I haddetermined was a drunk person s pain threshold when spoken to.As heblindly reached out for the cup, I swore to myself I was never going todrink alcohol.Never ever. Little to the right, I coached since he missed the table entirelythe first three times.On the forth he grabbed the cup and pulled it to his lips, lookingway too much like Gollum from The Lord of the Rings.The way hecradled the coffee and sipped? I kid you not; if he said  My precious, Imight have just turned and run.After a few tentative swallows, hepopped open the aspirin and downed a handful as if they were candyand then lay back down on the couch, putting the washcloth over hiseyes. Thank you, he croaked. Taking Chances 117 All part of the service here at the Days Inn, I mumbled as I satback and watched him lie there.After about a minute, he looked outfrom under the washcloth and glanced over at me.I waved at him. Hi,still here.Sighing, he covered his eyes again and asked,  Where s Brad? Not dead on my couch, I answered quickly [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]