“Well,” I smacked my hands against my knees and stood up. I rummaged through the paint buckets, feeling Preppy’s eyes on me as I bent over to survey the tools at hand. “We’ll just need to fix that then won’t we?” When I turned back around I was holding a can of black spray paint, presumably what they’d used to darken the LOGAN’S BEACH lettering. “So what do you say?” I shook the can and it made that clacking sound that only spray paint cans made. “Shall we?”
“Another time, Doc. Come sit back down,” Preppy yawned and I reluctantly set down the paint and did as he asked, taking a seat in my spot just outside his shadowland.
“Did I do that?” he suddenly asked. Realizing I couldn’t see him he added, “Your neck, that was me wasn’t it.”
I shook my head. “No. I mean yes, you freaked out and went for my throat, but that just left some red marks. That was weeks ago. Those are all gone.” I covered the cut on my neck with my hand. “But this was from a fight with a weed-whacker. In case you didn’t already know...I didn’t win.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, sounding like he was in pain. He reared up on his feet in a crouched position, like he was either afraid to step into the light, or debating on staying or leaving.
“You don’t have to go,” I said, my voice a whisper.
A few seconds passed. A horn honked in the distance. “Will you lay with me?” he asked, sounding tired. “Just for a while? I haven’t been sleeping for shit.”
“Here?” I asked.
“Here. Turn around. On your side.”
I did as he asked and laid down on the cold platform onto my side facing away from him. He slowly moved up behind me, and then I felt him. The second his skin connected to mine it was like changing a lightbulb that had been burnt out for a long time. Bright and electric and warm was what I felt as he draped his arm over mine. His thumb brushed over my hand and I shivered. He exhaled in a deep sigh as if he could feel the new light between us. “We’re still the same you know,” he whispered.
I turned my head to ask him what he meant, but he stopped me with his hand, gently turning my face away from him. “Don’t look.”
“You don’t have to hide from me, Preppy. I’ve already seen you.”
“I know,” he replied, holding me tighter, and just like that I felt it. The light grew to a full electrical storm. There was a charge in the air, energy all around us. He laced his fingers with mine and I swear my heart stopped beating. “I know,” he repeated. He exhaled, his breath skating across the back of my neck, his lips against my skin. “But maybe I’m the one hiding from me.”
It was the last thing Preppy said before his breathing evened out. With Preppy wrapped around me I drifted off shortly after.
When I woke up the next day the sun was high in the sky, it’s hot rays burning holes in my retinas.
I was alone.
For a brief moment I thought it was all a dream until my eyes adjusted to the harsh light and landed on the newly spray-painted big black cock scrawled on the side of the tower.
CHAPTER SEVEN
PREPPY
I was beyond restless.
I’d decided that the reason I couldn’t sleep was because the mattress was too soft. I slid down to the floor, but I couldn’t turn off my mind. I only fell asleep for a short time on the tower with Dre, but it was the deepest sleep I’d gotten besides being in a fucking coma. When I woke up I spent a long time smelling her hair like the creep I was before deciding that the big black cock needed to make a comeback.
I was happy for her. For getting clean. For going to school. For wanting to help out her dad. No, I wasn’t happy, that wasn’t the right word.
I was PROUD.
But pride couldn’t stop the selfish thought that nagged at the back of my brain that missed when Dre was a junkie and a mess so that I could somehow come to her rescue again. There were two problems with that thought.
One, she didn’t need to be saved.
Two, I was in no fucking shape to be anyone’s knight.
Fuck, she was so beautiful.
Dre didn’t need a stitch of makeup. Her long lashes and plump pink lips made her a flawless natural beauty. The new glasses were like a nerdy bonus that brought more attention to her big dark eyes.
I wondered if she still wore the fifties style clothes, the heels, and my fucking favorite...the red lips.
I rolled onto my back and slid my hand down into my pants as I thought about those lips. I remembered what they felt like against mine. I regret never having had the chance to see them wrapped around my dick. I remember what her pussy tasted like more than I remembered what coffee tasted like. The noises she made when she was about to come assaulted my memory. That memory gave way to our first time. The way she fought back against me but loved every fucking second of it when I fucked her by the train tracks. It was then I realized she was almost as sick as I was. That moment of my life was better than any porn reel and over the years it had been my number one mental image to jerk off to. Yet after a few minutes my dick was still flaccid.
Not a twinge. Not a fucking spark.
I tugged on my balls and rubbed the sensitive strip of skin underneath them. I then brought my hand to my shaft and ran my palm over it, willing it back to life. I took a deep breath and thought about the way Dre’s tits bounced in my hand when I fucked her from behind. The way she moaned and tensed her thigh muscles when she was about to come.
Not a motherfucking thing.
I might have been alive, but my cock was still fucking dead.
I released my useless dick and let my head fall back against the carpet releasing a growl of frustration. It may not have gotten hard but I needed to come, to release. It was the only way I knew how to rid myself of the lingering bullshit in my brain and try to clear some space for all the other shit floating around up there.
You’re still healing, asshole. Get a fucking grip. I told myself.
When the sun was high in the sky and I could feel the heat of its rays through the closed window I finally gave up on both sleep, and a hard cock.
I made my way out into the living room.
The second I took that last step down I was assaulted by light. I shielded my eyes with my forearms from the onslaught coming through the front window. Using my palm to fight against the blinding rays, I shuffled over to the wall and reached out for the metal string so I could close the blinds, but it wasn’t there. Peeking through the slits in my eyes I realized the long off white plastic blinds that used to clank together when the air conditioning kicked on were no longer there. In their place was a more modern wooden shutter. I found the crank and turned it, sighing in relief when I again found myself in the comforts of the dark. I blinked rapidly to get rid of the stars still dancing behind my eyes.