American Dreamer

by Shawn Wesley Ballenger

  Never in a million years did Brandon think his best friend Tommy, who was always down for just about anything, would have chosen this moment to start acting like a responsible adult.

  “Dude! Not so loud.” Corbin grabbed his head. “How can they ground you? They’re not your parents. You’re an adult!”

  “Not according to them.” Brandon stopped pacing and looked at Corbin.

  “Well, we did act stupid last night,” Corbin admitted as he squeezed his pillow

  “I know.” Brandon agreed. “I got carried away. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You weren’t thinking.” Corbin shrugged. “I was thinking, but I just didn’t give a shit.”

  Brandon sat down at the foot of the bed and looked at Corbin, thinking about what his friend had said.

  “You’re right, Corb.” He shot a defiant look towards the kitchen and extended both his middle fingers. “You hear that, Tommy? Here’s what I think of your responsibility.”

  Corbin held out his fist, which a rebellious Brandon bumped.

  Chapter Seven

  Two weeks had passed since Tommy laid down the law to Brandon in the form of a grounding for his wild night of partying. The first week, Brandon spoke minimally to his former best friend; although he still thought of him as a friend, the title of ‘best’ had been temporarily suspended. This led to awkward interactions at the dinner table when Brandon annoyed Tommy with the same infuriating game Cam used to play with him—the conveyance of minimal information in the form of one-word answers. Car rides with Tommy were the ideal time for earbuds when it came to passive-aggressively showing his feelings of betrayal. Brandon accepted Tommy and Kathy’s punishment but still did not believe it was fair for a former adult. In his dream of being a teen again, being grounded was definitely not part of the planned experience.

  Mitchell and Burkhart’s Mowing continued to grow as he and Corbin took on three more lawns over those two weeks. He stayed busy almost every evening after school, mowing the small ones by himself or doing the large ones with Corbin, which he preferred since it meant he got to hang out with his friend. Normally, after he and Corbin finished mowing, they’d get ice cream from the neighborhood truck and sit on the curbside enjoying their treats along with having animated discussions on their favorite topics of Doctor Who and cars.

  Football practice grew tougher, but Brandon held his own. The days of weightlifting from practice in combination with the cardio from mowing was paying off. The coach increased his practice time with the main starters, including Cam and Logan. Cam and Logan had begun to think of him as one of the guys, even though the age gap between them became much more apparent, especially when they would invite him to sit at the football table at lunch. The table consisted of mostly juniors and seniors who towered over him, making him feel like the only kid sitting at the adult table for Thanksgiving dinner. Most days, he preferred to sit with Corbin and his new friend, Michael, whom he had met in the LGBTQ Club.

  Cam still teased Brandon over his behavior at the party, chalking it up to first-time stupidity. One night during the grounding, Tommy was nice enough to invite Cam for dinner just to give him and Brandon time together, not forgetting about Brandon’s mission to become friends with his son. Cam accepted, and after dinner, he and Brandon played billiards in the game room.

  When the two weeks were up, Cam had extended an invitation to hang out with him and Logan and play video games. It was Monday after practice when Brandon exited the gym with them.

  “You want to ride with me?” Logan asked as he pulled his truck keys from his pocket.

  Brandon looked at Cam first, trying to decide if he should spend the short ten-minute drive with his son, or accept Logan’s offer. Finally, his desire for the hot senior with the bulging muscles in the tight tank top won out.

  “Sure,” Brandon replied as he slung his backpack over his shoulder.

  He followed Logan to his pickup, talking about football practice during the short walk. Brandon jumped in the cab and buckled up.

  “I’ll be so glad when I can drive,” Brandon said as he buckled his seat belt.

  “Can you drive?” Logan asked.

  “Of course,” Brandon spoke without thinking. Realizing that he might have come across too confident, he added. “Well, I mean, I’ve done it a couple of times.”

  Logan unsnapped his belt. “Drive.”

  “What?” Brandon’s eyes widened. “I don't have a license.”

  “So? It’s a short drive. It’s no big deal unless you crash.” He turned and winked before pushing the door open.

  “I don’t know.” Brandon looked at the steering wheel, wondering what Tommy would do if he found out he was driving, but then he remembered the words he had told Corbin two weeks earlier—'fuck responsibility.’

  “You chicken?” Logan teased.

  Brandon cocked his head. “I’ll show you chicken.”

  Logan laughed as they switched positions. Brandon clicked his seatbelt and pushed the start button. He reached down and smoothly put the truck in reverse as he checked his side and rearview mirrors before backing Logan’s truck from the parking spot. He shifted into drive and pressed the gas pedal, and with perfect turns, he maneuvered the truck from the school parking lot. He then stopped and looked both ways before pulling into the street.

  “Not bad, freshman.” Logan smiled.

  Brandon proceeded through a few more stops until he saw the freeway. Eyeing the on-ramp, his mind raced to decide whether he should take the slower, safer route through the neighborhood streets to Marcia’s house or the faster, riskier Interstate. The need to show off in front of Logan made it a no-brainer. He smiled mischievously and punched the gas, rocketing up the entrance to the six-lane speedway like a rocket sled on wheels.

  “You’re taking the Interstate?” Logan asked nervously, expecting Brandon to take his coveted pickup the safer route through the neighborhood backstreets.

  “It’s quicker.” Brandon glanced at him as he merged into heavy traffic.

  Logan held on tightly as Brandon accelerated to seventy miles per hour and began weaving in and out of traffic like a race car driver. “Damn, Chan.”

  “What?” Brandon checked his rearview mirror before passing a slow-moving minivan on the right. “Damn soccer moms driving in the fast lane.” He honked his horn, whipped his head to the left, and yelled, “Get out of the way!” He then turned back to Logan and smiled. “I hate stupid drivers.”

  “I…um…” Logan was at a loss for words. He watched the confident freshman drive like a professional racecar driver, overcome with desire. “Is there anything you can’t do?” He thought of Brandon’s bold dancing routine at the party, his bravery picking a fight with a guy three times his size, the impression he had made on the coach with his athletic abilities, and that cute way his lip curled when he smiled.

  “Flying airplanes.” Brandon interrupted Logan’s thoughts. “Next on the bucket list.” He laughed as he pulled up to the stoplight at the end of the exit ramp.

  “I’m sure you’ll be great at it,” Logan muttered.

  “You know it.” Brandon turned and winked.

  He pulled up in Marcia’s driveway to wait on Cam, who had taken the backstreets. Brandon killed the engine before popping his seatbelt and turning to smile at Logan. “No crash. All’s good in the hood.”

  Logan gazed longingly at Brandon. “Chan…there’s something I want to—"

  A sudden thump on his window made Logan jump. He turned to see a wide-eyed Cam and pressed the button to roll down his window.

  “What the hell, dude? You let Chan drive?” Cam stared in disbelief.

  “Yeah.” Logan snapped back to reality. “Freshman drives like he plays football.”

  “So, basically shitty.” Cam teased.

  “Screw you!” Brandon shot back.

  Cam laughed as Brandon and Logan got out and followed him into the house. Brandon noted that Lance wasn’t at his usual spot on the sofa a
s they passed through the living room.

  “Where’s Lance?” Brandon asked as he sat down on the floor to play Zombie Apocalypse.

  “Hopefully, eaten by that boa constrictor he keeps out back.” Said Cam as he turned on the Xbox and TV.

  “Boa Constrictor?” Brandon’s voice cracked. “Woah!”

  “Yeah, dumbass bought it last week. Mom won’t allow it in the house.” Cam sat down next to Brandon.

  “Dude! I hate snakes!” Logan took the spot by Brandon.

  “Yeah. So does Mom.” Cam said as he picked his character.

  Soon, the three of them were in online player versus player mode as soldiers against zombies.

  “Fucker!” Brandon yelled as a long-haired, rotten-tooth zombie named 4Trump2020 ripped his head off. “I would get killed by a Trump supporter.” He growled.

  “Well, only a mindless zombie would follow Trump,” Cam remarked. “I wonder if zombie dude sees the irony in that.” He tilted his head thoughtfully.

  “Not likely.” Brandon laughed. “No intelligence.”

  Logan smiled silently and kept playing as he occasionally cut his eyes to Brandon.

  Every now and again, Brandon felt Logan’s leg softly brush against his own. His body began to react in the form of a budding erection. Damn teenage hormones, he cursed himself.

  After the fourth time it happened, Brandon felt flush all over and needed to cool off.

  “Where’s your bathroom?”

  Cam, who never took his eyes off the game, pointed towards the door. “Down the hall. First door on the left.”

  Brandon strategically maneuvered himself so as not to expose his tenting jeans before standing up. Walking quickly to the restroom, he entered, slammed the door, and locked it. Leaning against it, he looked up and took a deep breath. His body tingled all over. He looked towards the sink. Quickly moving to it, he turned on the cold water and splashed it in his face and looked down at the front of his pants. Damnit! He paused. Dead kittens, saggy breasts. He glanced around the room. This décor.

  “Ugh. It’s not working!” He groaned in frustration. Dead kittens…

  Still nothing, he looked at himself in the mirror and started thinking about Logan’s hairy leg brushing against his knee—those defined calves that connected to those huge quads that led up to that certain area.

  “Screw it!” He said aloud as he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, yanked the zipper down and reached inside.

  Twenty seconds later, he moaned. “Oh…fuuuuck!”

  It took him another ten seconds to calm down before he proceeded to clean up his mess, feeling much less frustrated. Finished, he washed and dried his hands, flipped the lock, and opened the door. A male figure blocked his path, causing him to jump back.

  “Damn, dude.” He grabbed his chest at the sight of Logan. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  Logan had a serious look on his face.

  “What’s up?” Brandon gave him an uncertain smile.

  Logan put both of his hands on Brandon’s shoulders, pushed him back into the bathroom, and kicked the door shut with his foot.

  “What are you doing?” Brandon asked nervously.

  “Chan…I um…” Logan sputtered. “You…” He put his hand on his forehead, looked down and cursed. “I don’t…know…” He tried to speak. “Fuck it!” He looked up, grabbed Brandon by the head, pulled him forward, leaned down, and pressed his mouth against Brandon’s lips.

  Brandon felt shocked at first, his pulse racing. He’d never kissed another man in his entire life, although he’d fantasized about it for so many years. As Logan’s luscious lips pressed against his, Brandon’s body began to relax. He felt the stubble from Logan’s five o’clock shadow rub against his own smooth face in a new sensation that made him feel rebellious as if he was breaking the established rules to which his father had bound him. Coupled with Logan’s cologne, smelling of leather and musk, he felt intoxicated.

  The sudden erotic sensation of Logan’s tongue running along the part between his lips, drove him insane with desire as he parted them slightly, letting him enter, his breath quickening as teenage desire drove him to attack Logan’s tongue with his own. Their tongues wrestled in an erotic dance of uncontrolled lust, their breath coming in short bursts. The kiss was long and hard. Brandon felt elation as the missing piece of the mess that had been his life fell into place. He felt free of the pressure to conform that had driven him into a relationship he never wanted. He did not want the moment to end.

  “Holy shit!” Brandon grabbed his chest, trying to catch his breath when the kiss ended.

  Logan did the same, breathing in short bursts. “I’ve…been…wanting…to do that since…the first…time I saw you.” He paused and looked lustfully at Brandon. “You are so hot!”

  “So hot!” Brandon looked at Logan lustfully as he jumped forward, slung his arms around him, and pulled him down forcefully to attack his lips.

  Two minutes later, they broke again. They stared at each other for a few moments as they caught their breaths.

  Brandon chuckled. “Wow.”

  Logan swallowed hard and shook his head. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve wanted you since the first time I met you.”

  “Me too, Logan. I didn’t think you were gay.” Brandon confessed.

  “I’m…well…” Logan paused and looked at him with uncertainty. “I am…I know I am…I just—"

  “Couldn’t admit it to yourself?” Brandon knew exactly how he felt.

  “Yeah.” Logan frowned. “I—"

  “I know. I’ve been there myself.” Brandon admitted sadly.

  “I wasn’t sure about you until I saw you enter the LGBTQ Club meeting room last week.” Logan struggled. “I’ve walked by that door so many times trying to work up the courage to go into that room, but I couldn’t do it. Then I saw you do it and well…at least I knew you were like me.”

  “It’s okay, Logan. You have nothing to prove to anyone by stepping through that door, only yourself.”

  “I know, Chan. I just couldn’t hide the way I feel about you anymore,” He admitted. “I don’t know what it is about you.”

  “Is it my good looks or irresistible charm?” Brandon teased.

  Logan saw that cute little lip wrinkle, and it made him smile. “Both.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t figure out I liked you. You caught me checking you out in the locker room.” Brandon chuckled.

  “Well.” Logan smiled. “Yeah.”

  “I kinda knew you were not completely straight.” Brandon smiled.

  “How? I thought I hid it?” Logan sounded surprised.

  “Dude!” Brandon furrowed his brows and crossed his arms. “Let’s just say you put your hands on me—a lot.”

  Logan laughed. “I do.”

  Brandon laughed. “I’m just surprised a seventeen-year-old senior would be interested in a fourteen-year-old freshman.”

  “I don’t know. You seem older for some reason.”

  If you only knew, Brandon thought to himself, which led him to another thought. Oh, shit, what if Cam found out that his best friend and his father had the hots for one another? It could destroy everything. He’d never forgive me; neither would Logan. This isn’t a good idea. I’m here to make friends with Cam, not get involved with his best friend in some sort of gay teenage love affair.

  “What is it, Chan?” Logan asked.

  “We can’t do this.” Brandon looked towards the door.

  “Why not?” Logan was taken aback.

  “Does Cam even know you’re gay?”

  “Well,” Logan shrugged, “no. I…it’s a conversation I need to have with him.”

  “He’s your best friend, and he’s Uncle Tommy’s and Aunt Kathy’s godson. Can you imagine how he would react if he found out we had the hots for one another?”

  “It might not be good admittedly.” Logan brushed the hair back from his face in the way that drove Brandon absolutely wild.

  “It would b
e disastrous.” Brandon exaggerated, although he wanted Logan so badly it hurt.

  “Does he know you’re gay?” Logan asked as he thought he heard a noise from outside.

  “No. I’m not hiding it, but he’s never asked,” Brandon admitted.

  “Don’t you think you should tell him?”

  “Look who’s talking!” Brandon’s voice cracked.

  “Oh, shit. I know, dude.” Logan shifted nervously.

  “Do you think he wouldn’t accept that you and I are gay?” Brandon asked.

  “No. Cam’s not a homophobe. He’s open-minded.” Logan said, confirming what Brandon already felt he knew.

  “That’s what I thought, too.” Brandon was ninety-eight percent certain, but it was good to get confirmation from his son’s best friend. He continued. “Look, Logan. I really like you, but I don’t think Cam needs any more shit put on him right now.”

  “I know.” Logan frowned. “You’re right, Chan. He just buried his father a few weeks ago, and he’s just now starting to accept that.”

  “I know. It sucks Logan, but we need to think of Cam.” Brandon accepted that he needed to put his son’s needs above his own. After all, that’s what fathers do.

  Logan sighed. “I agree.”

  A louder door slam caused them both to go wide-eyed.

  “Oh, fuck!” Logan automatically turned towards the door. “Cam’s mother’s home.”

  Great. That’s just what I need, my ex-wife finding me in her bathroom making out with her son’s best friend. The thought ran through Brandon’s head.

  “Go!” Brandon pushed Logan towards the door. Logan cracked open the door and peered down the hall. The coast was clear.

  “Wait a minute before you come in.” Logan turned back and looked at him as he exited.

  Brandon nodded and waited at least a minute before he pulled himself together and casually strolled back to Cam’s bedroom. As soon as he walked in, Cam turned his head towards him.

  “Damn, dude, what took you so long?”

  “Had the shits.” Brandon tried to look serious as he checked out the, oh, so gorgeous Logan sitting on the floor next to Cam.