American Dreamer

by Shawn Wesley Ballenger

  “Okay,” Channing replied as they both ran towards opposite ends of the building.

  Making it to class in the nick of time, Channing sat at his computer terminal in freshman English, trying to compose an essay about Lee’s views on racism in To Kill a Mockingbird. Still, his mind kept drifting back to Logan. He stopped typing and stared dreamily at the monitor. The sound of his phone vibrating in the pocket of his backpack shook him from his thoughts. He reached down and grabbed it.

  The screen stayed blank for several seconds. Channing laid it face down on the table and started typing again. A few seconds later, it vibrated.

  There was a brief pause.

  The last message exploded with animated fireworks. Channing smiled.

  Bouncing through the front door, Channing pitched his backpack on the couch, and headed straight for the kitchen, a grin plastered on his face. I’ve got my first date with a guy! He thought to himself. And not just any guy, the hottest guy in school! He could not believe his luck.

  “What’s shakin’, guys?” He asked as he blew into the kitchen, and made a beeline towards the refrigerator, taking just a moment to glance at Tommy and Kathy sitting at the table studying what looked like blueprints.

  Kathy removed her reading glasses, laid them on the table, and looked up, “I think someone had a good day.”

  Channing opened the door, bent over slightly, and grabbed the carton of orange juice.

  “What makes you say that?” He threw his head back and began drinking directly from the container.

  “Yo, dude! I drink that, too, you know.” Tommy huffed.

  Channing guzzled down the rest before holding up the empty carton and shaking it.

  “All gone.” He smiled at Tommy as he did a jump shot with the empty container into the trash can. “Score!”

  “You know? Our grocery bill has tripled since you moved in.” Tommy complained.

  Sorry, Dad,” Channing decided to go for the new name, hoping Tommy would not be weirded out by it, “but I’m so damn hungry all the time. I can eat a whole pot of Mom’s spaghetti and still have abs like these. Being fourteen is so awesome!”

  “Shut up.” Tommy chuckled. “At least I can vote.”

  Channing scrunched up his face. “I hate politics.” He closed the door and struggled to reach the party size bag of cheese puffs from the top of the refrigerator, finally resorting to jumping up and grabbing them. “What are you guys looking at?”

  “Blueprints,” Tommy answered.

  “For what?” Channing tore open the bag.

  “We’re thinking about doing some remodeling.” Tommy picked up the pencil and started marking on the plans.

  “Ooh! Can we add a weight room?” Channing leaned forward eagerly. “What about a hot tub? Yeah, that would be fun.”

  He popped a cheese puff in his mouth. Tommy and Kathy look at him and then looked at each other.

  “What?” Channing’s eyes scanned back and forth between the two grinning faces.

  “You’re definitely fourteen.” Kathy smiled.

  “Pfft.” Channing leaned back and waved his hand dismissively. “Okay. Maybe that’s a little too much. But can we please remodel my room? Every morning I expect to wake up next to Blanche Deveraux.”

  “It is very Golden Girls, isn’t it?” Kathy laughed.

  Tommy laughed. “I suppose we could do it this weekend.”

  “Great.” Channing stood and gave Tommy a serious look. “Oh, and Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for being a friend.” Channing smiled.

  “Get out of here!” Tommy threw his pencil at him as Channing threw his head back and howled with laughter as he exited the kitchen.

  On Friday night, Logan found himself wiping his feet on the doormat outside Tommy and Kathy’s house. Lowering his head, he shook his drenched mop of curls like a shaggy dog after an unwanted bath. He then ran his hand through the curly strands and pushed them from his face. He brushed the water from his arms and reached for the doorbell, pressing it nervously. Moments later, the door opened.

  “Oh. Hello.” A petit lady with waist-length brown hair greeted him.

  “Mrs. Burkhart?” He tilted his head, assuming this was Channing’s aunt.

  “Yes.” She replied, giving the soaked teen a once over.

  Logan gave her his best smile. “Hi. I’m Logan Greenwood. I’m a friend of Channing’s.”

  “Oh.” A smile instantly appeared on her face. “Yes. I’ve heard a lot about you. Please come in.”

  Logan wiped his boots on the welcome mat and entered. “It’s raining buckets out there.”

  He made sure his feet were completely dry before stepping on the carpet. Kathy closed the door.

  “Yes, it is. A real monsoon.” She laughed and noticed the water beaded on his face. “Let me get you a towel.”

  “Thanks, ma’am,” Logan said as Kathy scurried off to the bathroom.

  Logan looked towards the black leather recliner, where a thoroughly relaxed Tommy had his feet up and was laughing at the huge seventy-inch flat-screen hanging on the wall. Logan glanced at the TV, where one of his favorite movies of all time was playing, and instantly fell into the story. Moving cautiously to the living room, Logan stopped near the sofa and turned towards Tommy, who was clad only in boxers.

  “How’s it going, Mr. Burkhart?” He smiled, feeling a bit nervous since the last time they had seen each other, Channing and Corbin had been wasted.

  Tommy’s intense focus on The Goonies shattered, and he glanced up. “Oh. Hey, Logan.”

  Logan deduced from his tone that he seemed not to be harboring any bad feeling towards him.

  “What are you two up to tonight?” Tommy indicated that Logan should take a seat.

  “Chan and I are going to go catch a movie,” Logan replied as he sat down on the leather sofa, making it a point to not clue Tommy in that he was, in fact, on a date with his nephew.

  Tommy raised his brow, sending Logan into a nervous panic. “I hope we don’t have a repeat of last time you two were out together.”

  Logan quivered as he shook his head at the much larger man. “I promise, sir, there will be no alcohol. We're going to a movie, and maybe to eat at Chili’s afterward is all.”

  “Cool.” Tommy switched to a smile and returned his attention to the screen.

  Logan sighed silently, his eyes focusing on the kids in the movie sliding down the water tunnel, and into the hidden cove with One-Eyed Willie’s ship, The Inferno.

  “This is in my top five favorite movies of all time.” Logan declared. “I know I’ve seen it at least twenty times.”

  Tommy folded his arms behind his head and leaned back. “I saw it the day it came out in the theater back in the Summer of ‘85. My best friend and I watched it and Back to the Future at least two dozen times that summer.” Tommy smiled, remembering him and Channing taking The Brown Bitch to every theater in the tri-county area except for the days when the car was broken down in Channing’s driveway, which was often. He smiled to himself, realizing that even in his own thoughts, he now just considered Brandon to be Channing.

  “Back to the Future is another great one!” Logan started to relax as Kathy entered the room, a fluffy pink towel in hand.

  “Here you go.” She said as she walked around the couch and held it out for Logan.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Burkhart,” Logan said as he took the towel and began drying his hair, which was much curlier than usual thanks to the weather.

  “Call me Kathy, please.” She gave him a pleasant smile as she waited for him to return the towel.

  “Yes, ma’am. I mean…Kathy.” Logan looked up and smiled as he finished drying his hair and handed the towel back to her.

  Kathy turned her head towards her husband and scoffed. “Tommy. At least put some pants on. We have a guest.”

  “It’s just one of Chan’s friends. It’s not like its Prince Charles or somebody.” He laughed, glancing towards Kathy’s Royal
Family Commemorative Plate collection housed in her curio cabinet.

  Kathy pursed her lips, causing Logan to chuckle.

  “I’m going to read.” She turned and stomped towards the bedroom.

  As soon as she left the room, Tommy turned to Logan, “Oops, guess I won’t be getting any tonight.” He shrugged, causing Logan to laugh out loud.

  Maybe Mr. Burkhart isn’t such a prude, after all, Logan thought.

  “Forget that last comment.” Tommy apologized. “I forget I’m supposed to be a role model for impressionable teens now.” He smiled.

  "It’s okay, sir.” Logan laughed and turned back to the television.

  “Is Cam joining you guys?” Tommy grabbed his Coke from the table next to his chair.

  “Nah. We’re seeing Demonhouse. Cam doesn’t appreciate horror like Chan and I do.” Logan settled comfortably into the corner of the sofa and stretched his arm along the back.

  “I’m with Cam on that one. Brandon used to drag me to every horror movie that ever came out.” Tommy recalled Channing talking him into seeing Poltergeist when they were thirteen. It scared him so badly, he slept with a chair under the doorknob of his closet for months.

  “Brandon. That’s Cam’s dad, right?” Logan focused on Tommy, who looked as he was deep in thought about the past.

  “Um…yeah,” Tommy answered, Logan interrupting his trip down memory lane.

  “I hate that about Mr. Daniels. I know Cam misses him a lot.” Logan frowned, turning his attention back to the TV

  “Brandon was the best. He just had lots of problems.” Tommy sighed.

  “Yeah. Sounds like it.” Logan’s said.

  Footsteps caught Logan’s attention, and he turned his head back to see Channing exiting the hallway. His eyes went immediately to the very tight, dark blue T-shirt that showed off Channing’s nice toned pecs. They went down to Channing’s tight skinny jeans that rode rather low on his waist, revealing the top of his Calvin Klein boxers, and a sliver of skin between them and the hem of his shirt.

  Channing shyly rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, causing the shirt to ride up, revealing his toned abs. He smiled nervously, hoping Logan didn’t think he dressed too flamboyantly, but then again, he proudly wore his rainbow Franklin High LGBTQ Club wrist band, having made up his mind that he would never hide his sexual orientation for anyone, including Logan.

  Logan stared briefly before his face lit up, indicating to Channing that he approved.

  “Hey.” Channing greeted him with a goofy grin.

  “Hey.” Logan grinned, stood up, and turned to face him.

  “I like your…shirt.” Channing tried to sound casual, but his excitement for his first date with Logan made him giddy.

  “Thanks.” Logan glanced down at his chest-hugging red Polo, then gave Channing a slight wink.

  “So. Logan says you’re going to see a horror flick?” Tommy interrupted the disguised display of teenage lust.

  “Yeah,” Channing answered, checking out Logan’s tight distressed jeans. “This one is supposed to be one of the scariest movies of the year.”

  “Well, you guys can have all that you want. I’ll stick to the classics.” Tommy looked back to the TV, checking out One-Eyed Willie’s skeleton.

  Logan looked down at his watch and back up to Channing. “We need to get going. The movie starts in twenty minutes.”

  “Yeah. You’re right.” Channing couldn’t take his eyes off his secret first date as he moved towards the door.

  “Remember your eleven o’clock curfew.” Tommy reminded Channing.

  “Can we make it eleven-thirty, Dad?” He gave Tommy his best puppy dog eyes, hoping that the continued use of the new term of endearment, combined with his sad expression, would convince Tommy to give in.

  Tommy smiled and obliged. “I guess. Just stay out of trouble.”

  “Trouble? Why, Dad, I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

  “Go!” Tommy pointed at the door. “Before I change my mind and make it ten.”

  Channing made it only a few feet before Tommy stopped him.

  “Wait.” Tommy grabbed his wallet from the side table, opened it, reached in for a twenty-dollar bill, and held it out to Channing. “In case you need it.”

  “It’s okay, Dad. I got money. Remember, I’m co-owner of a mowing business.” Channing smiled and looked at him with appreciation.

  “I know, but you were supposed to ask for money, and by tradition, I’m supposed to complain, then give it to you.” Tommy smiled, thinking of every family sitcom he’s ever seen.

  Channing smiled a moment and decided to entertain him. “Dad. Can I have some money?”

  Tommy grumbled before saying his line. “I suppose. Here you go.”

  Channing walked over and took it. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”

  “Be careful, Son.” Tommy grinned from ear to ear as Channing realized his former best friend relished his new role as his father.

  Hopping into Logan’s truck in the middle of a downpour, they quickly shut the doors. Logan reached in the back seat, grabbed one of his workout shirts, and threw it at Channing.

  “Here. Use this.” Logan suggested.

  “Thanks.” Channing grabbed it and wiped his face, noticing the shirt gave off the pungent smell of Logan’s musk mixed with his cologne and felt himself getting turned on. He dried his arms with it before pulling down the visor and spiking his hair back up. “You nailed it on the rain.” He flipped up the visor and handed the shirt back to Logan.

  “Told ya’.” Logan laughed as he dried his hair once again. “It’s at the end of the monsoon season in Arizona. I noticed you called your Uncle Tommy ‘Dad’?”

  “Yeah…well,” Channing began as he buckled his seatbelt, “he and Aunt Kathy have been more like parents to me the past couple of months than my own parents ever were, and it just seems right. Not to mention the fact that Uncle Tommy gives in to me when I call him ‘Dad.’”

  Logan laughed as he buckled up and started the engine. “Nice.”

  “I’m kidding. It’s just, it’s nice to finally feel like I’m part of a family again.” Channing watched as Logan turned the wipers on full speed.

  “That’s great, Chan.” Logan smiled and pulled onto the street. “Do you think they might legally adopt you?”

  “Wow. Honestly, I never thought about it.” The thought of legal adoption had never occurred to him, or if it could even be done since he legally existed only as a dead person. “I suppose if they wanted to, I’d be for it.”

  “That’s cool,” Logan said as he squinted to see through the downpour.

  Channing glanced sideways at Logan. The whole idea that he was on his first date with a guy, and not just any guy, the guy that every girl in high school wanted to date, blew his mind.

  Logan’s eyes shot right and met Channing’s. “What?”

  “Just,” Channing grinned. “I still can’t believe we’re on a date.”

  “Well, believe it, ‘cause we’re doing dinner and a movie, and by definition, that is a date.” Logan reached over and gently rubbed Channing’s leg. “You look really good, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” Channing blushed. “I was hoping it wasn’t too gay for you.”

  “No. I like seeing your abs, besides you’re just being yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Logan gave him a reassuring smile. “By the way, are all the Burkhart men hot?”

  “What do you mean?” Channing raised his eyebrows.

  “Dude. Your dad,” Logan chuckled. “He looks good for his age.”

  “Oh, God.” Channing rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Don’t ever tell him that. His head is big enough as it is.”

  Logan laughed loudly and began rubbing Channing’s leg, causing Channing to take a deep breath.

  “You like that?” Logan asked, trying to steal glances at Channing while also keeping his eyes on the road.

  “Yeah. It,” Channing looked down at Logan’s hand, “tur
ns me on.”

  Channing felt himself growing to full mast.

  Logan winked. “I can move it.”

  Channing looked up at him and smiled. “No. You’re good.”

  “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you. What’s up with the tattoo? I thought you had to be like sixteen to get one?” Logan changed the subject, leaving his hand in place.

  Channing thought about the Celtic Knot tattoo on his right shoulder blade—the byproduct of Brandon Daniels’ midlife crisis that had not disappeared during the regression. He recalled how Corbin shit bricks the first time he saw it, mainly because he wanted one himself, but no one else that had seen it had asked him about it. He had prepared his cover story because he knew sooner or later, someone would ask. Thankfully, Cam had never seen the tattoo on his father’s back, and if he had, he hadn’t been old enough to remember it so that he would recognize it if he saw it again.

  “My birth mother had a boyfriend who was a tattoo artist. When I was twelve, I picked out one, and he did it for me.” He looked down at his knee and put his hand on top of Logan’s and squeezed.

  “And your mother didn’t shit bricks?” Logan interlocked his fingers with Channing’s.

  “Mom was passed out on the couch at the time.”

  “Damn!” Logan’s eyes bulged.

  “Eh. She didn’t care.” Channing shrugged, recalling in the original Internet article he gleaned the story from, that the meth-head boyfriend posted a pic on social media and got arrested for child endangerment.

  “You weren’t kidding about your life before moving here.” Logan frowned.

  “No. It wasn’t good.”

  A few moments of silence passed as Logan realized he had brought up a bad subject. He removed his hand from Channing’s knee to adjust the wipers to a slower speed as the rain let up.

  “You look really hot, too, by the way.” Channing glanced at the tight shirt stretched across Logan’s delicious pecs and gave Logan a big smile.

  “Thanks,” Logan turned and smiled back, intertwining his fingers with Channing’s once again.