by Jon Keys
“Hey!” Sam squealed. “Don’t put that crap on me.”
Gordy grabbed another handful and shoved it down the back of Sam’s shirt. The prickly bits set Sam’s back to itching as he yanked his sweatshirt up and tried to shake out the debris. After a moment of irritation, he couldn’t help but be affected by Gordy’s impish grin.
Sam grabbed hay from the floor and showered it over Gordy. He even got the hay down the front of his shirt. Gordy growled, pawing at the hay covering his head before ripping up his shirt and brushing at his chest. After a few seconds, he narrowed his focus on Sam.
“You little shit! I’ll get you now!”
Sam took off for the door. He had no chance of escaping Gordy, but their good-natured fun was making him happier than he had been in a long time. About then, Gordy grabbed his sleeve and spun him to a stop. By now Sam was laughing and enjoying their play. When Gordy got two hands on Sam’s shirt, he twisted and slipped out of it.
“There you go, Mister Hot Football Player. Think you can catch me now?”
“Oh, your ass is so mine!” Gordy lunged at Sam, throwing his shirt to one side. Sam yelped and dodged, narrowly missing Gordy’s attack. He spun again, but Gordy’s years of catching fleeing quarterbacks played to his advantage. Gordy wrapped his rough arms around Sam’s chest, and in the next instant, they landed on the hay-buried barn floor. Gordy pinned Sam’s face as he rolled on top.
“Got you, you butthole!” Gordy said with a deep chuckle.
Sam tasted the tint of bile in the back of his throat and the tightening in his chest.
“Gordy, get off. Get off me.”
“Oh no, not until you admit I am the undeniable winner for all time.”
Sam fought to keep the panic under control, but when Gordy shifted his weight, trapping Sam under him, the fear surged forward. “Get off. I mean it, Gordy. Get off me! I can’t breathe.”
“What’s the matter? Do you not like being tackled? Make me move. You can do it.”
Sam lost the last shreds of his control. Flashbacks filled him and Gordy’s pleasant heat became something else. He screamed. “Get off me! Get off me now! You’re not going to do it again! I won’t let you. I won’t.” Sam’s emotions were in tatters and hot tears rolled down his cheeks.
Gordy flew off, kneeling beside him. “Sam? You okay, man? Sorry. I thought we were fooling around.” Gordy reached down to help Sam.
“Don’t touch me. Give me a minute. Please,” Sam said as he tried not to hyperventilate. A few seconds passed and Sam got to his knees, pressing his forehead against the ground, then eased himself to his feet. He glanced over to Gordy, who was pacing back and forth like a hyperactive kid.
“What happened? I thought we were just goofing around. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Sam shook his head, coming to a decision. “You didn’t hurt me, but I have a few—emotional landmines.” He met Gordy’s panicked eyes. “Let’s go into the trailer. I don’t want to discuss what happened while we are in the barn.”
“Okay, whatever you say.”
Sam frowned as he led the way. In complete silence, Sam sat down while Gordy dug in the fridge for a moment and poured him a glass of orange juice. He disappeared into the bedroom and came back pulling on a T-shirt and handed Sam a jersey.
“This isn’t a conversation to have without shirts.”
Sam nodded. “Probably a good idea.” He caught Gordy’s gaze. “You don’t know me very well. You sure you want to have this discussion? We’re likely to be in the too-much-information zone.”
“You’re a good guy, Sam. If you want someone to listen, I’m willing to be that person. If we’re going to hang out, it would probably be good if I understood better.”
Sam nodded as his heart pounded faster. He ran his tongue over his parched lips and tried to gather his thoughts. This was going to be difficult. He took a drink of his orange juice then stared at his hands. “I had something happen in high school. It makes it hard for me to do some stuff.”
Gordy stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m trying to not be stupid here, but I’m not following.”
Sam shook, moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes. “This is hard—really hard.”
“It’s okay to tell me. I swear it won’t change anything.”
“This will change everything.” Sam’s laugh had a brittle edge. His stomach roiled as he thought through how he would explain.
“I was assaulted in high school. It fucked up my head. If people get too close or start touching me, I can’t take it. Someone trapping me? Well, you saw how I lost my shit.”
Gordy watched him for a minute, a frown growing on his face before he asked the question Sam dreaded. “What did they do to you, Sam? What happened?”
Sam’s laughter had a sharp edge to it. “I was raped, Gordy. Three guys from the football team. They held me down and raped me. Took turns.” Sam wrapped his arms around himself. He thought Gordy started to try to comfort him and shuddered. But Gordy clenched his fingers onto the table and didn’t move. It was a minute before either of them spoke.
“That’s horrible,” Gordy said with a pained expression.
“I’ve only told a few people. But it seems to keep affecting what we do. I’ve been going to the counseling services office for a while and some things are improving, but”—he turned to Gordy, needing to clear the air between them—“you’re a nice guy and have been patient when I’ve went off.”
“I’m not sure what to say, Sam. I’m glad you felt safe to tell me, even though we haven’t known each other that long.”
“You’ve been understanding through all the crisis moments and the whole gay thing. It had to be weird for you.”
Gordy fell silent, dropping his gaze and avoiding looking at Sam. After a few moments, Sam let out his held breath. “I read it all wrong, didn’t I? Hey, I’m sorry about freaking you out with my garbage. I’ll get my stuff and—”
Gordy reached across the table and squeezed Sam’s hand. When their eyes met, it surprised Sam to find a fearful expression. He lifted a brow as he tried to puzzle out what was wrong. Before Sam could say anything further, Gordy started talking.
“I guess we both have our secrets. Mine have been hidden for a long time and I need to tell someone. Someone to talk to, you know? It’s personal. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it between the two of us. I know it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to you, but it’s a huge thing for me.”
Sam frowned, uncertain where this conversation was going. But Gordy seemed to be building to something important. “Tell me, Gordy. I promise it will just be between the two of us.”
Gordy took a deep breath and blurted out. “I’m gay.”
Sam sat stunned for a moment before he leaned forward. “You’re gay?”
The dam seemed to have burst for Gordy as it spilled out. “Yes, I’m gay. I like dudes. I’m not sure why I thought this was the right time to talk about it and you were the right person to tell. I do think what happened to you was horrible. Oh God. I’m not trying to grandstand. It just came bubbling out. Only a few friends know. Sorry to fall apart like this.”
Sam couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle. “Seems like we both have a shitload of things we’re dealing with. It’s not a competition. I’ve told you about all my issues—well, as much as I want to talk about them right now. But you—”
“This isn’t something new. I’ve known I liked guys since before high school. Football scholarships paid for tuition and the side jobs like tutoring help with the bills. I’ve heard too many derogatory comments made about gay guys over the years.”
“You’re coming out is your decision. I would never out you. I promise.”
Gordy nodded then smiled at Sam. “That was the reason for all the stammering and stuttering when you told me you were gay. I wanted to tell you then, but I was afraid.”
Sam grinned. “It’s all good. It’ll help keep the weirdness from the conversation now
that we know each other better.”
Gordy patted Sam’s hand and smiled. “We better get back to homework. I have a bunch due before Thanksgiving.”
Sam shrugged. “I have to work on Black Friday. And dark gray Saturday. And pale red Sunday.”
Gordy chuckled. “Yeah, I have to take care of the wheat-grass steers. The undergrad research assistant gets the crap assignments, so I’m here all weekend, too. It looks like turkey and dressing TV dinner for the holiday.” He considered Sam for a minute before continuing. “Since we’re both stuck here, do you want to come out and have Thanksgiving with me? I’m not a bad cook, but I only know how to make massive quantities of holiday food.”
Sam grinned and licked his lips. “Turkey and dressing?”
“Yup. Turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy…the works.”
Sam considered for a moment before breaking into a grin. “I could bring pumpkin pie. Don’t worry. I’ll buy it.”
“You bet. Pies are good.”
Chapter Seven
A gust of wind caused the metal siding of Gordy’s trailer to crackle, and ice pellets popped against the tiny kitchen window. It distracted him, but a few seconds later he refocused on the food they had been cooking all morning. He hadn’t expected to enjoy the meal that much. But Sam was relaxed, and they’d enjoyed their time together.
Sam glanced up from the corner chair and Gordy grinned at him. “We made enough to feed about ten people. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starved. I’ve been drooling since I got here. It smells delicious.”
Gordy filled the table until he had to put the last platters on the counter. He poured them each a glass of tea and sat across from Sam. “Did I miss anything?”
Sam chuckled. “I can’t imagine what you might have forgot. You were right. You have enough food to feed my whole dorm floor.”
“Want to invite them?” Gordy asked, enjoying the feelings of satisfaction washing through him. He considered Sam a close friend.
“No! They can find their own man who wants to cook for them. They can’t have mine.” There was an awkward pause and Sam flushed.
Gordy dismissed his comment with a wave of his hand. “No worries. I enjoy cooking for someone who likes my food. Dig in.”
After Gordy emptied his third plate, they slowed down. By the time Sam finished his last plate, he was stuffed. He stretched and groaned.
“That was delicious. I ate way too much.”
Gordy burped then grinned at Sam. “Excuse me. I’m stuffed.” He glanced around before meeting Sam’s gaze. “You want dessert? That pie you brought looks delicious.”
Sam groaned and grabbed his stomach. “If I eat anything else, I’ll pop. Let me help clean up and take care of everything. Dinner can settle then we can see if we want pie.”
“Sounds like a plan.” They put the food away, although they had eaten much of what Gordy prepared. After he shoved the last container of leftovers into the fridge, he glanced outside before turning toward Sam.
“Seems to be snowing a little. You can stay in here and keep warm. It won’t take me long to feed and water the animals.”
Sam grinned and rubbed his stomach. “Sitting around here won’t help work off all the food I ate.” He wriggled his way from behind the table and put on his hoodie. As he zipped up the light jacket, Gordy chewed the inside of his lip. Sam noticed Gordy’s quizzical expression. “What’s wrong?”
Gordy glanced outside to the now-blowing snow then back to Sam. “It’s windy. I have a heavy work coat you can use. I might have worn it twice, but I swear I didn’t get anything on it.”
Sam glanced out to see white flakes falling sideways. There was a moment’s hesitation before Sam nodded. “Yeah, I’ll take you up on that offer. It seems like it’s colder than when I got here.”
Gordy opened a small closet and pulled out a reddish-brown coat that appeared—and felt—like canvas. Sam tugged it on, closed the zipper and laughed. The coat came almost to his knees and the sleeves hid his hands, like a kid wearing his dad’s clothes. He cracked up laughing.
“Well, at least it’ll be warm, even if you look like a little kid,” Gordy said.
Sam flapped his arms for a moment before he stopped teasing Gordy and rolled up the sleeves. Soon they were out the door with Sam headed for the stable and Gordy for the barn with a fifty-pound bale in each hand. A few well-practiced maneuvers and Gordy had the animals fed and ready for the coming storm.
It relieved Gordy that Sam didn’t come to the barn to help. Last time’s disaster was fresh on his mind. The wind screamed past him, and he secured the coat collar tightly around his neck. As he made his way through the pens, Sam raced to the trailer. Gordy couldn’t help but chuckle. He looks like a kid playing dress-up in adult clothes. But the wind carried tiny drops of rain and Gordy found he was much more interested in reaching the house rather than speculating about Sam. By the time he made it into the trailer, he found Sam curled up with Gordy’s coat around him like a thick blanket.
“Damn, it’s cold out there,” said Sam.
Gordy rubbed his hands together to get some warmth into them before taking off his coveralls and tossing them onto his bed. The heat of the room soaked into him as he put a few plates on the counter. He glanced over to find Sam watching him and smiled. “I thought it was time for dessert. A piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream?”
Sam grinned but didn’t turn down the offered sweets. Gordy handed him the filled plate and dropped into the other seat with a huge portion of pie covered in a mound of whipped cream. He ran his spoon into the pile and was lifting the huge piece to his lips when he saw Sam’s smirking face.
“What?” Gordy asked.
“Do you like a little pie with your whipped cream?”
Gordy’s eyes twinkled as he popped the spoonful into his mouth and munched. Once he’d swallowed the bite, he answered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sam giggled. The second he did, he cringed. It was a giggle.
Gordy found it cute and endearing. He ducked his head and didn’t make eye contact. He didn’t want to embarrass Sam any further. Gordy enjoyed spending time with Sam. More and more, their time together was pleasant and relaxing. He wasn’t going to spoil the moment. It was too good. The quiet stretched out as the last of their meal disappeared.
Sam leaned back and grinned. “Not bad homemade pie. What do you think?”
“Yeah, and you did such a good job boxing it and putting the fancy design on the crust.”
“Nothing but the best for my football buddy.”
A pleasant warmth washed over Gordy at Sam’s words. He’d never allowed himself to be close to anyone until he’d met his best friend, Nate. Not that he didn’t have other friends, but he had a connection with Sam he’d never experienced before. He’d always considered Sam handsome, but his bravery in the middle of all the crap he was dealing with seemed admirable. He was startled to realize Sam was watching him.
Sam held out his empty plate and grinned. “How about another piece of delicious pie?”
Gordy grinned and took the dish. “No problem, boss.” The knife flashed a few times before Gordy gave them each another helping. Gordy stood with one hip against the counter as he ate. He turned to slip his plate in the sink when he peered outside. The trees made low creaking noises and were coated with a thick layer of shimmering ice. “Crap! Looks like we’re having a heck of an ice storm.”
Sam slid off the seat and moved beside Gordy. He watched for a minute and his face twisted. “I better go now before it gets worse.”
“I don’t know. It seems bad already. You might want to stay.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll take it easy.”
Gordy questioned Sam’s choice, but he seemed determined to leave, regardless. He frowned a little. “Take my coat with you, in case something happens and you’re stuck in the car.”
Sam considered for a minute before he nodded. “Okay. That’d probably be a go
od idea.” He gathered a few things and headed for the door. Sam grabbed the handle and pushed, but nothing moved. He turned to Gordy. “What’s up with the door?”
Uncertain what was wrong, Gordy grabbed the knob and pushed. Nothing moved for him, either, and he was afraid he knew what was wrong. This time, when he twisted the handle and threw his weight against the door, it popped open to a crystalline landscape.
It stunned Gordy. Everything had an ice coating. Tree branches bent under the weight until they touched the ground. The rain wasn’t lessening either. He turned to Sam. “You’re not going to make it to campus. It’s bad. It’s not safe to drive back tonight. You can stay here. When do you report for work tomorrow?”
Sam peered through the open door in time for an overloaded branch to snap with an explosion filling the yard. He frowned and turned to Gordy. “It’s not safe to drive, but where would I sleep? If I can get to campus—”
Gordy interrupted. “Don’t be crazy. I can take you into town tomorrow morning after some of the ice melts. The four-wheel drive will handle it better than your little beetle bug.” He motioned to the dark house a few yards away. “The Clarks are gone for the weekend and I don’t have a key to the house.” He shot Sam a grin. “It seems they don’t trust college students with the keys.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Figures. Faculty are such weird-ass people.” He glanced around the trailer. “Where would I sleep?”
“The table makes into a bed. It drops to the seat and the cushions rearrange.”
“Looks like you’re stuck.” He glanced around. “What do you want to do?”
Gordy opened a drawer, brought out a new deck of cards and tossed them to Sam. “Ever played Spit?”
* * * *
Sam woke with a shiver. The room was pitch black—not the regular darkness of night. This was different. He couldn’t see anything. A few seconds later, the cold had him shivering.
“Sam?”
It comforted him. At least he wasn’t spinning off into one of his night terrors. “Gordy? Why is it so dark? And so cold. I’m freezing.”