Perie Wolford
Sam Dorsey & His Dirty Dancing
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“SAM DORSEY AND HIS DIRTY DANCING” by PERIE WOLFORD
“SAM DORSEY AND GAY POPCORN” series: BOOK 2
Copyright©2016
SAM DORSEY AND HIS DIRTY DANCING
Copyright © 2016 by Perie Wolford
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without prior written permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and events portrayed in this book are either products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
You’re reading SAM DORSEY AND HIS DIRTY DANCING, book 2 in the SAM DORSEY AND GAY POPCORN series. The series channel popular movies and TV shows, so expect a lot of references to classic movies of the 80es and 90es. But don’t worry this is not a fan fiction! The stories are 100% original and all the references are made only as a tribute.
This book, SAM DORSEY AND HIS DIRTY DANCING, channels the classic 1987 Dirty Dancing film. Also you might find references to Sex and the City television series.
Enjoy the dance!
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I am flying.
Above my head, the solid expanse of the clear blue sky is highlighted by the fierce, unhindered light of the sun which casts cheerful rays onto the rugged mountaintops down below. Beyond the mountains I can just barely make out the deep and serene waters of a lake, bordered on its shore by lush rainforest vegetation. Soon enough, the thick foliage of the forest thins out to reveal a vibrant meadow teeming with flowers so myriad and beautiful it nearly takes my breath away.
I marvel at the beauty of it all as I gaze dotingly from several-hundred feet above. I am flying but not on an airplane. Neither am I on a balloon or a paraglider or any other form of an airborne vehicle. No, it’s just me, flying. But I don’t realize how weird that is because I’m sleeping and it’s a dream.
I do not have control over this dream. I simply watch and listen as the steady spring-time breeze does its job of slowly nudging me along in this weird state of anti-gravity.
I am aware of a soft, rhythmic song playing directly into my ears, though I don’t have my headphones on. It cancels out the cadence of nature, which I can only assume is echoing all around me. I know the song. Poppies in the field by The Teardrop Explodes. A recommendation from Mitch, and I gotta say, I don’t hate it.
I close my eyes for the briefest of moments and ruminate in the smooth, rich sounds of the vocalist as he croons with reckless abandon.
The parachutes in my bag
I'm throwing it over to you
The parachutes in your hands
But don't ask me what to do
The poppies are in the field
But don't ask me what that means
The poppies are in the field
But don't ask me what that means
The trippy song is very befitting of my situation at the moment. Drifting through the air is an exhilarating experience, liberating in many ways. I feel weightless, as if there is no division between me and the vast landscape spread out before me. Nothing in the world could possibly hold me back or tie me down. I feel so free! This is amazing!
The world and I are one.
But if you think that I stopped having wet dreams, you’re wrong! Wait for it…
My euphoric dream suddenly takes a turn for the worse and starts hurtling me toward the hard green patch of earth several miles down below. I fall down!
Ahhh… Ohhh… Uhhh…
Here you go!
1
I jolt awake with a start, slowly coming to the sad realization that I am neither careless nor free. I’m just some loser with ejaculate all over his bed sheets. Shit! It happened again! It’s getting ridiculous at this point. I mean, my dream wasn’t even erotic!
Groaning, I disentangle myself, stand, and start stripping the bed. I bundle the sheets in my hands and make my way to the door. Normally, my mother does my laundry for me, but seeing as my little episodes are way too frequent, not to mention embarrassing, I’ve taken to cleaning up after myself.
The phone rings and I jerk my body awkwardly to the left to reach for it. In doing so, my leg collides with my bedside lamp, sending it tumbling towards the floor dramatically, almost as if in slow motion. I clutch the sheets tightly in my hands and watch as it shatters with a sad, tinkling sound akin to that of a furniture sigh.
Trying to avoid shards of glass, I tip-toe forward and pick up the phone.
“Hello?” I say dutifully, though I know it’s Mitch calling to wish me a happy birthday. My actual birthday is two days from now, but that happened to coincide with my cousin’s wedding so we had to reschedule. I didn’t want to risk celebrating it post facto, because that’s what my family did last year, and it didn’t work out well, me having all of that birthday drama there was. So I decided that celebrating it in advance would probably work better. Now though, as I’m looking at the shards of glass littering my bedroom floor, I’m getting the feeling I might be wrong.
“Happy birthday!” Mitch chirps cheerfully. I can feel his smile through the phone. There was a time when a smile from him was as rare as the ability to solve a Rubik’s cube without peeling off the stickers, but now they just ooze out of him like the juice of one of those oranges he’s always eating. He makes happiness look so easy. It is as if it takes no effort on his part to be ceaselessly perceptive, caring, and kind, all on all a perfect boyfriend.
I, on the other hand, am none of those things.
“Thanks,” I say, trying to sound happy. Nothing good ever happens on my birthday, but unlike in the past, this year I actually have something to lose.
Mitch immediately picks up on my anxiety, just as I knew he would.
“What? What happened?”
“Nothing… I’m fine.” It sounds like a lie, even to my own ears.
“Come on, spill,” he urges gently.
I sigh heavily and pick my way through the glass to plop down onto my sheetless bed.
“It’s nothing. I just broke my Startling comics lamp.”
“And you’re worried about what’s gonna happen next?” he guesses accurately.
“I guess so,” I admit, toying with the edge of the soiled s
heet crumpled in my lap.
“So, the lamp didn’t make it huh?” I glance over at it. He helped me pick it out a few months ago. Heck, it was practically a gift since I was about ten dollars short. Now it’s nothing more than another mess for me to clean up.
A spike of longing passes through me as I think back to the early days of our relationship. Yes, we had a wonderful time over summer, but since Mitch has always dreamed of going to Film Academy, his parents decided to move to Boston so that he could enroll in a preparatory school centered around arts and media to up his chances. Said city is only about an hour away from my hometown of Newton, but it may as well be overseas for the amount I get to see him.
Of course, neither I nor Mitch would break up over something so trivial, especially considering that I plan on majoring in film after high school too. Unfortunately, my parents aren’t as supportive as Mitch’s (at least where my career choice is concerned) and without them handling my tuition payment my chances of getting into Film Academy are slim to none. We’ve been fighting over that for a while now, but that’s a whole different story.
As far as my sex life with Mitch goes, it’s pretty much nonexistent. After he moved away, there weren’t many chances for us to see each other or even talk on the phone, but to be fair, before Mitch moved to Boston, we pretty much had the whole summer for ourselves and still, nothing happened, and not for lack of opportunities. For instance, in early June we spent an entire week camping with my family in the woods by the lake, during which Mitch and I spent hours hiking.
just the two of us.
in the middle of the wilderness.
Alone.
And it’s not like I’m not attracted to Mitch. Mitch is hot! It’s just...I don’t know, I feel like it’s not the right time or something.
I wanted it, or at least I thought I wanted it. But when push came to shove, something just clicked in my head and I suddenly couldn’t escape the feeling that it was wrong. I don’t mean that sex between two guys is wrong, no! I’m perfectly comfortable with the idea of two guys having sex. Just thinking about it gives me a boner. But there was something about Mitch, or me, or the moment. Something was wrong. I can’t put my finger on it but it just didn’t work the way it was supposed to work. I don’t know why really.
Or maybe I’m just chicken. Either way, Mitch, being the person he is, is totally cool with waiting for me to feel comfortable. The thing is, I don’t really know if I ever will feel comfortable. I just really don’t wanna think about my hesitation and what it might mean for our relationship. I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna like the answer if I do.
Mitch and I make a bit of small talk after that, but our conversation is over rather quickly. Mitch has to get ready for school, and I have to pack for my trip. Before he hangs up though, he assures me that everything is going to be just fine today, and I believe him. Mitch has never lied to me.
If only I could say the same for myself.
2
So I’m actually pretty glad I woke up early today since it allows me to slip out of the house unnoticed. Lately I’ve been kind of avoiding my parents, even though I love them and I know they wish me well. But we have our differences. And frankly, I hate being dependent on them. I just have to break free and do my own thing. This is my life after all. I’m the one who should be in control of it, not my parents.
However, when I get ready to hop into my car and beat it, I notice that the front tire has gone flat. Now, last year, I would’ve been completely devastated and beyond help right about now, but luckily, Mitch taught me how to change a tire while he was still here. I’m a little rusty, but I manage to get the spare on, climb in, hit the accelerator, and pull out of the driveway in less than twenty minutes. Not as fast as Mitch would’ve done it, but still, not too shabby.
Relaxing slightly, I ease myself into my forty-five minute drive out of the city.
Today is Friday and I’m skipping school and heading out to Crest Hollows mountain resort. The place is surrounded by mountains, and forest, and there’s this beautiful lake there too, but I’m not going there for a vacation. I’m working there actually. I’ve been spending all of my weekends (and a few school days) there for the last three months. It definitely helps with the whole, “asserting my independence” thing, but considering my friends Melissa and Kenan are also working there, it’s also a lot of fun.
Since it’s technically a ski lodge, and winter is pretty much done for, you’d think that business would be coming to a standstill, but nope; the beautiful scenery and luxe accommodations ensure that business is booming‒–which translates into more tips for me!
There is a downside, however.
Come tonight, the entirety of my family will be checking in to the lodge. I mean of all the places across our great and beautiful nation, my hard-headed cousin, Janine, decided that Crest Hollows resort three weeks past peak season is the ideal location for a wedding reception. Go figure.
From what I gather, she is holding the reception in the same dining hall as this Sunday’s Dance-Off. Same time too. So the guests of the wedding are gonna unwillingly become the audience for the dancing event. This, I assume is one of the reasons management gave her a totally smokin’ deal on the venue and the rooms. And the thing is, Janine a huge cheaposaurous. And apparently so is her hubby-to-be, Mark. Or maybe he is just following her instructions on that one. I mean, knowing Janine, I wouldn’t be surprised. She is extremely pushy.
The thing is most of our relatives live here in my home town and it would have been very expensive for them all to travel to the town where she currently lives, which is a good two-and-a-half hours car ride away. Also, the town where she lives now is a small town. From what I hear, they don’t have a lot of hotels there. They have about one motel and that motel is about two stars tops. So Janine had a choice between only inviting a select group of people, and missing out on an opportunity to receive the wedding gifts from the rest of them that way, or accommodating them all in her own house and the houses of her husband’s side of the family. That would mean, of course, that she would have to feed them and cover all the expenses. And as good as I know Janine, I’d say she’d rather put her hand into a pot with boiling water than do something like this.
So, naturally, she decided she’d rather have a wedding ceremony here, in our home town. Mike’s side of the family is apparently smaller, much smaller, so it would actually be cheaper for the few of them to travel here than for our big-ass family to travel there. But that’s enough about Janine. Let’s talk about something that’s been bugging me for a while now, something important.
Or shall I say, someone.
I pull off of the freeway and merge with the minimal backwoods traffic and smile contentedly as the familiar shape of the resort starts peeking out from beneath the trees. I’m extremely happy to be skipping school today, not because I’m struggling in class or anything. Truth be told, I’m actually pretty smart (don’t tell the football team about it though). But there’s one thing about school that was making me wanna skip it lately.
Jake still has feelings for me.
At first I was kinda flattered that someone I pined after for so long had feelings for me, but now that I’m with Mitch, all that Jake’s thinly-veiled admiration does is put a strain on our already complicated friendship.
That being said, we’ve gotten a lot closer since Mitch moved away. It has even progressed to the point where he has taken to skipping football practice to hang out with me, much to his father’s dismay.
Jake’s father is a very influential man, and he has a pretty clear vision of his son’s future. Jake is the only heir to the multimillion-dollar empire, and as such, he’ll be expected to play football for some hot-shot university for four years before being drafted into the NFL.
Jake, however, is more of an artist than a football player. Not that he’s not a great player, he’s exceptional! but where Mitch truly and wholeheartedly loves the sport, Jake is pretty indifferent. He would much rather
become a photographer, but his father would never agree to that. “Low class” I can practically hear him scoffing. The elder Timbers is kind of a tyrant to say the least. I’m a little scared of him too, to tell you the truth. I’ve only met him once though. But that was enough for him to make quite a vivid impression on me. And because of the whole “Daddy issues” thing, I can’t really deny Jake a chance to spend time with me.
I mean, it’s not as if I dislike the guy. He’s a really good friend and all of the things I used to love about him are still true, even if I no longer think about him in that way (well, I try not to think about him in that way). Plus, I feel bad for him. His dad would pop a capillary if he found out his son is gay, while mine already treats Mitch like a part of the family. How is that fair?
So, Jake started having lunch with me and my little bundle of friends, meaning Melissa and Kenan, of course, and over time we just grew more and more comfortable with each other. I mean, I’ve shared more things with him than I have with Mitch and Melissa; and that’s saying something.
The problem is, I haven’t told Mitch yet.
I’m not cheating on him, of course. I would never do that. It’s just….complicated. Plus considering the bad blood between the two of them and the limited time I have with Mitch, I never want to bring up the friendship and spoil our time together. Naturally, I feel pretty guilty about withholding information, but that guilt has recently intensified due to a particular incident...
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