. . .
Am I dreaming?was the first thought that struck Derek when he spotted Patrick perched on the hood of his car. It was sheer luck he saw him at all. His spirit dejected, he’d been two seconds from heading home when he caught a glimpse of the young man in his side-view mirror. He didn’t think anything of the guy sitting on his car, at first—his head in his hands and face hidden, nearly lost in the shadows of the parking lot. Derek backed the car out of its spot and started to drive away when he got a closer look at the other guy.
Convinced he’d fallen asleep in his car and was dreaming Patrick’s presence, Derek just stared at him from his idling vehicle. If itwasa dream—why not make the most of it?
Pulling back into his parking spot, Derek left the car and walked across the paved lot, reality seeping in with each step he took as the cool air caressed his face and the sounds of the city rang with clarity.This isn’t a dream.
Standing here now, staring into the tear-filled eyes of Patrick Weber—he was fully convinced hewasn’tdreaming.
The boy looked stunned and a littlefrightenedto see him. “Derek…?”
Unsure of what to make of this development, Derek asked cautiously, “Are you okay?” Of course, he wasn’t okay—he wasin tears.But why… exactly?
Patrick looked away and hurriedly wiped his eyes as he slid off the hood. “Yeah.”
Derek sensed he had a very narrow window of opportunity here and didn’t want to blow it. “You’re… you’re here,” he murmured. “A little late, but…” He smiled small. “… better late than never.”
Sliding his arms around himself, Patrick leaned tensely against the hood, eyes on the ground. “I-I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
“I almost wasn’t.”
Tears clung to Patrick’s lashes. “Why did you stay?”
Sighing, Derek shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t feel like going home yet. My, uh…” He laughed softly. “My friends bet me fifty bucks that you’d show up for the date.”
Patrick slowly raised his head. “You told your friends about me?”
“Yeah.”
Patrick lowered his eyes. “You didn’t expect me to show up… did you?”
“On the phone, it kind of seemed like you were trying to let me down easy. I didn’t know if you would show or not, but I was trying to be hopeful.”
Patrick didn’t reply.
“Why did you come here,” Derek asked quietly, “if you thought I’d left already?”
The boy hugged himself tighter, his throat working. “I don’t know.” He sniffed and suddenly pushed away from the car, avoiding Derek’s gaze. “I-I should go.”
“Why?”
Patrick faltered at the driver-side door.
“We’re both here now.” Derek stepped forward but didn’t crowd him. “Why don’t we go inside, have something to drink, maybe some dinner… and talk. We don’t have to go anywhere else; we can just stay here.”
His hand flexing against the car door, Patrick drew back and slowly turned to face Derek. He again adopted the deer-caught-in-headlights look, a part of him clearly terrified of Derek, yet accepted the invitation with a nod of his head.
Derek didn’t take offense at the boy’s “fear.” He wasn’t afraid Derek wouldphysicallyharm him. It was Derek’semotionaleffecton him that he feared. So, no, Derek wasn’t offended—he wasthrilled.
Late or not, Patrick had shown up—and that spoke volumes to Derek about the “effect” he had on the boy.
. . .
The evening had a surreal feeling as Patrick walked into the restaurant with Derek. Upon arriving, he had no idea he would end up on the date that he’d tried to avoid.
The date you promised Brian that you wouldn’t go on.
Needles of guilt pricked his heart. This wasn’t planned, he reasoned with his conscience. He had been certain Derek would be long gone by now.
