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“—are power,” I finish, stepping off the stairs to take the keys. I weigh them in my hands thoughtfully. “Thanks,” I say down to them, not meeting her eyes.
My mother leans in, kisses the top of my head, then walks away. I listen to her heels clack along the tile until she’s also in her bedroom, and the door softly shuts behind her.
It is with great pleasure that, at eleven o’clock on the dot, my leather-jacket-clad ass is sitting in front of Biggie’s, the engine of my bike growling like a beast, sounding just as glad to be reunited with me as I am with it. And when Toby steps out of Biggie’s at last with his apron balled up in his hand and sweat staining the pits of his uniform polo, I watch his lips part with shock as he takes in the sight of my bike.
I lift my spare helmet to him. “Ready for a ride, lover boy?”
Toby gives one nervous glance back at the restaurant before, with a tittering noise of excitement, he rushes up to claim the helmet, then awkwardly fits it over his head. “Like this?” he asks, struggling with the neck strap. I take over, strapping him in with care, then take his balled-up apron from him and shove it into my top box. “You wanna go for a little joyride before we head back to your place?” I ask him, smirking mischievously. “Hell yeah,” Toby exclaims, shaking with excitement.
Toby, still absorbing his own astonishment, hops on behind me, but doesn’t seem to know where to put his feet. “Here,” I tell him, gently taking hold of his thigh, guiding his foot to the peg. “These are for your feet.”
“Oh.” He seems to have gotten ten times more nervous the moment I touch him, as if I plan to do something to him right here in front of Biggie’s Bites in view of all of Main Street. “Cool!”
I turn my head. “Now hold on to me tightly. And get close.” He scoots a little. “Closer.” His hands slip around my waist at once. I feel his chest press against my back. Mmm, that feels so good.
At that exact moment, likely to investigate all the noise, Mrs. Tucker steps out of Biggie’s. “Oh, goodness. You boys be careful! Phew, all that racket.” She lifts her hands to her ears. “Don’t go on the highway, Tobias, I’m warnin’ you! Be safe! Goodness …!”
Toby waves at her. “Good night, Mrs. Tucker! I’ll see you after church tomorrow!” And then I kick the stand and take off, and Toby’s hands find their place right back around my waist. With a squeal both from the bike as well as Toby’s lips, we’re off.
For quite some time, we just ride on the open road, with the late night air blasting past us. Feeling him squeezed up to my back makes me feel so perfect, like I’ve finally found a guy to call my own. Even if we’re not officially anything yet. Even if we never become anything at all. Even if all we are in the end is just two lonesome misfits who inexplicably found solace in each other in the middle of nowhere.
Just having Toby in my life makes any of this worth it.
After we’ve torn a path halfway out of Spruce and back again, I circle around the streets and make my way toward Toby’s house. I slow the bike down on the curb to let him off. He suggests I bring my bike up the driveway and around to the back past the gate if I don’t want to leave it on the street, so I take him up on the offer and bring my bike along. Once inside Toby’s shed, my helmet’s on the floor, he’s peeling off his sweaty clothes and starting to say something about needing a shower, but I intercept his lips before the words are out, tackling him to the bed. Toby makes no further complaint as we resume right where we left off Friday night, our lips attached, our hands exploring, and our hearts racing.
At one point, Toby pulls away. “We should really go over our lines some more before Monday.”
“Yeah,” I agree, out of breath. “But just a few more kisses.”
Toby considers it for exactly one seventh of a second. “Yeah, a few more.” Our mouths come back together. We never once return to studying our scripts, which still lie neglected on the floor of the shed where we left them last night, and all thoughts of Danny and Kingsley are long forgotten.
13 | TOBY
I’m really liking this new routine.
Ever since Vann came crashing into my life, Lee seems to bug me less, even when we walk to school together on his non-two-a-day mornings. I don’t seem to get antagonized as much by Stepdad Carl, either, whose schedule always seems to be opposite mine lately. I run my office-aide errands every first period with such a bounce in my step, Becky calls me her personal Hermes. I barely even notice Hoyt’s annoying antics in second period, too high on my own happiness to be bothered by anything—even smelly jock feet. From third period through lunch, I am in total bliss as I stay by my buddy Vann’s side, a real companion, a friend, a partner …
