Chapter Two

Wet Hands

At the end of a long and unusual day, I returned home mentally exhausted. Our house was only about ten minutes from the store, so my mom would drop me off and pick me up each day. On the way home, I sat in the back of the car, growing ever more concerned and guilty about the day's events. My mom asked if I was feeling alright, and I excused my lame behavior with "I'm just tired and want to lie down."

We pulled into the driveway, and mom informed me of dinner in an hour: veal piccata, something exotic to break the monotony of oven meals for the past week. Technically exciting, but I was not in an excitable mood. Even though I felt positively about the experience with Nico when it occurred, and was further reassured by him that everything was good, I still couldn't help but be terrified at the prospect of Grace finding out, or my mom. Either would be a death sentence.

We lived in a decent single-story home with a basement and a nice, grassy backyard, made private by large tropical trees and bushes. I entered the house after fumbling with the stupid screen door, and quickly made my way to my old bedroom to privately gather my thoughts. After Nico left, it was a pretty constant onslaught of customers which was great for business, but not so great for my frazzled self. I removed my shoes and hopped onto the bed, sitting cross-legged, and began to lay out the events of what happened clearly in my mind.

The preteen son of a good friend of mine came on to me, admitted to being attracted to me without clearly understanding it himself, and appeared to have planned it all out, hurting himself in order to get close to me. We shared an activity that most people would not appreciate happening, and both mutually enjoyed it. He claimed that he wouldn't tell his mom, but what good are a twelve-year-old's words? Could I trust Nico to keep things private? How trustworthy was he? I certainly couldn't have kept a secret that big at his age, and could distinctly remember an occasion where I didn't.

Nico was the first person I'd had sexual contact with since starting college. There was a time in high school when I had a little fun with a few girls, but that all seemed so far away now. One of my best friends in my junior year was a girl named Kayla. She was the most amazing person to me, with a bubbly personality and good looks. One day, it came to light that she was into me. I felt so many expectations from my other friends to hook up with her, and no desire to do it myself, but I did it anyway out of pressure. And it was terrible.

To clarify, the sex was great. But after that night, our friendship seemed to crumble away. I couldn't reciprocate her attraction, and it must have been so off-putting to her that it drove a wedge deep between us. Eventually, I stopped seeing her at all as she actively avoided me, possibly out of embarrassment. I never thought much of the whole experience, but now looking back at it, I began to wonder why I wasn't attracted to her like she was to me. She was perfect for me: attractive, funny, and already my best friend. Could it have been something deeper than I previously thought? Was I ever really attracted to girls? I realized that tiny moment was making me rethink my whole life.

No, I thought, shaking my head. I knew I wasn't responsible for what happened with Nico. I wasn't the instigator. He sought me. But, I still allowed it to happen. And truthfully, I enjoyed every moment of it just as much as he seemed to; maybe even more so than my times with girls, even though I received no gratification myself. It's just that it was something so exciting, and new, and naughty. Was it wrong? Would it have been more wrong to deny him and risk destroying what was left of our friendship?

I pressed my palms to my forehead. I knew the answers, but that wasn't what mattered. Feeling frustrated and confused, I walked into the bathroom, and washed my face with warm water in the sink. I stared at my twenty-one-year-old face in the mirror, wondering how I could have betrayed Grace like that.

I returned to my bedroom, and it wasn't long before I was called down for dinner. Unsurprisingly, my dad wasn't home, and so my mom and I enjoyed a quiet meal together. She asked me how things were at the toy shop and I gave her basic responses, my mind busy with thoughts of Nico. I watched as she enjoyed the delicious-looking veal, wondering how I could bring myself to do the same.

After dinner, I retreated to my bedroom, and considered taking a nap. However, I found the scene with Nico continuing to play over and over in my head, in vivid detail: the feeling of my lips brushing against his, the sound of his laugh, the rise and fall of his stained chest as he rested on the floor. I considered masturbating, just to put the thoughts to an end so I could finally focus, and proceeded to do so. But all that came of it was further guilt, and I accepted that the only thing that could bring me peace of mind was talking things over with Nico.

I woke up in my bed feeling exceptionally well-rested. Mom dropped me off at the shop, and I entered the place feeling a lot more positive. A good night's sleep really did wonders for my overworked brain. I was still depending on Nico to stop by. It was Friday, and we were closed over the weekend. I was hoping I would get to see him before next week, as there were things I wanted to discuss with him, and would prefer not to be left alone with them over the weekend.

As the day wore on, I began to grow less hopeful that he would show up, even though it was earlier than the time he came by the previous day. At lunchtime, I went next door for a bite of food, and afterwards headed to the entrance of the beach for a quick glance around. I scanned the waterfront for any signs of him, but he either wasn't there or I couldn't spot him. I headed back to the toy store, feeling a little glum, but as I approached the entrance, I spotted Grace's slender figure loitering around the front of the store, and instantly perked up.

"Grace!" I shouted eagerly from a distance. She looked up at me, and narrowed her eyebrows. Her long, brown hair looked messier than usual, and she held a lit cigarette, something that seemed highly unusual for her. We walked towards each other until we were within hearing distance.

"Logan. What the fuck, man?" she shouted, stressing each individual word. I froze, feeling a panic in my chest. Her heavy footsteps echoed in my ears as she neared.

"What?" was all I could manage to choke out. She dropped the cigarette and stomped it out, then wordlessly grabbed me by the shoulder and led me to the door.

"Get in. Leave the sign," she demanded, referring to the Out to Lunch sign on the door. We entered the dark building together, and I felt myself moving in slow motion, squeezing out as many seconds as I could get to put together my thoughts and plan my defense. As I turned to switch the lights on, I caught a glimpse of her staring angrily at me. It took some willpower to suppress a fearful whimper.

"Okay, Grace, it's not what it seems—" I began, holding up my hands defensively as she marched towards me.

"Why? What is wrong with you? How could you?" she scowled, despondent. "He trusted you, I trusted you." Her voice was filled with raw emotion, eyes watery.

I backed myself against a shelf, knocking some random toys to the floor. Why the hell would I ever trust a twelve-year-old kid with something so serious? I felt so stupid for allowing myself to. It wasn't even twenty-four hours later and here we were.

"Were we not your friends?" she questioned, continuing her tirade. "Look at me, Logan." I did, but didn't reply. Her eyes burned into my soul. My mind was hyperactive, and I could hardly focus. I felt like my whole life was over.

"Do you know how much pain you caused him?"

"Grace..." I said weakly, ready to give up.

"It's been two years my son hasn't been the same person! How could you just leave him like that, and not even say goodbye?"

I blinked.

"Were we not important to you? Just another pair of customers, walking dollar signs?" she accused, throwing her hands up.

"I—"

"You were so good to him, such a good friend to us," she said, shaking her head. "Just say goodbye, man!" She was quiet after that. A wave of relief washed over me, but it seemed I still had things to answer for. I quickly pulled it together.

"Grace, let me explain. It's not like that," I said, still feeling slightly guilty. She looked at me expectantly.

"It was really sudden. My parents got me tickets back to school, and I had to leave before I saw you guys again. You know I wouldn't have passed on an opportunity to say goodbye. You guys made my whole summer. Honestly!" She stared like she was trying to read me. "Without you, that summer would have been boring as hell," I went on, "those days were special to me."

She scoffed. "Jesus Logan, okay, I believe you, but that doesn't change what you did to him. He was so... fucking depressed when we came in and you weren't there," she told me with a lingering hint of anger, as if she willed it to stay. "Every time we came back, he became more and more sad, less and less hopeful, until he couldn't take it anymore."

"I'm really sorry, Grace," I said candidly, then paused. "Why didn't you just get my number from my mom?" I asked her.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not like that, Logan. Nico started to think you never even cared about him in the first place. There was no convincing him otherwise, and it tore at him for years. He looked up to you, like a big brother. And you just left. Without saying goodbye, without saying if you'd be back, no message, you were just... gone!" she accused passionately.

I hadn't considered their perspective before. To think they were both saddened by my sudden disappearance was not a new thought, but I never considered the possibility of it getting as serious as it did. I realized that as much as they were a routine in my life, I was in theirs, but they didn't return to another life after summer ended like I did. They continued the same life with a sudden hole in it. It made total sense, and I felt awful.

"Grace, believe me," I said, taking her hands in mine, "I really never thought about it like that. I had my life to go back to in college. Everything back here feels so... disconnected from my life, like a side story. You were both super important to me, but I had other things going on, too. It's no excuse; I could have done better. But I hope you can at least understand."

She shook her head again, but it seemed most of her fury had faded, and only sorrow remained.

"I didn't think I could do this again. When Constantine died, it was hard enough," she said, referring to her late husband. "But Nico was young, and we made it through. But to do it again..." she trailed off. I stepped forward and offered her my arms. She hugged me back firmly for a good twenty seconds before she let go.

"Sorry, Grace. If I had known how things would turn out, I would have done it differently. You guys were important to me, but I didn't realize how immensely important I was to you, or him."

She sighed. "I really don't mean to burden you with this, Logan. But it was hard for my baby. He became incredibly unhappy, and nothing I did was able to change that. He didn't have any other friends, you were his best, and he had no one else to turn to." Her voice became low. "I was so helpless. But yesterday, when I came home, I saw a familiar spark in him, something that I'd honestly forgotten about since it'd been so long. He just smiled and told me you were back," she reminisced. I exhaled, emotionally drained and overwhelmed by her story.

"I know you have a store to run. I won't take up more of your time." She began to leave, and placed a hand on the door before looking back at me. "Come have dinner with us tonight, Logan," she offered. "He wants to see you again. As do I." We exchanged numbers, and she left. I stood there wondering how the hell I was supposed to go on having a normal day after that.

By the time I closed up, Nico had not come by, but I was happy I would be able to see him soon anyway. Mom picked me up from the store and asked if we should get dinner from somewhere, but I told her I was invited to a dinner, and asked if I could use the car that night. Of course, she allowed me to.

When we got home, I took a shower to wash away the newfound guilt, and put some nice clothes on; a simple shirt jacket, and jeans. Grace texted me their address, and after putting it into my phone, found it was only about fifteen minutes away. As I drove there, I thought about Nico, and how tough it must have been for him to lose a friend that was so important to him. I retroactively scolded myself for not doing anything to say goodbye, or even attempt to stay in contact with them. It was selfish of me to disregard them and their feelings; it seemed so obvious looking back that I could have done way better.

I pulled up to their address in a cul-de-sac and parked on the side of the road. The street had minimal lighting, and it was starting to get dark, so fortunately their home had small lights decorating the stone pathway to the front door with a warm glow emitting from inside. I stepped up to the door, nervous to confront them again after what happened earlier. Even though I left them both off on relatively positive terms, I still felt like I had betrayed them.

As I was searching the wall for a doorbell, the door suddenly opened, and there was Nico in the tall doorway, wearing an adorably oversized blue shirt with pajama bottoms. I guessed he was waiting for me to arrive. He was smiling joyously, and he charged forward, leaping at me for a hug.

"Oh, hey!" I said, returning the gesture.

"I can't believe you're at my house!" he squealed excitedly into my chest. We separated and he looked up at me. "I saw you from my window," he explained, probably noticing my curious expression.

His golden hair was disheveled, and I presumed he had not left the house that day. He took me by the hand (well, fingers) and led me inside. The arousing scent of food permeated the entire floor. He instructed me to take my shoes off at the door, and watched me as I did so, smiling the whole time. The downstairs seemed to be mostly one very large room, certainly spacious. He led me past some couches, a large television, a stairway, a big marble dining table, and directly to the kitchen in the corner where Grace stood dutifully over the cooktop.

"Damn, Grace," I said walking up to the kitchen, "that smells amazing."

"Logan," she said, looking authentically pleased to see me, "Glad you made it." She came over for a hug.

"Seems the trek was worth it," I joked, looking over towards the food. She grinned.

"I hope you like vegetables, because they're a big hit in this house," she said, returning to the kitchen. I looked over at Nico for his take, and he nodded enthusiastically, making me laugh out loud.

"Nico, honey, will you go put on something nice? Then you can help me finish dinner."

"Okay, mumma," he said, and bounded away, up the stairs, waving at me on the way up.

"Have a seat, Logan," she said, inviting me to the bar stools at the kitchen counter. I sat down. "He was really excited you were coming," she said.

"I could tell," I replied.

"He's been helping me cook a lot these days. I think it's a new hobby of his. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it."

I bit my lip. Something still lingered in the back of my mind. "Grace, I feel like I've hurt you guys. Are you sure you want me here?"

She turned to me. "We are really happy you came. What's happened before, well, it doesn't matter now. Look at him. I haven't seen him like this for two years. You're welcome here any time, as long as you can get me results like that. It's a miracle."

"Okay. Well, it's the least I can do, I guess," I said. She went back to cooking.

I heard the familiar sound of socked feet coming down the stairs fast, a tumble, then a mild crash. Concerned, I turned to look over at the stairs, to see Nico standing up, looking embarrassed. He was now dressed in gray jeans and a plain white dress shirt, ruffled morning hair now standing out significantly.

"Very handsome," I teased him, looking him over. He blushed and covered his face with his arms. "Hurt yourself?" I asked.

"Maybe," he replied cheekily.

"For me?"

"Oh my God," he said in a low voice, looking over to his occupied mother, blushing again. He swiped playfully at me, then took a seat next to where I was sitting, but only for a brief moment before Grace called him over to help with what she was preparing.

"It's vegetable stir-fry," he explained to me from the kitchen. "It's almost good if you take out the carrots, green beans, and broccoli."

"Nico, don't be a smart ass," she groaned, and he giggled childishly.

We talked idly as they prepared the meal. The dinner was apparently a staple of theirs, and its simplicity made it a convenient meal for Nico to often prepare. In the past few months, Nico had hung around the kitchen whenever Grace would cook, and slowly became more and more involved in the process. In time, he found himself enjoying the cooking process a lot, and Grace would sometimes find him in just his underwear preparing breakfast, a story that he tried and failed to suppress his mother from telling.

When the food was ready, we sat at the table, myself across from Nico, and Grace at the head.

I started us off by saying Grace. "Grace," I said. "This looks just divine. You too Nico. Thanks for having me over tonight."

"Thank you for coming over, Logan," Nico said politely, looking over at me with big eyes.

We dug into the delicious food. I wasn't vegan, but you can't go wrong with vegetable stir-fry, and theirs was incredible! As we ate, Grace asked me about school, and I gave her a recap of my life over the past two years, including my tales in Australia. Nico's jaw hit the floor when I told him what kinds of animals we saw in the zoo. Before I could get through all my stories, Nico was begging Grace to take him.

"Please, please mom! We have to go see the dingoes! And the kangaroos, koalas, and the wobblies—"

"Wallabies," I corrected, pointing my fork at him.

"Well, maybe for your birthday, if you still want to, then," Grace conceded.

"What about you, Grace? What have you been doing the last two years?"

"Me? I've been here, just relaxing in the sun. I started working at L' étoffe, on Clearwater," she said, referring to a clothing store on the same street as our toy store. "And this guy started middle school," she revealed.

"How exciting," I said to him.

"It's not." He grinned, "It sucks."

"What else have you done since you last saw Logan?" his mom asked him.

"Nothing really," he said, looking mildly annoyed with her.

"Nico got into gardening, for about a month," she said, smiling at the memory.

"Mommm," he whined, but couldn't keep from cracking a tiny smile.

"It's true, he planted some flowers and vegetables in the back garden. Then, he let them die, even though I pestered him constantly to keep them healthy."

Nico moaned and sank in his chair, eventually falling under the table, and we all laughed.

After dinner, Nico and I enjoyed a vegan chocolate cake, prepared earlier by Nico himself. I complimented him, and his smile was immeasurable. Feeling stuffed, I offered to help Grace with the dishes.

"It's alright Logan, I'll take care of it. Thanks for offering, though. Why don't you go upstairs with Nico? He can show you his room," she suggested. I turned to him to find him grinning madly at me. He took me by the wrist and hastily led me up the flight of stairs, down a hall and to his bedroom door. The word "NICO" was spelled out on the door in colorful wooden letters.

A pleasant smell radiated from behind the door, and as we entered I was happily surprised to find that the source was likely a number of unlit candles, scattered around the room. It was a small bedroom with dark-blue painted walls, a queen bed, a nightstand, and a desk with a chair; the essentials. Resting on the desk was some sort of cage. On the walls, there was a framed photo of a man and a baby, a surfboard mounted above his bed, a square of netting adorned with many different seashells, and a window overlooking the driveway. The room was in pristine condition, not what I'd normally expect from a boy's bedroom: no clothes on the floor, the desk spotless, bed made.

"Wow Nico," I said, looking around the room. "Nice place you got here."

"Thanks," he said shyly.

"What's this? A snake?" I inquired as I wandered over to the mysterious plastic cage on his desk.

"Nope," he replied. I tried looking in, but whatever creature lived inside was hiding inside some sort of tube.  "It's a guinea pig," he explained, and came over to where I was standing, reaching inside to pick up the tube. He held it up and the small guinea pig slid out, looking confused.

"Wow, he's adorable," I commented, and Nico pulled him out of the cage and held him so I could check him out. He was a brown little dude with white spots. Or maybe he was white with brown spots? I went to pet him and inadvertently made contact with Nico's hand, making him flinch.

"Name?" I asked.

"Ummm..." he said, dropping his pet back into the cage. "It's uhhh," he stammered.

I looked at him, slightly confused. "What?"

He hesitated. "It's Logan," he finally whispered, looking away.

Caught a little off guard, I just laughed nervously. "Oh... cool!"

He blushed and closed the cage, and hurriedly took me away from it. "This is my... bed, and this is my old surfboard," he said, starting the tour. "Those are some shells I collected at the beach." We walked over to the shells and I spent some time examining them while he told me about the origin of each. He then brought me to the photo on the wall.

"This is a picture of me, and my dad, when I was little," he explained timidly. He resembled his father quite a bit: a lean, fit-looking man, with a shorter but similar hairstyle. He held baby Nico, who was unrecognizable.

"Awesome!" I said to him, looking back and forth between him and the photo. "You look a lot like him now, you know."

"Oh, ah, thanks," he replied, busy biting his nails. I took another look around his room.

"No toys? What happened to all the stuff you bought from our place? Throw it all out?"

"Oh, I still have those... they're in the closet," he said, and took me over to it. He slid the mirror door open, revealing the dusty artifacts of his past, lying in a big pile on the floor. We knelt to get a closer look, and he turned to me. I made a sad face.

"Like I said," he clarified, "I only need one toy." I looked over and he smirked mischievously at me. We stood up simultaneously, and he began pushing me over towards his bed. I collapsed onto it on my back, and he climbed up on top of me until his head reached mine. His hair hung down, hovering just above my face.

"Hi," he whispered into my face. His breath smelled of chocolate.

"Hey," I whispered back. He kissed me, filling my mouth with his unique taste, and just a hint of sweet chocolate.

We continued kissing as he straddled my chest, his blonde hair repeatedly brushing against my cheeks. I wrapped my arms around his body, and pulled his skinny physique further into me, feeling the stiffness in his pants press against me. He moaned lightly into my mouth as it did. We made out like this for several minutes, before he pulled off to catch his breath. His hair was messy and I reached out and mussed it, teasing a squeaky giggle out of him.

He got up off of me and began unbuttoning his shirt, and headed for the door. He impishly closed and locked it, before making his way back towards me, still unbuttoning the shirt. I watched as he made his way over, his face hungry with desire. It was cute how eager he was, but I knew I couldn't do that with him—not with Grace so close by.

"Nico," I said, taking his hands. "We can't do that. Not right now."

His eyes immediately saddened, but he leaned on top of me and went in for a kiss. I allowed him a quick peck, but sat up, delicately pushing him off. He looked at me solemnly.

"Your mom is right downstairs," I reminded him.

"But... the door's locked!" he pleaded. "She can't come in, there's no key!"

"That's not what I'm worried about," I said. "It feels weird..."

"She won't care!" he continued to plead. "She doesn't care!"

I sighed. "Nico," I said. "I know it seems like I'm being unreasonable, and like it's not a big deal. But other people don't see this like we do. I can't do that to her. You're her son and—"

"That's stupid," he pouted. "It feels good and I want to do it."

I leaned over and placed my hand on his back. His shirt was still on, unbuttoned down the front. He looked irritated. I pulled him to me and kissed him on the forehead. "I do care about you, Nico. I do. We just can't risk doing that when your mom is here," I paused. "Or when Logan's watching," I waved my hand at the cage, where Logan the guinea pig sat, staring at us. Nico was devastated, but nodded. I was intent on cheering him up.

"Come to the shop on Monday, maybe we can figure something out then," I told him. He nodded again, and I stood up. I kissed him boldly on the mouth. "It was really cool coming to your house and seeing your room," I said to him. "Is there anything else you want to do before I go?"

He scrunched his face in thought for a moment before he ambled over to the side of the bed and pulled out an acoustic guitar from underneath. He sat down on the bed with one leg raised up and his other foot on the floor. He strummed the instrument a few times, then began to masterfully strum a very relaxing tune. I quickly recognized his song as Wet Hands by C418. I was stunned; he was good, and clearly had a lot of experience playing. We both sat on the bed listening to his beautiful music, and I reached over and softly rubbed his back as he played. His hair had fallen in front of his eyes, and he looked just beautiful, something I could have never seen myself saying about a boy just a day ago.

When he finished the song, he set the guitar down on the bed, and I pulled him into a hug. "Wow, that was incredible. You are really talented," I told him, and he beamed. I was genuinely surprised and impressed with him, and he also seemed pleased with his performance. "When'd you pick up guitar?"

"Mom got it for my birthday last year. I've been practicing a lot. Sometimes I take it down to the beach too." He strummed it intermittently.

I took a closer look, and he showed it to me in detail, excited to be sharing his hobby. He continued to tell me about his history with instruments, playing the piano at his old house, and learning the recorder at school. We talked for about ten more minutes, before I looked at my phone to find a series of text messages from my mom.

"I've got to get going, man," I said.

"Oh, but I want you to stay..." he whimpered.

"I'll be back, Nico. We still have three more weeks." My answer seemed to cheer him up.

I stood and headed to the door, unlocking it. I turned back to him. He sat on the bed, and smiled meekly at me. I waved to him and bid him farewell, and when he gently waved back, I left the room. As I came down the stairs, I looked around, unable to find Grace. I checked the kitchen which was empty, then headed to the front door and spotted movement through the frosted glass. Opening the door, I stepped into the warm night air, accented by the sound of crickets. Grace was leaned over the railing of the porch, overlooking the moonlit yard.

"I wanted to catch you, before you left," she said, staring ahead, then turned to me. She was smoking a cigarette, and I caught an unpleasant whiff of smoke.

"What's up?" I said, taking my place next to her.

She lowered her voice to a hush, before revealing her theory to me. "Nico has a major crush on you."

"What gives you that idea?" I shot back defensively.

She laughed. "A lot has happened that you don't know about," she said pensively.

"So..." I said, pressing her to go on.

"Logan, it's probably a bit strange for you. But my son really likes you. He hounded me all last night and this morning about getting you over here, and I made damn sure that it happened." She glanced over at me. "No matter how you feel about him... I have to ask you to, please, be delicate with him. If you don't want to hang around with a twelve-year-old boy, I get it. Just, please don't break his heart again. Make it peaceful. I can't go on the way I have the last two years, and I wouldn't wish it on him again either."

We both stared at the wood flooring.

"It's been stressful," she went on. "This," she waggled her cigarette at me, "is the result. The antithesis of everything I believe in, and yet the only way I can even manage." She sighed loudly.

I frowned. "Don't worry," I said. "I'll make sure he's happy. I won't screw up again this time."

"Thanks." She looked up and smiled. "Now, get your butt out of here." She put out her cigarette and headed back inside, leaving me alone on the porch. I walked along the driveway feeling confident that I could help improve their lives, and looked back at the cozy home of the boy who had a crush on me. I got into the car and checked my phone. There were a few messages from my mom, and I opened them up and began to read them.

Without warning, there was a loud tap on the passenger window, and I gasped, completely startled. I turned and saw Nico's face peeking inside. He was laughing to himself, the sound muffled to me. I exhaled loudly, and after collecting myself I unlocked the passenger door. He clambered inside and onto the seat, still clothed in his fully unbuttoned dress shirt and jeans, the only difference being his absent socks.

"Hi," he whispered, as if his mom would be able to hear him.

"You scared the crap out of me," I told him, and he snickered again.

"Sorry," he laughed, making himself comfortable in the seat. "I snuck out the window."

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Can we go down to the beach? Just for a little bit?" he asked hopefully.

I sighed. "Yeah. I'll text my mom and tell her I'll be late." Instead, I covertly went to Grace's messages, hoping to keep her from freaking out if she found him missing.

Me: With Nico. Quick trip to beach, will bring him back soon

I sent the message and looked over at Nico. He was slouched in the seat with his bare feet up on the dashboard, smooth chest spilled out of his unbuttoned shirt, one nipple visible to me. He had found my sunglasses on the sun visor and put them on. It was funny, and he also looked very sexy. I chuckled at him, and he smiled back, displaying his teeth in the car's dim lighting.

"Let's roll out," he said as I started the engine. It was only about two minutes before he grew tired of being unable to see anything and put the sunglasses back. He was quiet as we drove, but wore a small smile. I think we were both quietly excited and nervous as to what lay ahead.

I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a friendly shove. "What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"I'm really glad you came over tonight," he said. "I had a lot of fun."

"It's nice to see you both again. Just like old times."

"Yeah," he said thoughtfully, leaning against the window. I turned my focus back to the road, but heard a notification on my phone and very quickly glanced at the screen.

Grace: That kid! 😂

I smiled to myself, having received Grace's blessing for our nighttime adventure. The car was an older SUV, and to my annoyance didn't have bluetooth capability. I ended up scanning the radio for anything remotely pleasant, and eventually settled on some classical music channel. After some time, Nico began to hum with it softly. His young voice was soothing, and I reveled in it, smiling contentedly as we drove into the night.

Streetlights illuminated his satisfied expression as we drove. I watched him through the corner of my eye. I didn't want to wreck the enchanted mood in the air, but I knew I had to bring up the concerns I had with him. I shifted uncomfortably, building the strength to talk.

"We should talk about yesterday." I tried not to sound too serious. It worked, his smile enduring.

"It was amazing," he said simply. "Thanks again. But, sorry for being so pushy. I don't know what came over me."

"Yeah, it's okay, it was fun. But listen, I just need to be really clear that you shouldn't tell anyone about it. I know you already told me you wouldn't, but it's extremely important that you don't even mention it to anyone, even if you feel like you can trust them, or we'll surely never be able to see each other again."

"Logan, you dummy. I get it, nobody wants us to do fun stuff like that because they're jealous. You don't have to worry about me telling on you, because I want to do it again and again, and I'll never let anyone stop us," he gloated. I rolled my eyes but smiled, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulders. I could accept that answer.

We finally pulled into the beach parking lot at the end of Clearwater. Even though it was a Friday night during the summer, the lot was mostly empty, save for two other cars. I took off my shoes and we got out. We silently trudged through the sand to the shore, side by side. A big, bright full moon lit the whole beach with cool, blue brilliance.

I sat down in the sand and he did the same, sitting beside me, our legs extended. We sat there quietly for some time, listening to the rhythmic crash of the ocean waves, and watching the moon's reflection shimmer in the vast stretch of ocean. He leaned his head into my shoulder.

"It's so pretty tonight," he said dreamily. I made a small sound of agreement.

"Did you think any more about what we talked about yesterday?" he asked. "I did."

I grabbed a handful of sand and slowly let it fall, like an hourglass. "And what did you decide?"

He looked over at me. "I decided that I like you a lot. That I've never felt something like this before, and I want to share it with you. Um, if you want to." I reached over and took his hand, rubbing the back of his palm with my thumb. I looked into his sparkling green eyes and smiled, and he smiled back.

It was difficult for me to accept that I was interested in having a relationship with this young boy. He was so extraordinarily sweet, and just being around him warmed my heart. But there was so much risk for the both of us. I knew nobody else would understand, and it made me reluctant to commit to him. Nonetheless, I felt happy whenever I was with him, and content to be affectionate with him so long as no one else was around. I was rightfully afraid of how others would react to such a relationship.

"Will you hold me?" he requested quietly, his eyes shining in the moonlight.

I opened my arms welcomingly, and he got up and swiftly moved into my lap, facing away from me. He sat between my legs and fell into my open arms. I wrapped them delicately around his body and held him to me, placing one hand under his shirt and on his side, resting against his silky skin. It was a touch of love—nothing sexual—and he seemed to feel the same. He may have had other ideas having me bring him here, but I think we both privately acknowledged that this was all we needed. He relaxed his head, which fell against my chest. I caught his familiar scent and felt a sense of inner peace. He breathed softly and steadily, and I felt connected to him in a way I never have with anyone else before, stroking his smooth belly slowly and tenderly.

We stayed like that for nearly half an hour, exchanging no further words. We were warming each other with our body heat, and he had gone almost completely limp, in a state of deep tranquility, trusting me entirely. I felt completely at peace, like never before. Everything was perfect, and all my troubles seemed to disappear because in that moment, nothing else existed, it was just the two of us on that infinite stretch of beach. But, eventually, I knew it was time to get him home, and I shook him softly and whispered his name into his ear.

He tilted his head up at me. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?" he asked innocently, with hope in his unbroken voice.

I paused to gather my thoughts, still somewhat unsure. Was this what I wanted? It was clearly what he had wanted. In just a couple seconds I considered everything there was to consider, and when he placed his small hand on my thigh, I came to my conclusion.

"Yeah, Nico, I do. I want nothing more." I said confidently, and kissed him lightly on the top of the head. He made a sound, a half-giggle, shaky and jubilant, a sound that expressed his unfiltered joy. I pulled him tightly to me for a hug. He pushed himself off of me so he could turn around, and dove onto me, propelling us both into the sand, and we hugged each other like that.

"But we have to be careful. Other people won't understand," I reminded him.

"Fuck 'em," he said simply. The words sounded wrong coming out of his sweet mouth, similar to the way he spoke the previous day. It was a silly and naïve response, and my reply was a breathy laugh, not wanting to ruin the moment.

After a few more seconds, I stood up, him following my lead, and we brushed the sand off our butts. He stood on his tiptoes, and I allowed him to brush some sand out of my hair, while I relayed to him that I needed to get him home. He reluctantly agreed. We walked back to the car, and I followed him to the passenger side to brush the remaining sand off of his clothes and small feet.

As we drove, he kept sneaking peeks at me, and when I'd notice and turn to him, he'd smile and look away. I pulled up to the sidewalk a short distance from his house, to feign concern that getting too close might alert his mother. I turned to him and he looked simply bubbly.

"Can we meet up tomorrow?" he asked excitedly.

I remembered the plans I had. "Ah, crap. I won't really be around tomorrow. What about Sunday?"

"Yes! Oh, I can't wait!" he shouted, bouncing up and down, then suddenly looked as if he remembered something. "I have a phone now. I'll give you my number!"

I took out my phone and unlocked it, and he swiped it from me. He found my contacts and added himself, and I watched over his shoulder as he attached a series of emojis onto the end of his name. He handed the phone back to me and I put it away. We gazed at each other in silence, neither of us wanting the night to end.

"Well, I'm going to go now. Goodnight, Logan," he said, opening the door, but quickly shut it and turned back to me. "Um, can I have a kiss?"

He leaned in and I kissed him gently on the lips. Though it was a light kiss, he still moaned quietly. He pulled away, blushing, and got out of the car. As he stood, I caught sight of a small tent in his jeans. He skipped back towards his house.

As I drove forward to turn around in the cul-de-sac, I watched as he expertly climbed a tall tree and scrambled onto the roof, headed towards his window. He looked back and spotted me, and waved before turning and climbing inside. I sped off down the shadowy street and headed home.

"You're home late," my mom commented as I walked through our front door. She was laying on the sofa on her phone. "Did you see my texts?"

"Uhhh, not yet, sorry," I replied sheepishly.

"We're going to Keysville for brunch tomorrow, with Lucy and them. Can you be up at eight?" Keysville was another small town near the big city about an hour east, where my aunt Lucy and my cousins lived.

"Yeah, guess so," I said.

"How was dinner? Anyone I know?" she asked, still looking at her phone.

"It was Grace and Nico, if you remember them. From the last summer I was here."

"Oh, yes, I remember you telling me about them. How are they doing?"

"Great," I replied succinctly, and she didn't inquire further. I headed to my room, and after changing into pajama pants, slid through the back door into our yard.

The yard was a large patio overlooking a small grass field. An old playground lay unused in the corner of the grass. I never understood why mom didn't just get rid of it; I haven't played on that thing since I was around Nico's age, and no other kids ever came around.

I sat in one of the patio chairs without bothering to turn the outdoor lights on; I found that the moon was bright enough. I closed my eyes and relaxed, recalling the events of the day, and wondering what the future had in store. I now had myself a little boyfriend to take care of, at least until I left again. I thought about him and reminisced about how nice it was to sit with him on the beach just an hour or so ago.

I remembered the warmth of his lithe form resting on me, and yearned for the feeling of total euphoria I got sitting there with him. I began to feel something unexpected, sitting there on the patio: a sudden emptiness, and a longing for my boyfriend, the boy who seemed to need me as much as I suddenly felt I needed him right then. It became clear why he was so attracted to me. If this was the way he felt when I wasn't around, it was crystal clear why he sought me out. I was his drug, and now he was mine.

I took my phone out of my pocket. Checking the contacts, I came upon the ridiculous name he had given himself: "Nico Florakis😘😜😇🤪🐔🐔". Chuckling to myself, I sent him a message.

Me: Hey. Guess who

Nico: Hi

Nico: Are you home?

Me: Yeah. Only crashed the car a few times on the way back

Nico: 😭

Nico: What are you doing?

Me: I'm sitting outside under the stars

Me: Gotta to go to sleep soon

Me: Wish you were here

Nico: Me too

Me: What are you up to?

Nico: I'm in bed texting you. I miss you 😘

Nico: See you on Sunday 😉😁

Nico: What's your Snapchat?

Me: I don't have one, but I could get it

Nico: If you do, add me!!!

He sent his username, but I decided to deal with that later. I wanted to start getting ready for bed; I needed eight hours of sleep to function properly. In addition to brunch, I had plans to see a childhood friend who was also back from school.

Me: Okay maybe tomorrow. I'm going to go to bed too

Nico: Yay!! Goodnight boyfriend sleep well! 👋👋

Nico: I hope I dream about you tonight

Me: Aw good night Nico. Talk to you later

Nico: 🥰😍😴

I set the phone down on the table and looked up at the starry sky, feeling content. For the first time, I felt truly loved by someone that wasn't family. Though I learned I had caused him great pain, I felt thankful for the opportunity to make things right. Since we were away from any cities, the stars shone brightly and freely. Crickets chirped softly in the darkness. Everything was perfect.