Jase shook his head and laughed. “C'mon, Cinderella. I'll get you a bucket and mop. Let's go before my mom calls the cops and they put out an all points bulletin on me. She's a little neurotic that way. I'm an only child.”
Luis walked a pace behind Jase all the way out to the parking lot. He followed him to the large shiny two door car that had been customized so everything would be black, even the wheels. It took a moment for Luis to realize Jase's car was a l986 Buick Grand National. He gazed at the car, threw his arms in the air, and started bouncing up and down. “I can't believe you have a freaking Grand National. How cool is that? Seriously. I haven't seen one in years.” It was the ultimate muscle car of all time and Luis had always wanted one himself.
But Jase looked at Luis and jerked his head. “You haven't seen one in years. I just got this car a month ago. It was a graduation present and I paid for half of it myself by working at my dad's store. They only started making them a short time ago.”
Luis stopped jumping and lowered his voice. “I'm sorry. I meant I haven't seen one like it before in a while. My uncle has the only one for miles where I come from in Tennessee. Most people drive pick up trucks where I come from.” Luis's uncle had once owned a Buick Grand National in 1986. He had a pick up truck, too, and only drove the Grand National on special occasions. His uncle had been gay, and had died of AIDS complications by the time Luis had first met Jase in New York. Some of Luis's best childhood memories were spent riding in the Grand National with his uncle.
Jase laughed. He scratched his balls with an unconscious swipe of his hand. “Most people drive pick up trucks around here, too
. I worked fucking hard to get it.
Luis smiled at him. “I admire that. Not many people are willing to work that hard for something they want.”
Then Jase pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pants and lit up in front of Luis. He extended the pack and asked, “Want one?”
Luis made a face. “No thank you, I don't smoke. And you shouldn't be smoking either. It's bad for your health.” In Luis's real life, Jase had quit smoking long before he'd met Luis. But Luis caught him smoking on the sly every now and then. Luis started to wonder if he could get the young version of Jase to quit smoking before it did any damage to him.
But Jase inhaled deeply and said, “I'm a big boy. I know what I'm doing.”
“Go ahead,” Luis said. “Kill yourself. See if I care.”
“Dude,” Jase said. “It's none of your business. I don't even know you. I get enough of that from the fucking surgeon general. This is America. It's supposed to be a free country.”
“It's also an expensive, disgusting habit,” Luis said. He folded his arms across his chest and looked the other way.
“I paid less than a buck for these,” Jase said.
Luis forgot all about how cheap cigarettes used to be, before the government started adding on all those taxes and extra charges. “I meant it adds up. Besides, it's still bad for you. You should put it out right now before you get hooked. Someday you might have a kid and you'll want to be around for him for a long time. But what do I know?”
Jase laughed and blew a stream of smoke in Luis's face. “You're not my mom. And I doubt I'll ever have kids.”
“Then smoke,” Luis said. “See if I care.” The young version of Jase could be as stubborn as middle aged Jase.
Jase shrugged and walked around to the driver's side. “Get in,” he said. “I don't live that far from here. But I drive fast.” Then he took another drag and flicked the cigarette into the parking lot before he finished it.
Luis gulped. Jase was a litterbug, too. Then he wondered if the younger version of Jase was a better driver than middle aged Jase. As an adult, Jase was probably one of the worst drivers Luis had ever met. He either went too fast or too slow. He didn't stop when he was supposed to stop and he never navigated turns correctly. He'd recently backed into a fire hydrant pulling out of a parking space near their town house on the Upper West Side. He sent the entire block into a tailspin for a full day. But Luis didn't have much of a choice. It was either get into the Grand National and buckle his seat belt or spend the night on a bench outside Jase's high school.
And he couldn't wait to go back to Jase's house and see Mary, Isabelle, and Barry.
Chapter Four
“My mom and dad are leaving for a cruise tomorrow,” Jase said. He'd just pulled up to the front of the house where he'd grown up, the same house Luis would come to know and love almost twenty-five years into the future. “But my gram and gramps live here, too. So they'll be around. They never leave. Gramps still works full time and never takes vacations. He thinks vacations are for weak people and are a waste of time.”
Luis was still holding on to the bottom of his seat as tightly as he could. He thought it was cute the way Jase referred his Mary and Barry as his “mom and dad.” But he was too nervous to open his mouth to speak. He'd never been on a ride like that in his life. The minute they pulled out of the school parking lot, Jase hit the gas and sped all the way home. Luis was amazed they hadn't flipped over on that one severe curve just outside of town. But he didn't say anything. He took a deep breath and smiled.
“And I think we should come up with something better than telling them you ran away from Tennessee,” Jase said, as he pulled the key out of the ignition. “If my mom and gram find out you ran away from home, they'll never stop asking questions.” He smiled and punched Luis in the arm. “You know how women can be, man.”
Luis sent him a half smile. Evidently, Jase couldn't tell he was gay. He was speaking to Luis as if speaking to one of his straight buddies. “What should I say?”
“Let's tell them you graduated from high school and decided to spend the summer bumming around Alaska,” Jase said. “And that's not totally a lie either. I'll tell them I met you at the school where you were looking for temporary work, and then I'll ask my gramps if he can give you a job doing something.”
Luis smiled when he referred to his grandfather as “gramps.” He nodded and said, “Sounds good to me. And it's not really a lie. I am looking for work and I am traveling around Alaska.” He didn't want to lie to the people he would one day love and respect in the future, even though they had no idea who he was yet and that he did, indeed, love them. But he couldn't tell them the truth either. They'd send him to a mental hospital.
“I guess you'll have to stay here until you figure out what you're going to do,” Jase said, staring down at his lap.