In the middle of Des Plaines Illinois three boys find themselves in a tangled knot of angsty lust and amateur love.
Evan Webster has an average American life. When he isn't at swim practice or the movie theater, he's trying to make time to study bi...
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There was a swarm of fireflies buzzing next to Danny. He watched the bugs dodge and swerve, warning each other with a fleeting glow and then fading back into the night. The chorus of light continued, with little blinks popping up in random places. As Danny walked into Jackson's trailer, he imagined it'd be quite chaotic to be firefly. Bumbling around aimlessly, waiting for someone else to light up. He couldn't understand why all of them wanted to be so bright. If he were a firefly, he'd want to stay hidden in the dark.
The chartreuse-colored bioluminescence disappeared when Jackson shut the door, but Danny could still hear some crickets chirping. He assumed Jackson had left a window open, but judging by the interior of the trailer, he quickly considered that there might be a cricket inside...along with a lot of other insects.
Danny would have been polite and complimented Jackson's tiny home if it wasn't for the fact that there really wasn't anything to compliment. His eyes bounced from the ripped carpet to the sticky spoons in the sink, trying to come up with something nice to say. He noticed a lot of half-burned candles and shoestrings on the floor, and then cleared his throat in an attempt to make the situation less awkward.
A cockroach ran across the floor, and Jackson lifted a propane tank to crush it. Danny moved aside and occupied himself by inspecting a crumpled piece of aluminum foil on the countertop, hoping there'd be food inside.
Jackson caught sight of him and immediately said, "Don't touch that!"
Danny jumped back and Jackson hurried to collect the foil and a nearby pack of cotton balls, shoving the random things into an overcrowded drawer.
"Sorry," Jackson apologized. "It's just...A lot of this is, um...My mom's stuff. I'm not supposed to mess with it."
Danny nodded, still debating what to say. He was strangely endeared by Jackson's frantic demeanor. It was a refreshing change from Evan's ever-present assuredness.
Jackson adjusted a cushion on a seating bench and then picked up some dirty laundry before saying, "You can sleep here. It's usually my bed, but I'll sleep in the back." In a sliver of moonlight, he caught a glimpse of Danny's brown eyes, looking as sweet as the hot chocolate that still lingered on his tongue. He quickly averted his gaze.
The redhead moved to close some stained curtains, and then took two steps across the room. He was in front of the kitchenette when Danny stopped him.
"Jackson," he spoke, causing the boy to turn. "Thank you...For letting me stay here."
Jackson lifted one side of his mouth, replying, "No problem." He walked passed the plastic-wood paneling, tugged on a sliding door, and retreated into the back room.
Danny sat on the lumpy cushion, unlacing his black Converse and shrugging off his leather jacket. He tossed them to the side and laid on his back, trying to be as comfortable as possible in his dark jeans and white tank top. He peered at the ceiling, which was either caving in or peeling, but there wasn't enough light to see it clearly. Jackson had closed the curtains, shielding the gloom of the departing sun. Only flexions of moonbeams emanated from the tattered holes in the fabric, casting a half-light disco on Danny's chest.
