Chapter 106
But Darian stopped on a page, read a few questions, and whistled low. “You’re right, graduating would’ve been easier.” Looking over at Stacy, he added, “I’m proud of you.”
Thin color crept into Stacy’s cheeks. “You haven’t checked my answers yet. I probably bombed completely.”
“But you tried,” Darian replied. “The Stacy I met months ago would’ve blown this off and said the hell with it.” Stacy’s face grew hotter, and he raised the mug to his mouth to cover his embarrassment. “You’ve grown up, Stace. And yes, that’s a goodthing.” When Stacy didn’t reply, Darian turned back to the test booklet and opened it to the answers. Without looking at him, he asked, “Do you know how cute you look when you blush?”
Stacy kicked out at the leg of Darian’s chair and laughed. “Just grade it already.”
As Darian checked his answers, Stacy drifted into the living room. Pictures of James sat on top of the television, a school picture and some candid shots. Darian was in one of them, along with the little girl…James’s sister, what was her name again? Stacy couldn’t remember. Started with an a, he thought. Maybe.
Behind him, the clock chimed. Stacy drifted over to it, an old grandfather clock that stood like a sentry on one side of the living room couch. The wood housing was old and weathered, and Stacy ran an appraising hand over the smooth finish. Cherry, given the color, and well crafted. Stacy smiled, and his reflection in the clock face smiled back. Who would’ve thought he’d ever know so much about wood? Well,he thought, watching his smile turn sly, I know about wood, but I mean from a tree.
Faint footsteps approached, and then Darian’s reflection appeared beside Stacy’s. “What’s that smile for?”
“Just thinking.” Stacy’s smile turned coy, and his eyes met Darian’s in the glass. “About wood.”
“Uh-huh.” Darian tried not to smile, but it didn’t work. “What about wood?”
Stacy stroked the side of the clock and told him, “I don’t know. The texture. The way it feels beneath your hands—so strong, unyielding, so firm.” He shifted from one foot to the other to alleviate the sudden pressure at his groin. Talk about wood…without preamble, he asked, “How big are you?”
“What?” Darian laughed.
Stacy grinned. “You know, fully extended. Guy like you should be what—” He held his hands a good foot apart, and nudged Darian. “Twelve inches? Eight around?”
“Stacy!” Darian laughed again, but when Stacy didn’t drop his hands, he shook his head. “Try three. ‘Fully extended.’”
“You’re shitting me.” Stacy closed his hands to about three inches apart and stared at the small space separating his palms before he said, “No way. Guy like you? No fucking way.” Then, with a frown, he asked, “You never took steroids, did you?”
Darian winked but didn’t answer. “You’re the one who said it wasn’t the size of the ship.”
“Yeah, but three?” Stacy glanced at the bulge in the front of Darian’s jeans. “If there’s only three inches in there, you’ve got to have like elephant nuts or something.”
“Change of subject.” Darian laughed. “Don’t you want to know how you did on the test?”
Oh, yes. The test. Stacy searched Darian’s face for some clue, but the faint smile on his friend’s face told him nothing. Holding his breath, he waited for Darian to speak, but his friend stayed silent. Finally, after a long moment, Stacy burst. “Well?”
“There’s good news and bad news,” Darian told him. “Good news is you didn’t do too badly. With a little studying, you can probably get a passing score right off the bat.”
Stacy’s heart swelled and he pumped a fist in the air in victory. “Woo! Go me. Who’da thunk?” Then, sobering, he asked, “What’s the bad news?”
Darian leaned in close and, in a loud whisper, said, “Bad news is you still have to wait to find out if I’m lying about those three inches or not.”
Stacy laughed. “I already know you’re lying,” he declared. Darian gave him an enigmatic smirk that made doubt creep into Stacy’s voice. “You gotta be, Darian. Tell me.”
But Darian just gave him a slight shrug and turned away, heading back to the kitchen. As he followed, Stacy called out, “You haveto be lying!”
* * * *
Two practice tests later, Stacy crawled into his bed, exhausted but happy. Darian said his scores weren’t all that bad—better than Stacy had imagined, at any rate. Suddenly there was an end in sight, and he felt more confident now about the GED than he had all summer. As he snuggled into the downy pillow, eyes already closed, the anxiety that had held him in its grip over the past few days finally lifted. He almost looked forward to class tomorrow, if only because that was one more day beneath his belt, one day closer to the real test and the promise of Darian after that.