Chapter 1
Ken fidgeted in the back corner of Freshman English at San Jose Community College on Friday afternoon. He looked around the crowded classroom as the bland, gray-suited instructor droned on. Why the hell did the advisor force Ken into remedial English despite his high reading and comprehension scores? The frosted windows allowed light in but no vision out.
He sighed. His gaze repeatedly fell upon the young lady next to him, impelling the corners of his mouth to rise.
She and Ken rolled their eyes in unison and yawned behind their hands. Her athletic body, cute smile, and medium-length hair in a feathered-back cut ignited a fire in Ken. He tore a sheet of paper from his notepad.
Hi, I’m Ken. He passed it to her, taking in her low-cut shirt which allowed a hint of her blue bra holding back medium-sized breasts.
She wrote and passed it back, brushing hair from her face. Hi, I’m bored. LOL. I’m Danielle.
Wow. Nice name! Would you like to go out sometime? I live on campus. Was that too forward?
Thank you. If you’re rich and single, I’ll just marry you.” She drew a smile.
LOL. Not rich, but single. How about tomorrow? Lunch?
Danielle nodded as she read his offer. What time? Pick me up? I live in south San Jose.
Ken drew a frown. No car. Sorry. U?
Danielle pouted. Have to beg to use Mom’s. Parents don’t believe in ‘spoiling’ us kids. Can you steal one?
Ken fantasized undoing her wide, red leather belt and unpeeling her from her tight pants. He fidgeted to reposition his bulging c**k. Don’t know how to steal a car. He drew a frown. Haven’t had that class yet. He passed the note back.
Sorry, don’t think it’d work with no wheels. You’re cute, and I’m in the mood for tall and slender like you. Maybe during the week between classes?
Ken sighed so she’d hear and turned his palms up, indicating helplessness.
She blew him a kiss and mouthed, “Sorry.”
Class mercifully ended, and Ken hummed to the classic Waylon Jennings sad country song, “Mamma’s Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys,” including the line about perennial loneliness. He wanted to talk to Danielle, but two girls occupied her in a conspiracy of laughter.
As he funneled through the door, someone bumped him from behind. He recognized the offender as the small-built guy who sat in the opposite back corner. His boyish features and smooth face stirred Ken’s desires. Ken took in the guy’s majestic blue eyes and boyish facial features. He had stud earrings, along with short, light brown hair on the sides and longer on top. He had bangs and was growing sideburns.
He could be a model.
The hottie slapped a hand to his forehead. “Hey, I’m sorry. Did you get hurt?”
Ken waved it off. “Naw, I’m cool.” He lifted one side of his mouth into a smile.
The guy smiled back as their eyes met. Wanting to speak but unable to come up with anything, Ken moved down the hall. The guy said nothing.
At the outside bicycle rack, the cute guy spoke, “You bike, too?”
Ken faced him. “Yeah. Who can afford a car?”
He extended a hand. “I’m Joel.” His eyes sparkled in the sun, along with his teeth as he smiled.
“I’m Ken.” He checked Joel’s build, maybe five-foot-six or so, about one hundred thirty pounds. Ken had several inches and maybe forty pounds on him. Each unlocked older bikes and peddled north on Bascom Avenue. Ken let his mind wander until he hit a red light. He loved being outdoors. Joel pulled next to him and Ken’s courage rose. “Where you going?”
“The place I stay at, couple miles down the way, in the old Burbank District.” Joel raked his gaze over Ken’s body. The corners of his mouth rose. “How about you?”
“I’m on my way to work as a busboy downtown. I bike through Burbank to get there.” Nervousness restricted him from further chat. When the light turned green, Ken stayed still in the bike lane. Traffic at the busy intersection rolled on.
Joel waited next to Ken. A car behind them honked to nudge them along. “Let’s go up there.” Joel walked his bike to a used car lot.
Ken followed. “You bike a lot?”
“Yeah. No money, no car. Besides, why contribute to pollution?”
Being with Joel instilled a sense of serenity in Ken, unusual for him when near new people. “I agree. Usually on Saturdays, I take long rides. It’s my reward for getting through the week.”
Joel nodded. “I do it to burn stress.” He tucked his lips between his teeth.
A twinge of bravery returned, and Ken queried, “Do you want to bike with me tomorrow?”
“Yeah!” Joel’s voice rose in clear excitement.
Ken lowered his head as though inspecting the sidewalk. “I can’t afford a cell phone, so we should plan now where to meet and what time.”
Joel let out a huge smile.
Ken’s stomach rocked as though a happy depth charge went off. “I work the restaurant in the morning and get off at noon. I can make sandwiches for us.”
“No, don’t get yourself in trouble.” Joel bit his lip again.
“The boss lets me take leftover food and make sandwiches. He knows I’m struggling financially. Sometimes he pays me for more hours than I work.” Ken shook his head. “Sorry, I’m giving you a sob story. I normally keep everything private. Sorry.” He chastised himself for saying sorry so much.
Joel dropped a hand to his shoulder. “Sounds like we’re in the same boat. I’ve lived on the streets.”
The personal contact sent a zing of energy through Ken. His c**k filled, making him happy.
Silence passed between them until Ken ventured, “I’m close to that. Well, hey.” His voice perked up. “How about twelve-thirty tomorrow, right here?”
“Thanks. See you tomorrow.” Joel biked off, giving a friendly, almost too long, pat to Ken’s arm.
Ken watched Joel’s petite and tight ass, wishing it were already Saturday and wondering what it would be like to be with a guy sexually.