Page 120 of Worthy

The cabin looks a lot different than I remember. It’s in dire need of a paint job with a couple of broken windows, and the porch looks rotten. “Yeah, I don’t think I’d count on that.”

“I have to peeeee,” she whines, and I walk up the stairs, watching out for the broken boards on the porch, moving to unlock the door, but finding it unlocked. That’s just fantastic.

Sarah rushes past me and finds the bathroom quickly. I hear a flush—she must have tested it before she actually went—and then I hear, “Oh thank God.” The bathroom door closes, and I look around. It’s dusty and outdated but really not too bad.

The wooden floors don’t look as rotten as the porch and are actually in pretty good shape. The couch looks nearly unused, and there’s even a television that appears fairly new.

I see the leather recliner my grandfather sat in when he wanted to relax, and a brief smile forms on my face. I do recall I liked being around him. He was the strong, silent type, for sure, but I always felt safe around him. Loved even.

Not that I lacked love in my life. My parents are great, they really are. But I never thought I could tell them I’m gay. I’d put it off over and over again, terrified of what they might say.

Yes, I know I’m a chicken.

But now, I’m in the Ozarks in my very own cabin. I puff my chest out, feeling a sense of freedom because I can finally be myself here. I can do anything I want to without it getting back to my parents or my aunts and uncles. Seriously, you can’t do anything in our town without everyone knowing about it the same day.

Sarah walks out of the bathroom, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I swear if this shithole didn’t have running water, I’d be out of here in a minute. You know I need my shower, and that bathtub is perfection.”

I laugh, remembering the old cast-iron tub the cabin has. “I’ll let you have the baths.”

She shakes her head at me. “You’re so missing out. There’s nothing like a good bubble bath.” Hands on her small hips, she looks around. “So what are we doing first?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should look around. I know it has three bedrooms. You can have your pick.”

“Aw, you’re so good to me, Mace,” she teases, wrapping her arm around my shoulder but having to reach up as I lean down to her short height. “Let’s do this.”

We head up the stairs and find two bedrooms, one of which she claims because the view is pretty great, though she informs me she’ll be using my bathroom for the tub since hers only has a shower.

I’m fine with that and claim the primary bedroom down on the main level. We haul our bags into our own rooms, each thankfully furnished with queen-sized beds and a small dresser.

I lie down flat on my back on my bed, noticing it’s a little lumpy but not too bad. I look up at the wooden ceiling and think about the next step. I smile when I feel Sarah’s weight as she flops down next to me. “This place is really fucking cool.”

“Yeah?” I turn my head to look at her.

“Yeah. We should go out and get you laid.”

I startle for a moment, turning on my side and propping my head up on my hand. “What? No. And why just me? Why not you too?”

She laughs and rolls to her side, mimicking my position. “I’m an artist. I’m an observer. So I have to take my time.”

I playfully shove her arm, making her fall back on the bed. “You’re not watching me get laid.”

She crinkles her nose. “Gross. I would never.”

I laugh. “How about dinner instead of the getting laid part? And we need to look for jobs tomorrow.”

She groans loudly. “You, Mason, are a fun ruiner.”

“I know. But that’s why you love me.” I sit up and grab her hand, pulling her up while she moans and groans, bitching all the way to the front door.

But my heart races with excitement.

This is the beginning of something great.

I just know it.

Chapter three

Owen

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