Page 8 of Birthday Boy

Walking away briskly, I grab my items as quickly as possible and hope he doesn’t catch a break so I can check out without the hassle of his presence. It’s not till I’m safely back in my car that I realize I grabbed all my normal items without a second thought of Cole. It gives me a small hope that I can get over my recent infatuation.

Cole

“You like that? You like this big cock in your tight–”

Icringe,pressingthevolume down as the guy keeps talking as he pummels into her. My hand slows on my hard cock, trying to focus on the ass of the brunette in the video. She was my favorite because the color of her hair reminded me of Olivia, even the slight pinkish undertone of her pale skin was similar. I preferred the shots that didn’t show her face because it was easier to think of someone else. But this particular video was getting on my nerves. Or maybe it’s the fact I’ve had the real thing, and the fantasy doesn’t come close.

Pumping my cock a few times, it finally deflates when I catch the smell leaking in from the kitchen. Exiting out of the porn, I put myself away in my boxers and kneel to reach the window above my bed. I shove it open, using my math textbook to wave out the stench. I know they don’t care if the smell of their vice cooking seeps into my clothes or school supplies, but I sure do. It’s embarrassing to see the uncertain glances as I pass, wondering if they recognize the smell and worrying they think I’m high.

This is why I try never to come home. Not that my mom ever notices if I am here or not. Flopping down onto my bed, I debate heading over to Jensen’s house. It’s been a week since my birthday, and I’ve had excuses not to come over every day. I know he will start to get suspicious soon, but I needed to give Olivia some time to herself.

If it were up to me, I would never leave her house. In fact, I would crawl into her bed and sleep next to her every single night. But she was spooked, and I knew I had to ease her into the idea of us. A giggle and then a moan pierces through my wall, and I grimace. Rolling off my bed, I change into shorts and T-shirt. I plan to make my run long enough to outlast any of her clients tonight. I make sure to grab my phone in case I decide not to come back at all.

Jogging down the stairs, I barely miss the old man standing at the bottom. His thin white t-shirt has yellow stains on his armpits, and dark spots litter the stretched material over his bulging belly. He scratches his side and then pulls up the ragged shorts, slipping over his greasy skin. Mr. Rodgers is the epitome of a slumlord. I’m sure he gets away with everything because once he washes off all the gunk and grime to don a suit for court, he looks like any other average white man.

“Boy! Where’s ya momma at?” he grunts, removing the lit cigarette from his mouth.

I shrug. “Haven’t seen her.”

His beady eyes narrow and glance down my body, his tongue dragging across his chapped lips. “She’s late givin’ me my money.”

Stepping back, I shrug again. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mr.Rodgers. I barely see her.”

“Well someone gotta pay. Either you or your momma. And if you ain’t got cash, I’m sure we can work somethin’ else out.” His gaze moves pointedly to my crotch.

Bile rises up my throat, and I back away further. I could easily overtake him if he tried something, but I honestly don’t want to touch him at all. “I’m sure the police would love to hear about you asking for sexual favors from a minor.”

I doubt he knows I turned eighteen last week, but he knows I’m still in high school, at least. His dirty face blanches, and he shoves the cigarette back into his mouth as he moves away from the stairs.

“Ain’t doin’ nothin’ like that,” he grumbles as he turns and walks away from where I’m still standing.

My teeth grind as I watch him knock on someone else’s door. An apartment that I’m sure has a young girl and her single mom. My fists clenched, unsure what to do.

“Leave it. Getting you and your mom kicked out won’t change a thing.”

I glance at the deep voice to my right. My body relaxes as I take in Wyatt smoking on his porch. He holds out his joint, and I shake my head.

“Can’t. I’m in season.”

He smiles, his teeth bright in the darkness of the shadows. “How’s that going? I never see you around much.”

Sitting next to him, I sigh as my chest aches. Without Wyatt, I’m sure there were a few times when I was younger that I would have died. He always seemed to know when my mom would go on days-long benders and would sneak into our home to bring me back into his. As I got older, I could tell he could barely afford to feed himself, let alone a small child he never asked for. That was when I started spending more nights at Jensen’s as I recognized the signs so I wouldn’t be left to fend for myself.

“It’s good. The team is solid this year. I think we have a good chance for championships.”

Wyatt bumps his shoulder against mine. “I’m sure those college scouts are swarming around you.”

“Yeah, maybe. So the coach says,” I mumble. I haven’t given much thought to college yet.

He exhales the smoke slowly, then stamps the lit end out against the concrete before tucking the roach behind his ear. “Get out of here, Cole. Do what you gotta do, but don’t think about your momma or even me for a second.”

My jaw tightens, and I glance over at him. His dark eyes are watching me with their usual warmth. “You understand me, son?”

I nod, turning away as my vision blurs a bit. “Yeah, I got you.”

He pats my back and then stands. “It’s Friday night. Go have fun or whatever you kids do. Don’t linger around this dump.”

Olivia

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