A HUNDRED THOUSAND WORDS.

BY.

NYRAE DAWN.

Dedication:.

This book is dedicated to anyone who has ever felt different for any reason. To anyone who has ever crushed on someone from afar.

And to anyone who has ever feared losing those they love.

You only live once. Make it count.

CHAPTER ONE.

It was my best friend's older brother who made me realize I'm gay. Sure, I'd wondered before. I mean, a part of me had to have known, but it was Levi who made me admit it to myself. Or rather, it was the fact that when I really started jerking off on the regular, it was to thoughts of him. It didn't matter that he was an a.s.shole-a straight-as-straight-could-be a.s.shole-he was the star player in a whole h.e.l.l of a lot of my fantasies growing up.

But then I went away for college and made all of those fantasies and more come true. Not with Levi because of the whole being a straight a.s.shole thing, but once I was out of Coburn, the small town in Oregon where I grew up, I didn't need to pine after the guy I'd never have. I was in San Francisco for f.u.c.k's sake. Home had a shortage of gay guys to choose from, but San Francisco was an all-you-could-eat buffet.

Now it's winter break and I'm home from college, so of course the Levi-factor is in effect again. His family is throwing a holiday party and I'm sitting on their living room couch watching Levi do what he does best: charming a group of women. He must be telling some kind of joke or something because they're laughing and smiling, all eyes pinned on him. He was always the golden child-straight A's in school, popular, good at sports. Maybe that's why I wanted him so much. He was everything I wasn't. Not that I want to be those things, because I don't, but on him they're s.e.xy as h.e.l.l.

He flashes a smile at his admirers that gives me a tingle in my b.a.l.l.s. Groaning, I try to look away but can't. He's always had this magnetic energy that sucks me in.

His hickory-brown hair has grown out since I saw him last. It's hanging in his face, almost blocking his dark eyes. When he grins, big and bright, his thin lips stretched wide, the group does the same, smiling at him. It's like when someone yawns and you're powerless not to yawn yourself. Sometimes it's as though he lends you some of his confidence, or at least I tell myself that. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who feels that way as everyone looks at him like he's teaching them to hang the moon. But then he has to go overboard when he puts his arms out, flexing his biceps. That's when I roll my eyes and look away.

"What a f.u.c.king idiot." My best friend Chris sits next to me on the couch. We met in fifth grade and we've been tight ever since. I was the quiet kid before I met Chris. Take after my dad that way, I guess, but Chris pulled me out of my sh.e.l.l.

We were always doing something stupid when we were kids. Nothing too outrageous: got caught drinking and smoking a few times, missing curfew. He stole two Playboy magazines for us to jack off to, which was when I first realized there was something different between the two of us. Naked girls and t.i.ts did nothing for me. I pretended to come as hard as he told me he did, and then a few months later, I was forgoing the magazines in favor of mental images of his brother.

"Eh," I reply, because talking about Levi with Chris never goes well. He's always had issues with his brother.

"Watch them, though-women eat him up. I don't f.u.c.king get it. I swear to G.o.d if Gemma falls for him I'm going to beat his a.s.s."

Laughing, I look at Chris. His hair's the same shade of brown as Levi's but it's shorter. Chris has always had this jealousy thing with his brother, which I guess is probably normal. I don't have siblings so I wouldn't know. His concerns aren't too farfetched, though. Every girl who spends more than five minutes with Levi ends up falling for him. I can see why Chris would be jealous, especially because Chris had been in love with some of them. Or at least, he'd wanted to screw them. There was one girl in particular who Chris had been into. They'd f.u.c.ked around a few times and the next thing we knew, Levi was taking her out. Chris hasn't forgiven him for that one.

"I'm sure your girl isn't going to fall for your brother." If I don't change the subject, he'll go off on all the ways he can't stand Levi, and I'll want to stab my eardrums so I don't have to hear it all for the millionth time. Nudging him, I say, "It's kind of good to be home for winter break. I missed this."

This being his family. My dad was around and he tried his best, but it wasn't easy for him to support us. He worked all the time to make ends meet, and Chris's family let me pretend like I belonged there because Chris and I were close. It made things easier on Dad. He misses Mom more every time he looks at me.

"When will Gemma be here?" I ask. Chris went and fell in love our soph.o.m.ore year of college. Since I'm in San Francisco and Chris's school is back East, this break will be the first time I meet her.

Before he replies, loud laughter erupts from the other side of the room and I glance over to see Levi sitting by the table with his head tilted back, letting out belly laughs. I watch his throat move. He has a really s.e.xy throat I wouldn't be averse to kissing...and I really need to shut my G.o.dd.a.m.ned brain down and stop l.u.s.ting after Chris's brother. Even if there was a chance in h.e.l.l I could bang Levi, I'm pretty sure Chris would lose his f.u.c.king mind if I did. Chris is the best friend I've ever had, my only real one, and I wouldn't sacrifice that for anything.

"A few days. She's incredible, Toby. You'll love her. I can't wait for you to meet her." Chris nudges me the same way I nudged him a minute before, so I pull my attention away from Levi and back to him. "What about you? You said there were all kinds of dudes to choose from at school."

While I'm glad he feels comfortable talking to me about this, discussing my s.e.x life with him isn't something I'm in the mood to do. With Chris it's all roses and hearts and love. With me it's a.s.s and hands and mouths. Big difference in what we're looking for.

"There were plenty of guys." I wink. "So many, in fact, I feel like I'd be doing them a disservice if I got serious about any of them. Who buys the first car they test drive?" That's what going off to school was about for me. Yes, there's the education, but I really wanted to live and experience all the s.h.i.t I couldn't while at home. I'm the only queer guy in my small town-the only one I know of, anyway-and I never had an opportunity to experience much of anything before leaving for San Fran.

Portland, which isn't far away, has a great gay population, but it wasn't always easy for me to get there when I was younger.

Chris has always been sympathetic to my situation in Coburn, but my brand of loneliness isn't something he can really understand. It's easier not to mention it much.

Still, he's really the only person I have in my life who wants to be there for me. He never gave a s.h.i.t that he was hanging out with not only the only gay kid in town, but the only black kid, too. He was my boy from the start and I was his. Reason number two I need to end my obsession with the oldest Baxter son. They're like family to me, or at least they've always accepted me as such.

More laughter from the other side of the room. Nearly everyone at the party is congregating around Levi and he's making the holiday party all the merrier, soaking up being the center of everyone's universe.

"He's such a f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Always has to be in the middle of everything," Chris says, each of his words making me feel guiltier and guiltier, because as much as he can't stand his brother, and as much as I love Chris, I understand the draw of Levi. There's something about him, and even after all these years, I have to grudgingly admit that it's still pulling me in, too.

It's a couple hours later when I'm sitting in the yard on a two-person swing. We got lucky and ended up with a few hours of sunshine-something that doesn't happen often during December in Oregon-so I'm soaking it in.

We ate a while ago. The party has thinned out a bit, and Chris went to the store with his mom. My dad isn't here. The Baxters invited him-they always do, and he always appreciates it-but he likes being alone too much. He has ever since Mom left us. He never got over losing her, and if that's what losing someone does to a guy, count me the f.u.c.k outta ever being in a serious relationship.

There's movement on the side of the house, a flash of color, and I look up and see Levi kneeling, his back against the house and his face buried in his hands.

What the h.e.l.l?

It almost looks like he's rocking, like his hands are knotted in his hair. Then, just like that, he pushes to his feet, straightens out his clothes, and turns around.

His eyes land on me instantly. And then...he smiles, his body language one hundred percent different than it was a minute ago.

In long, confident strides, Levi makes his way to me, making me wonder if I misjudged what I'd seen.

He's wearing a long-sleeved shirt that hugs his chest and arms and a pair of loose jeans riding low on his hips. Dude, I love that. Love seeing the edge of a guy's boxers sticking out over his jeans and rubbing my tongue along the seam.

"How's it goin' T-Rex? Enjoying your soph.o.m.ore year?" He plops down onto the seat beside me, his arm, hot and hard, brushes against mine. He doesn't move and I sure as h.e.l.l don't move because he's gorgeous and I definitely don't mind a gorgeous guy touching me. I do, however, wish he didn't call me T-Rex.

"Don't call me that."

"Dinosaurs, man. That's all I have to say. You were what, ten or eleven when we met you? I think you were obsessed with dinosaurs until you were at least sixteen."

"f.u.c.k off." But what he's said is pretty close to the truth. I used to want to be a paleontologist, which is funny considering I'm now an English major. Plus, those aren't the kind of bones I'm into anymore, but it was a good aspiration for a kid.

"Embarra.s.sed?" he teases, his voice a little softer than it usually is.

"No. And I was fourteen when I stopped liking dinosaurs. You can give it up now." There's nothing like the object of your fantasies seeing you as nothing more than a kid who he calls T-Rex.

"Aww, but I like to call you T-Rex." Levi wraps an arm around my neck, and then pretends to ruffle my nonexistent hair. I keep it cut short enough that his attempt is impossible. And yeah, did I mention he treats me like a f.u.c.king kid?

"Get off." I shove his arm away and Levi lets me.

"I'm just giving you s.h.i.t. It's good to see you."

First, if he wanted to see me, it wouldn't be hard considering he's at Stanford School of Medicine and I'm thirty miles away at San Francisco State University. And second, I wish he was thinking it's good to see me naked, but hey, I'll take what I can get. "Yeah, it's good to be home."

Levi laughs humorlessly. "If you say so."

At that, I turn to face him. That's not something I would ever expect Levi to say. Yeah, everyone's always known Levi's too big for Coburn, but I thought he'd always loved home, too. Ever since he was a kid we all knew he'd grow up to be a big-shot doctor like his dad. Levi's the guy who has everything and everyone loves him, so I'm not sure why he would hate being back here temporarily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He doesn't answer right away. As he runs a finger over a seam on the swing's arm, he's almost subdued-like he's a different guy than the one who was laughing and joking earlier, a different guy than the one I've always known. "Nothing. Ignore me, T-Rex. I'll catcha later, yeah?" Without waiting for me to reply, Levi gets up and walks away, and I'm still sitting here trying to figure out what in the h.e.l.l happened.

CHAPTER TWO.

"Dude, I think that guy's checking you out." Chris points across the mall's food court. "That one right there."

"What the h.e.l.l? Put your hand down! Don't point!" There's a smacking sound when I swat at his hand, and then Chris lowers it.

"He just looked again, bro. Go talk to him."

Yeah, because that's going to happen. I'm sixteen years old and the only experience I have with boys is online or watching p.o.r.n, and I'm pretty sure neither of those count. Plus, how do I even know if he's gay or not? "Nah, I'm cool."

"Toby..."

"No. Let it go, Chris." Jesus. I appreciate the effort but things aren't the same for me as they are for him. I wouldn't know the first thing about talking to a guy, and I sure as s.h.i.t don't have the b.a.l.l.s just to walk up to someone when I don't even know if they're queer or not.

"Sorry, man, I'm just sayin'. It's not often we get to come into Portland and since there's no one in Coburn..."

Believe me, I get it. I'm the one who lives it. Still doesn't mean I'm going to talk to some random dude, though. It also doesn't mean there's not always this ache in my gut, embarra.s.sment too because I'm older than Chris but he obviously has more experience than I do. I forget that sometimes, if I hadn't failed kindergarten, Chris and I probably wouldn't be friends right now.

"What time is it? Maybe you should text her again?" It's a s.h.i.tty subject change, because I know Chris doesn't want to talk about Sue anymore than I want to talk about random pretty boy in the mall.

"I've texted like fifteen times. She's not coming." He looks down at his hands, and a pang hits my chest for him. "Levi's never going to stop teasing me about this. I wish Mom wouldn't have made him drive us here." We were supposed to meet a girl here that Chris has been crushing on. He asked his mom to drop us off, but she couldn't. His dad didn't have time, and my dad doesn't do stuff like that, so we were stuck with Levi since we don't have our licenses yet. "I can't believe she bailed on me."

Chris rubs his nose, making me wonder if he might cry. I've never seen him cry over something like this, but I know how bad he really wants a girlfriend. Levi probably had five at the same time at our age, and everything's always a compet.i.tion when it comes to them. Or at least, Chris feels like he always has to catch up to his brother.

"If she ditched you, she's not worth your time. f.u.c.k her."

Chris grins. "She has small t.i.ts, too."

"I wouldn't notice." I shrug and he laughs.

We're quiet for a few minutes, people-watching, when he says, "Are you sure you don't wanna try...? This doesn't have to be a bust for you. I can...like go talk to him or whatever. See if he's gay and tell him you're interested if you want."

Risking a glance, I look over at the guy. He looks our way and smiles, making my stomach drop. It's a cool-a.s.s thing Chris is offering. Most guys wouldn't do it, but he always has my back. He's the only person in my life who really does. The guy turns, and then I do as well. I wouldn't even know what to do with him if he was interested. "Nah, that's cool. Good lookin' out, though."

"I got you." We b.u.mp fists and then Levi walks up with whatever girl he's banging this week.

"You twerps ready to go? And no girl? Aww, did my little brother get stood up? I wouldn't know what that feels like." Levi winks at Chris, and the girl on his arm giggles.

"f.u.c.k you!" Chris shoves up from his chair and starts to walk away.

"I was kidding, man. Chill out. I'm sorry, bro!"

Levi actually sounds pretty sincere about being sorry-at least he does to me-but Chris doesn't stop walking until we get to the car. He's quiet the whole way home. I spend my time feeling bad for him and feeling like s.h.i.t for me, too. I should have talked to that guy. Sue shouldn't have ditched out on Chris.

When they drop me off at home, Chris and I b.u.mp fists again. When I get in the house, I head straight to the kitchen. Dad's sitting at the table, doing a puzzle. For nearly five minutes I stand there watching him, waiting for him to realize I'm there. Wishing he'd ask me how it went and that I could tell him that I don't know how to talk to boys. He might not be able to help, but at least I could talk to him about it.

But he doesn't notice I'm there. Eventually, I turn around, go to my room, and spend the rest of the evening there.

When I get home from the party at the Baxter's, I know exactly where to find my dad. "Hey, Dad, I brought you a plate."

He looks up at me from his chair in front of the TV. There's a basketball game on and I'm sure he'd rather give the game his full attention than me. Dad loves sports. He watches any and all of 'em that he can. He played a lot in school as well, from what I've been told. I played a little baseball-didn't hate it, didn't love it, it was just a thing I did. Maybe because I knew he'd like it. It gave us something to talk about, when normally we struggle for words.

"Thanks. It smells great." He reaches a hand out to me and takes the plate. His dark skin looks thin, frail, as though it would rip easily even though he's not very old. My grandmother gives him s.h.i.t for not taking better care of himself. She's the only person my dad really listens to. She's a tough old lady from the South who dealt with a lot of racism growing up, but she never let it jade her. Make her tough as h.e.l.l? Yes. Jaded? No.

Dad told me he was scared to bring a white woman home when he met Mom, but my grandma didn't bat an eye. It seems crazy to me that he would have to worry about that, but then I was scared to tell him I'm gay and he couldn't have cared less. Logically, I should have known he wouldn't have much of a response since he doesn't care about much of anything. It's not how he's built.

When I remember he thanked me for the food, I reply, "No problem."

"Did you have fun?" he asks.

"Yeah, it was good to see everyone." And then silence. Neither of us knows or has anything to say from here. It's not that we don't love each other in our way. He doesn't say it and doesn't show it, but I figure he has to. He stayed when Mom leftthe last time when she bailed for good, and the few other times she'd disappeared in my life. He came home that night she'd ghosted, when I was scared and alone and didn't know what to do. That has to mean something. We just don't know what to say. We have nothing in common. Mom left, and then I met Chris and the Baxters let me hang out with them, so Dad and I never learned how to talk to each other. He just....let go.

"Food's good," he says after about fifteen minutes. The words carry a hint of pain in them, as though he too is thinking about how we don't know how to talk to each other.

"Yeah, it was. They always make a good meal."

My dad and I aren't big cooks. My roommate at school talks about how he misses his mom's cooking. Mine hadn't been real fond of making meals for her family.

"I'm going to go hit the shower." I stand before spouting the lie I'm about to give him because getting out of here is better than fumbling for words. "I'm meeting Chris. We're going out tonight." Since I've been away at school I've forgotten what it's like to live with my dad-a guy who I love, but who also might as well be a stranger. Sometimes I think he lives off his loneliness. He doesn't need good food or friends or company. He sure as h.e.l.l doesn't need me.

"Okay, have fun." Dad gives his attention back to the TV and I make my escape. My shower is quick and then I change into my favorite jeans and a green, fitted T-shirt with a V-neck. It looks good on me. I've been told that more than once. Men seem to dig the combination of my light brown skin and green eyes. The shirt makes my eyes stand out, "pop" or some s.h.i.t like that. At least that's what they say before I stick my tongue down their throats.

"See ya later," I call out as I leave. Dad mumbles a goodbye, and then I hop into my Honda and make the thirty-minute drive into Portland.

I could have called Chris and done something with him, but if I'm being honest, that's not really where my head's at tonight. My mood leaves me with two choices: Grindr or making the trip into Portland for a club. Even though I'm underage, clubbing is a possibility because this guy I met at school hooked me up with an incredibly realistic fake ID. It's never let me down.

Since it's still early, I kill a little time with a stop by a coffee shop. I fuel up on caffeine and then I'm on my way. When I get to the trendy neighborhood where the club is supposed to be, I see a line winding partway down the block. A good sign that Touch must be a pretty good place to go. I'm curious how the clubs here differ from those in the Bay Area. I haven't been able to hit any up in Oregon.

My pulse kicks up, going faster and faster the closer I get to the head of the line. I won't get caught, never have, but adrenaline always shoots through me until the second they hand the ID back and let me go inside.

Tonight the door routine goes the same as it always does. Inside feels familiar, too. The music b.u.mping, ba.s.s making the walls vibrate, hundreds of men dancing and grinding against each other. Some talking, drinking, and, "Hey, s.e.xy." A hand runs down my arm.