Chapter Adam
Adam
“Come on, Bates.” I toss the now empty beer bottle into one of the trash cans and shake my head again at Teddy Sheldon as he and Michael Rich try to get me to leave the town’s street dance and head out to the lake.
It’s Kensley Days. Right before school starts. The end of the summer. It’s a whole thing in this town. They start with bingo and biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Then there’s a small carnival and booths set up with homemade shit people bring from towns over to sell.
All ending with a pig roast and barbecue for dinner followed by a street dance. A dance literally in the middle of the street with a live band. We go every year. The whole town.
Because it’s tradition. And I’m a man of tradition. The Bates family is a staple in this town, going back to my great-great-grandfather. We own land here. We farm the land. We provide.
My entire family is here-minus my brother Jameson. He’s busy being shacked up and in love with his former teammate, Garrison Dixon. Fucking crazy. But no, it doesn’t bother me. Not at all. I’m happy for my brother.
Maybe a little disappointed that he wanted out of Kensley so badly and that he didn’t want anything to do with the land our family owns—our legacy. He’d rather live in Hayes and work landscaping than farm the land. Which is fine.
He didn’t want this life, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted. There’s nothing wrong with tradition. Not in my opinion.
And speaking of tradition, every damn year, it’s me and my best friend Zachary at this street dance.
Both of us always avoiding actually dancing—neither of us like people all that much.
We keep to ourselves for the most part and that’s just fine with me, except right now I can’t find my best friend.
Last time I saw him was an hour ago, heading to get us some food while we hung out with some of the guys from the team that don’t seem to take the hint that we don’t want to leave the dance to go to the lake to party.
Yeah, I’ll have a beer here and there, but I don’t go and get shitfaced. I rarely go to any parties. It’s just not my thing. I have to get up early every morning. I have responsibilities.
And I take them seriously. Someday, that farm will be mine and I intend for it to be in the absolute best shape when that happens. I want to make sure I can take care of my parents in their golden years. Let them rest for once in thier lives.
It’s not going to be Jameson that does that. It will be me. And that’s honestly the way I prefer it. I thought for sure, I’d have to battle my brother for that right, but he didn’t want it.
I do.
“I’m not going to the lake.” I say again as my teammates try yet again to get me to ditch the
“Come the fuck on.” Teddy pushes my shoulder, irritating the hell out of me. “I’m sure Olson is probably already out there. Probably getting laid, which is what you need to be doing too.”
I roll my eyes at that. First of all, Zach would never ditch me here and certainly not to go to the lake. Not to get laid or to do anything else. But second of all, why the hell is everyone always so concerned about getting me laid? I just turned eighteen yesterday.
Know what I did for my eighteenth birthday?
Exactly what I wanted to do. I woke up. I did my chores. I showered. Had breakfast with my family and then I hung out with Zach at the lake—swimming. Which is all I wanted to do before I dragged my tired ass back home and into bed. To do it all again today.
“Just go.” I say, waving them off as I find my way through the crowd, looking for Zach. I swear I find everyone else. My parents. Parent’s of my friends. Some friends. Some guys that I played football with, but have graduated since.
Where the hell is Zach?
I navigate through the crowded main street of our town and that’s when I see him.
Sitting across the street at the park on the damn carousel.
I make my way across the street and grip the handles of the carousel—they used to be painted blue but are mostly rust now.
“What the hell are you doing over here all by yourself?”
My tone isn’t stern—not with Zach. It never is with Zach. He looks up at me with his emerald eyes, his dark hair a total mess like he’s had one hell of a night and I realize then that his eyes are rimmed in red, looking tired and worn like no eighteen year old ever should.
“What’s going on?” I sit down next to him, my shoes in the dirt.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.” I say easily as I turn my head to look at him.
He just shrugs his shoulders, “Saw Chloe.”
God damn it. Of course that’s what’s going on.
Look, I don’t dislike Chloe. Not really.
But they broke up years ago. She needs to let it go, but she can’t seem to.
She runs her mouth all the damn time about how Zach is a shitty person and a was a terrible boyfriend—which for the record, I was there and he wasn’t a bad boyfriend at all.
He treated her like a queen, but they grew apart. When he broke things off with her, she lost it. Completely and she hasn’t let up since.
“What did she say?”
Again with another shrug. But he answers, “Just called me a prick and then went on with her friends. It wasn’t bad.”
I grit my teeth because it is bad—Zach is not a prick. He’s one of the nicest guys I know and it’s killing him that he hurt her. But what the hell was he supposed to do? Just date her forever even though he didn’t want to?
I think that would have been way worse, but I keep my mouth shut. “Where’s Anna and Mary?”
“Staying with grandma tonight.” I nod, silently happy that his little sisters aren’t stuck at home tonight. Anna is thirteen and has a lot of friends, so most weekends she isn’t at home anyway, Mary is only eight and while she has a couple of little friends she can stay with—it’s not every weekend.
Things were so different just around eight years ago, when Zach’s father was still here. He was a damn good dad. Hardworking and fiercely protective, but died in an accident on the oil rig he was working on. Nothing has been the same thing since.
Their mom was pregnant with Mary at the time. Scared and alone with three kids. She married her husband’s best friend, Elliot Finch, despite him being a total asshole.
I can’t say that I blame her. She got married right out of high school and her husband was the breadwinner, he made the money and she took care of the kids and the house.
I know she didn’t know what to do—she convinced herself she could love Elliot, but the truth is no one should. He’s an abusive prick and a drunk. Most of the time his abuse is verbal, but I’ve seen enough bruises on Zach to know that sometimes it get physical.
I’d love to beat the shit of out the son of a bitch—he’s built, in good shape from years of hard labor—but between me and Zach he wouldn’t stand a chance, but Zach won’t do it.
He loves his sisters too damn much to risk getting kicked out and not being able to protect them. He’s eighteen, but they won’t be for a while.
“Wanna stay at my place?” He nods his head slowly and I watch him stand up, a little wobbly on his feet and I shake my head at him, with a small smile. “You’re drunk.”
It wasn’t a question, but he argues with me anyway. “No. I just had a couple.”
I laugh at him, standing up and putting my arm around his shoulders, shoulders that also quake a little with each step because he definitely had more than he can handle.
Neither of us are big drinkers, but it doesn’t matter to anyone in town that we are underage, we’re Panthers.
If they see us at an event like this, they offer us a beer.
Apparently tonight Zach partook.
“Lets get your drunk ass to bed.” I say as we stumble along the sidewalk from the park. I finished the one beer I had tonight a while ago, so I’m fine to drive home. I wouldn’t if I felt even a little bit of the alcohol in my system.
I drive the short distance to my house out in the country and park before helping Zach out of the truck and up the stairs of the porch of the old farmhouse that was built by my grandfather.
My parents must still be at the dance, so thankfully we don’t run into them or my younger brothers as I help him up the stairs to my bedroom. I used to share it with Jameson, but it’s all mine now.
He plops down on my bed, his fingers going through his dark hair, like I assumed he’s been doing most of tonight. I go to my knees by the bed and yank his shoes and socks off. “I can do it myself.” He slurs slightly. I think he’s to the sleepy part of drunk and for some reason it makes me smile.
“Yeah yeah.” I toss his shoes and socks to the side and stand up. “You sleeping like that?” I ask, gesturing to his clothes—just a red Panthers t-shirt and jeans.
“Nah.” He says groggily and lifts his shirt up over his head, tossing it somewhere before he flops back on my bed.
I’ve seen him like this too many times to count.
It’s nothing new. We’re teammates on just about every team the school has to offer and he’s stayed here every night he could since his mom married Elliot.
He fumbles with the buttons on his jeans a couple of times, his hands flopping down next to him. “Eh, fuck it.”
I chuckle as I watch his eyes slowly close, “You’re so damn lazy.”
“Fuck you, Bates.” He says, his eyes still closed and his hand lazily waving a middle finger my way.
I don’t think too hard about it when I flick the button on his jeans loose and lower the zipper. He helps me push the jeans down, leaving him in black boxer briefs. His eyes are still closed and I look away, leaving his jeans on the pile of clothes and shoes.
I go over to my dresser, shedding my shirt and jeans before pulling on a pair of joggers and then turning off the lights. He’s passed out on top of the covers, but I managed to maneuver his big ass under the covers on the opposite side of mine and then climb in with him.
Sleeping in the same bed with Zach is just familiar at this point.
I’m sure if any of our friends found about it they’d have something stupid to say about it—epically since my brother came out as bisexual not too long ago, but none of that really matters to me.
All that matters is that Zach is safe.
I’ll always do everything in my power to protect him.
No matter what.