A Busted Afternoon Read Online Free Page A

fucking stupid, Ed, okay? You’re going to get sick out here. You should stay with your car.”
    “You want me to get back to the car, then you’ve got to walk me back.”
    Sammy spat on the ground, leaving a small crimson pool that quickly washed away. “Why are you so fucking stubborn?”
    “I’m not the one who… Look, I’m sorry, all right? Shit.”
    “Get back to your car, or I’ll knock you
out and drag you back there.” Sammy didn’t know if he meant it or not.
He never wanted to hurt Ed, but sometimes he couldn’t exactly think
clearly around him.
    “I’d like to see you try it.”
    “Aren’t you bleeding enough?”
    “You’re the one with the split lip.”
    Sammy growled and took a swing. It was
supposed to be a warning, but the pressure of flesh against his fists,
the warmth of skin beneath the cold rain, pushed him too far. Heat
flashed through his body, and he wanted more. He wanted his muscles to
burn. He wanted to exhaust himself.
    Ed hit the pavement, water sluicing over
him. As soon as Sammy looked down, the urge to fight drained from him.
Despite his recently acquired muscles, Ed still seemed smaller than
him. Still seemed like somebody who needed his protection. The heat of
the fight was overwhelmed, washed out, by cold terror.
    “Ed? Jesus. I’m sorry. I am. I…are you
okay?” He bent, leaning close to continue his apologies over the roar
of the thunder. “Ed?”
    Ed moved without warning, slamming his
head into Sammy’s face. It wasn’t quite enough to draw blood, but the
pain was immense. Sammy caught his breath, and each time he blinked,
more pain roared through him. He stumbled backward, into the road, and
Ed jumped to his feet like the previous blow had barely been a sting.
    “You want to fight me?” Ed demanded.
    “I want you to go back to your car!” The words were muddled by his swelling lips.
    “I already told you I’m not going to go
back by myself.” Ed put his hands up, bent his knees, and squared his
shoulders. “If you want to fight about it, then let’s fight. I’ll drag
you back to the car if I have to.”
    “You wanted me to go. I’m giving you what you want. So get off my ass.”
    “You scared I’m going to kick your ass?”
    “No.”
    “Then what are you scared of?” Ed
demanded, his fists still in front of his face. The set determination
on Ed’s face, the way he held his shoulders, every line of his body,
told Sammy that Ed was ready for a real fight.
    “Fuck. Everything.”
    “What?”
    “Every fucking thing, okay?”
    “What?” Ed blinked. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
    “Aren’t you afraid? Isn’t that why you took off without a fucking word to anybody? Don’t tell me you’re not.”
    “I…”
    “Just be honest. You’re fucking terrified.”
    “Stop acting like we’re alike. We’re not. We’re…”
    “What’s your number?”
    Ed’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t lower his fists. “I told you. I’ll go when they call me.”
    “What is it?”
    “My birthday is the eighteenth of February. Eighth in the draft order.”
    Sammy winced. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know.”
    “What’s yours?”
    “January eighth. Three-hundred and forty-first in the order.”
    “Well,” Ed sneered, “that’s just great, isn’t it?”
    “Fighting with me isn’t going to change anything.”
    “What will?”
    The question stopped Sammy. They stared at
each other for a long beat before he finally said, “Nothing. Nothing is
going to change this. This shit…all of it…is out of our hands.”
    “Then what the hell are we supposed to do?”
    The corner of Sammy’s mouth lifted. “Be smart enough to get out of the rain, maybe?”
    “Yeah.” Ed released a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe that would be a good start.”

Chapter 3
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    The second time they wedged into the back of the
station wagon, Ed didn’t have any thought of leaving again. The cold
had seeped through his flesh, spreading like icy