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The Drive-in
By
Butters2020
Chapter Two
Bob
Patrick and Davey were working at the Drive-in tonight. Last summer Jeff and me would grab a couple burgers and strawberry shakes before doing whatever we were going to do the rest of the night. But even on our nights off Mr. Chisholm let us have two hot dogs and a pop for free if we were seeing a movie. And a large popcorn apiece. The first feature tonight was some dumb romance movie but the second feature was Return of the Creature. Jeff figured we could suffer through the first one and maybe check out who was parked at Condom Alley. Not walk up to the cars, but maybe see if we recognized them. If we knew who was getting lucky maybe we could get them to tell us who was putting out. I figured they weren't dating any girls we knew. It must be some of the trashy girls from over near the railroad tracks, or by the plant houses by the shoe factory.
That's how I figured it but Jeff wasn't so sure. He was still convinced that Susan Malone was one of the girls but that was just wishful thinking on his part if you asked me. He's had it bad for Susan ever since her pencil rolled off her desk in eighth grade. When she leaned over to pick it up, we could see down her dress. That was before she wore a bra. When she leaned over we saw her titties down her dress. They weren't no real titties to speak of back then, just pointy nipples on a flat chest but Jeff couldn't stop staring at her the rest of the day and it wasn't hard to figure out why he kept his math book in his lap all day, neither.
But just like on our last day off, we didn't get to go to the movies. I was reading a comic book (and I'll thank you not to make fun of me for reading comic books) when Mama told me Mr. Chisholm was on the phone and asking to talk to me.
"Hello?"
"Bob, I know it's your day off but I'm in a lurch and need your help. Turkeyneck's neighbor took him to the hospital down in Atlanta this morning."
"Cripes. Is he dead?"
"Hell no. He ain't about to die before payday. But he's having his gallstones taken out or some such thing. He won't be back for at least a week. I can't get a replacement to start until tomorrow. I need you to work the ticket booth tonight. Can you do it? I'll pay you a buck and a quarter an hour since it's your day off."
I hated to miss hanging out with Jeff, but what could I do? "Sure."
"Thanks, Bobby. I owe you."
When I called Jeff to tell him I thought he'd be disappointed that our free movie night was canceled for the second time. But the only thing he was upset about was that Mr. Chisholm had asked me to fill in for Turkeyneck instead of him.
"You lucky bastard!" he said.
I knew things were tight at their house. I don't know how much money Mrs. Riley made at the Five and Dime but it couldn't have been much. She was only a clerk and just a woman. I guess Mr. Riley paid alimony and child support but I knowed for a fact that even though Jeff's clothes came from Sears and JC Penny, the same as mine, Mrs. Riley's clothes came from the thrift store. Every Christmas and Thanksgiving the church delivered a food basked to their house. I guess they could use the extra seven dollars and fifty cents more than I could. The money I made at the drive-in was my money, not household money. It never occurred to me that Jeff's paycheck might go to pay their bills.
But that wasn't it at all. Jeff said, "What Turkeyneck pays attention to and what he don't pay attention to isn't just his business anymore. Tonight, it's your business. You'll get to see who's cheating on their husbands, and wives, and which girls at school are putting out!"
I'll also get to see if Turkeyneck was full of shit about the queers, I thought, but didn't say out loud. "You don't think they'll do a U-turn when they see it's me, and not Turkeyneck, selling tickets?"
"You know any motels cheaper than the drive-in? Once they got that boner going, they're gonna need to bust a nut, less'n they want a case of blue balls."
"It's just for one night. Chisholm says he's gonna get someone to fill in the rest of the week. So we can go to the movies tomorrow. I've already told Mama she's gonna have to give up Family Time with me cuz I need Jeff Time." I knew that sounded queer as soon as I said it. Lucky for me Jeff didn't take it that way.
"I know what you mean. Passing out popcorn and picking up trash don't count as quality time. If Mom knew I spent most mornings collecting used rubbers I don't think she'd keep saying these are the best years of my life so I better appreciate them while I can."
Mr. Chisholm unlocked the ticket booth which looked like a toll booth. It was white, with a big open window the same level as the driver's window of a car that pulled up next to it. There was a stool for me to sit on and a little counter that the cash box sat on.
"It's easy," Mr. Chisholm said. "You charge twenty-five cents for each car, plus twenty-five cents for every passenger. So if it's just a couple, that's seventy-five cents. A double date, you charge a buck twenty-five. A family of five, a dollar fifty."
"Wait, slow down," I said.
"A quarter for the car, plus five quarters for each person in the car. six times twenty-five is a dollar fifty."
"You mean I gotta do math for every car?"
Mr. Chisholm laughed. "Hell no, Bobby. Just look at the paper Turkeyneck taped to the wall. It tells you how much to charge for a car with two people, three people, four people and so on."
"Cripes, why didn't you say so?"
He laughed again. "I like seeing that look of panic on your face." He got serious again. "Pay attention now. If the car is just a couple of high school boys and they're giggling or drunk or both, check the trunk. Guaranteed there are two or three other kids in there trying to get out of paying. And if I catch you letting your friends in for free, you're fired, no questions asked, no second chances. I like you, Bobby, but I'm running a business. We understand each other?"
"Yes, sir. What do I do if there's people in the trunk? I can handle it some of the time, but no offense, a dollar an hour, or even a dollar twenty-five ain't enough for me to risk getting my ass kicked trying to play he-man standing up to someone bigger'n me."
"Just take note of the car's make and model and color and push the intercom button." He pointed to button and speaker I hadn't noticed. "I'll answer from the projection booth and take care of it. Or you can threaten to shoot up the trunk."
"I ain't got no gun!"
"They don't know that do they?"
He got in his golf cart and drove off to the projection room. Davey and Patrick were already at the concession stand, popping popcorn.
The drive-in starts selling tickets at 7:30. It was still fifteen minutes short of that when the first call pulled up. By the time I opened the window to collect a dollar from Mr. Bennet, a long line of cars was lined up behind his Buick. How in the world did Turkeyneck keep track of which cars headed over to Condom Alley?
I was so focused on counting the people in the cars and making change I had no idea where the cars went, though I had a good guess which ones went to Candyland. Terry Macanally's four door Dodge Coronet pulled up. Him and Jerry Dean were in the front seat trying to keep a straight face. "Hey Bob. You been promoted?"
"How many?" I asked.
Jerry giggled. Terry said, "Whatchoo mean? How many do you see?"
"I see two but I hear Moose and Freddy laughing from inside the trunk. How many more are in there?"
"C'mon man, just charge us seventy-five cents and stop being a dick."
"Looks like the trunk fits four people." I checked the paper taped to the wall. "That'll be one seventy-five."
"You're full of shit! There's only them two in the trunk!" Jerry said.
Terry punched him. "Asshole!" A car two or three back honked its horn.
"A dollar twenty-five, or I call Mr. Chisholm."
Terry fished the money out of his pocket. "You used to be cool, man." That was a lie. I was never cool.
A few minutes later another nervous customer pulled up, but this was no high school kid. It was Mr. Cartwright from the bank. Mrs. Cartwright wasn't with him; Mrs. Eustace was. She had her hat pulled down low over her face but I recognized her pink dress with the white gardenias printed on it. Mr. Cartwright said, "Where's Turkeyneck?"
I thought it wouldn't hurt any to let them know I knew who they were. "Howdy Mr. Cartwright, Miz, Eustace. Turkeyneck is out for a week, recovering from gallstone surgery. I'm here tonight, but for the next week someone else will be selling tickets. I don't know who. Might be the preacher's wife for all I know."
"Is that so?"
"That's what I hear. But sometimes I don't remember so good. Other times I remember just fine. I guess it all depends."
"I see," Mr. Cartwright said. He passed over three dollars. "A bad memory can sometimes be a good thing. If you forgot what a customer paid you, for instance, you wouldn't know you owed him any change."
I felt a little bad, but I never threatened him or asked him for money. Turkeyneck was right. The cheaters pay for the privilege of cheating in peace. I gave Mr. Cartwright a quarter back and told him to enjoy the movie. He winked at me and rubbed his crotch and said he certainly would. Mrs. Eustace never said a word and never raised her eyes from the floorboard. I didn't have to look to know where they parked.
Six cars later I was asked again, "Where's Turkeyneck?" This time there were two guys in the car. I didn't recognize the driver. He was older than me, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Frank Edey was next to him. Frank was fifteen. For the last three years we'd been two of the three wise men in the First Methodist Church Nativity Pageant. When he saw me, he looked like he was going to throw up. I told the stranger the same thing I told Mr. Cartwright, but I left out the part about who might be filling in starting tomorrow. Even though I was answering the stranger, I kept looking at Frank.
"I've seen you here before, haven't I?" the stranger asked. "You sell hot dogs and shit, don't you?"
"Yeah."
"Turkeyneck ever say anything about who buys tickets to the movies?"
Frank finally met my eyes. He looked scared to death. I said, "the only thing he said was that what he sees when he sells tickets is nobody's business but his."
"Is that how you feel?"
The stranger didn't look like anyone I had ever seen. His hair wasn't slicked down with Vitalis or pomade. If you ran your fingers through his hair, they wouldn't be greasy or wet. His hair was jet black but his eyes were blue. I thought black hair meant brown eyes and blue eyes meant blond hair. He wore a white t-shirt. And dungarees. He wasn't super muscular. He didn't live on a farm or if he did, he didn't work it. But he spent time outdoors. He had a nice tan.
I'd been staring at him. He asked me again, "What about you, hot dog boy? Do you feel the same way?"
I glanced at Frank, then back at the stranger. "Not exactly. Turkeyneck takes money to mind his business. I mind my mine for free." Now I looked nervous, or at least felt that way. I wiped sweat from my brow.
"Izzat so?"
I nodded, glancing at Frank again.
I think the stranger could see how nervous I was. He smiled. "My name's George." He leaned toward me to read my name tag. "You like music Bob?"
I nodded again. "You know Frank, right?"
Frank said, "We go to the same school and church."
George laughed and said, "Church. Nice. I work at the record store in Hazelton. Get Frank to bring you over some day. I'll give you the employee discount." He gave me a dollar and told me to keep the change. Holy cripes was Turkeyneck right? Were there queers in Hawthorn? Was George one? Was Frank?! I grew up with him! I watched Georg drive over in the direction of Condom Alley.
"Where's Turkeyneck?" I jerked my attention back to the next car in line. It was some guy in his thirties and a woman who wouldn't look at me.
"Just give me three dollars," I said.
Jeff
Bob had that faraway look on his face more and more, ever since he filled in for Turkeyneck. He only took over one night. After that, Mr. Chisholm got his cousin Maylene to fill in until Turkeyneck was ready to come back to work. I don't know if it was the future tugging at him but something sure was and I wished it would stop.
Me and Bob were picking up the trash at Candyland. Mr. Chisholm came over in his golfcart to tell us it was time to cut the grass. That job sucked. The grass only grew in little strips where the speaker poles were. I couldn't see what the harm was in letting the grass grow as long as it wanted to, but Mr. Chisholm wanted it kept neat. It's a pain in the ass to run the mower around those poles.
Mr. Chisholm looked around at the trash on the ground and at our bag, already half full. "I don't get it, boys. It looks like there's as much candy wrappers as there always was. The take at the concession stand hasn't gone done that much. But we ain't sold as many tickets this week. All I can figure is Maylene is either pocketing money, which is impossible, or she don't know how to make change which ain't impossible at all. I'll be glad when Turkeyneck get back and I stop losing money."
He had it right the first time. He wasn't selling as many tickets. All he had to do was look over at Condom Alley each night. The last time I looked at it through the Tasco it was damn near deserted. The cheaters and the horny high schoolers were too nervous to buy tickets from Maylene. Since the people that parked at Condom Alley never bought popcorn, wieners or pop. There wasn't no difference in the take at the concession stand, only the ticket booth.
Bob said, "when does Turkeyneck come back?"
"Day after tomorrow. Which isn't soon enough." He unlocked the padlock on the storage shed where the mowers were and said he'd see us tomorrow. After he went home me and Bob finished picking up the candy wrappers and cigarette butts. There weren't no rubbers to throw away. It was nearly noon by the time we started cutting the grass. Nothing is hotter than a Georgia summer and we'd already worked up a sweat picking up all the garbage. We took off our shirts and draped them on one of the speaker poles.
You know that feeling you get when someone is staring at you? You don't see them looking but you feel it? I got that feeling ten minutes into cutting the grass. I looked over at Bob and he was looking at me but not looking at me. I mean he was staring right at me, but it's also like I wasn't there cuz he had that faraway look in his eyes. I couldn't make out the expression on his face. I remembered the time Mom caught me listening to the colored radio station and a Ray Charles record was playing. She made me change the station and told me that Ray Charles and his band smoked reefer and did heroin. I never seen anyone who smoked reefer or did heroin but I always imagined they looked just like Bob did right now, with that glazed look.
It was spooking me. I felt like I was a two headed calf at the fair the way he kept staring at me. No, that's not right. I felt like I was a new Schwinn in the Sears Roebuck catalog that he really wanted but couldn't afford so he knew he could never have it, which didn't make no sense cuz he's already got me. "Hey!" I shouted at him. "Where you at? The future tugging at you again? Come back!"
He blinked a couple times and smiled the saddest smile I ever saw. "Sorry," he said. He started his mower and started cutting the grass in Tobacco Road. I hated seeing him this way. Something was eating him and it wasn't the future or the doldrums or some stupid mumbo jumbo like that. I thought back to the other day on Mermaid's Rock when we laughed and said we couldn't share something like that with no one else. Well goddam it, if we could share something as private and special as busting a nut together he was gonna share what it was that was troubling him so.
Bob
I got to get hold of myself or I'm gonna fuck up the best friendship I ever had. I used to be able to control myself and now look at me. I can't stop staring at him just cuz he takes off his shirt. Fuck. Part of it is what we did that day at Walnut Creek. Part of it is knowing that there truly are guys in some of the cars at Condom Alley. Fifty feet from the concession stand. One of them sits three pews behind me and Mama and Daddy every Sunday.
And now that's all I can think of every waking minute. I got to get hold of myself.
I look over at Jeff again and the truth is I don't want to get hold of myself. I want to get hold of his self. That's not gonna happen so I need to do something else afore I ruin shit forever between us. I cut off the mower. "Hey Jeff!" I shout over to him. He doesn't hear me over his mower so I shout again, louder. He cuts off his machine and looks over at me. Goddam, the way the sweat shines on his chest is making me pop wood. I turn around and move my mower that don't need moving but it gives me an excuse to adjust my boner. I move it so it's pointing up and is less noticeable. When I turn around again Jeff is trotting over to me.
"What's up?"
I force a laugh. "You didn't have to come over. I was just wondering if you know where the record store is in Hazelton."
He looks at me funny. "I think it's by the Lumberjack Restaurant. Why? They got something there that you can't get at Herb's Music Emporium?"
"All Herb has is Frank Sinatra and the Everly Brothers. I want to get some Chuck Berry and Little Richard."
"Are you crazy? Your mom will kill you if you get that stuff. But if you do, can I listen to it?"
"Sure. We can get corrupted together."
I'd never driven as far as Hazelton before. That meant going on the highway. I'd been there with my family. We'd even been to the Lumberjack. I was pretty sure I could find the record store. There was no way I was going to ask Frank Edey to take me. Like Turkeyneck says, my business is my business and my business it shall stay. I don't need Frank Edey knowing I'm queer. At least not yet.
Me and Jeff had to take time out twice to drink from the hose. Mr. Chisholm hadn't unlocked anything but the mower shed. So we couldn't get a pop and when we had to take a piss we couldn't use the bathroom.
Jeff said, "Which speaker do you wanna water?"
"Speaker nothing. I'm tired of those little bastards throwing their candy wrappers on the ground right next to the swings when there's a garbage can right there. Let's give 'em something nice to sit on when they're swinging."
That appealed to Jeff's sense of justice. Even though our piss would dry up long before the little kids would sit in it, we walked over to the playground at Candyland and whipped out our peckers. I stood between two swings and he stood between another two and we let our piss fly, alternating the stream between our two swings. Or course, I spent more time looking at Jeff's dick than I did anything else. It was all I could to not to get hard.
Jeff
Since we had cleanup duty in the morning Patrick and Davey were working that night. Which meant we were finally going to get to cash in on our Free Movie benefit. I thought we'd spend the whole day together but Mom wants to can some peaches when she gets off work and I promised her I'd have the two trees in our yard picked clean before she got home. I was hoping Bob would offer to help but I'm not even sure he heard me when I told him about it. He was gone again, to wherever it is he goes, with that faraway look.
We ain't never kept secrets from each other but he was keeping one from me now. Was his mom or dad sick? Was his family moving? I was going to find out one way or the other. I tried to ask him on the way to his grandpa's cabin last week but he gave me that bullshit answer. In school last year Mrs. Slocomb said, "In vino veritas." She said some dead Latin guy said that a million years ago and it means when you're drunk on wine you tell the truth. Uncle Jerry's "recipe" is a helluva lot stronger than any vino, Mr. Robert Connor. In moonshine veritas.
Bob
Jeff was picking me up at six. His mama's car would be better at the drive-in than the jeep or pickup I'm allowed to drive. I was in the jeep now, on the way to Hazelton. I took a wrong turn at the statue of General Hazel which got me twisted around, but once I figured out my mistake, I was able to find the record store with no problem. Jeff was right. It was across the street from the Lumberjack restaurant. I don't know if George is working today or not. I don't know what I was thinking, coming here. I nearly kept driving past it and came on home.
But only nearly. I'm here now, I may as well go in.
The walls have giant paintings of different record album covers. Except for one wall, which has movie posters on it. That doesn't make sense to me at first but when I walk over to that section, I see the records there are for musicals. Even so, only some of the movie posters are for things like Oklahoma and South Pacific. Most of them are for things like Frankenstein and Dracula and Freaks.
"You like horror movies, Bob?"
People are always sneaking up on me and giving me heart attacks. I turn around and it's George. I never saw eyes that blue on anyone before, not even Paul Newman. I say, "Yeah. I saw the Blob at the Drive-in. And Attack of the Colossal Beasts."
"I was there for The Blob," he said. I noticed he didn't say he saw it, only that he was there for it and my pecker starts swelling. If it gets too big, I'll have to grab a record to put in front of it. He points to the poster for Freaks that shows midgets and a pinhead and other circus sideshow people. "You ever see that one?"
I shake my head.
He says, "There's this famous scene where one of the freaks marries a normal person. And at the wedding dinner the other freaks let her know she's part of them by chanting over and over, 'One of us! One of us!' That scene always freaks people out when they see it. Imagine, a normal person being told she's a freak. She didn't even love the guy she married; she only wanted his money. She was faking." He looks at me with those icy blue eyes like he's telling me something important. "But those freaks in the movie can't fake being normal. Not like some freaks are able to."
Man, I just want to run back to the jeep and drive like hell back to Hawthorne. I know now why his eyes were like that. They can look right inside me.
He isn't like Vincent Price in The Mystic though. He's not trying to hypnotize me. He looks friendly and kind. He lowers his voice and says, "one of us. One of us."
I shake my head. "No, I ain't."
He nods his head. "Okay. My mistake. But I'm sorry to hear it. I was hoping to show you the movie posters in the storeroom in the back." He gives me a final smile and goes to a couple of girls looking over the New Releases rack. Halfway there he stops and turns to me. "If you need anything, MaryAnn can help you."
Mary Ann, whoever she is, is the last person who can help me.
Jeff
Mrs. Connor said, "Thank you, Jeff!" She took the two jars of canned peaches from me. "I don't know what your mama does that I don't do, but she makes the best peach preserves in Hawthorne. You be sure to thank her for me, now."
"Yes ma'am."
"You ready?" Bob took the jars from his mom and put them in their pantry. He kissed her goodbye and she told him not to stay out too late, without saying what constituted 'too late.'
Once we were in the car I said, "I don't dare tell her that Mom's secret ingredient in the peach preserves is a bit of Uncle Jerry's Recipe. Not if I want to wake up alive tomorrow."
"How could you wake up dead?"
"I'll tell you after the first feature," I said. The first movie tonight was I Was A Teenage Zombie. When I said that a cloud passed over Bob's face. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Naw. I'm just not in the mood for horror movies."
"Oh." Twice our plans to see movies had fallen apart. Not that I'd minded watching the goings on at Condom Alley from my roof, no sir. But I'd been looking forward to this and now it looked like he didn't want to go. Was this part of Faraway Bob? "You wanna do something else?"
"Watching a movie with you is precisely what I want to do. It wouldn't matter if it was a movie of all five hours of a Pentecostal tent revival."
We pulled into the line of cars buying tickets. "I hope Cousin Maylene knows not to charge us," I said. But I worried for nothing. When we pulled up to the booth Turkeyneck was back on the job.
"Chisholm called me back early," he said. He peered into the car. "I understand you filled in for me the first night, Bobby. Make any good tips?" he cackled.
Bob said, "The tips I made and the tips I didn't make, are my business, and my business it shall stay."
Turkeyneck cackled again. "That's the spirit, Bobby! Enjoy the movie, boys!"
I drove to a spot by a speaker behind Tobacco Road. "I still can't believe you didn't see who went to Condom Alley."
"Like I told you, I was so busy counting how many people were in the cars, and trying to make change, and keep track of who was hiding in the trunks, I wasn't able to see where the cars went."
"And no one tipped you or looked shifty?"
"Aw, you know Turkeyneck is full of shit. You wanna go get our food, or you want me to?"
"Let's make Patrick or Davey get their exercise. But I ain't tipping them." I turned on the parking lights.
Bob reached over and pushed the lever back in. "I like my popcorn free of loogies. I'll go get it."
"I'll go with you," I said, but he said that he'd be right back. While he was gone, I looked back toward Condom Alley. There were already nine or ten cars back there. I recognized Joe Hogan's Bel Air. LeeAnn was sitting next to him. Other cars by the fence were in the shadows and I couldn't tell who was in them but that didn't keep my dick from getting stiff. I don't mean a half-hard. I knew what Joe and LeeAnn were going to be doing in about ten minutes. I knew he was going to be shoving his fat cock into her cooter and her tits would be bouncing while she rode him. And all those cars in the shadows were full of other chicks who were gonna be fucking guys and maybe sucking them too. My cock was hard as Joe's was gonna be, or maybe already was. No way could Bob miss seeing my boner when he got back with the hotdogs and pop.
I twisted around to check out the concession stand. There was a long line of people. I figured I had four or five minutes before Bob got back. There were cars on either side of me but no one in them was paying any attention to me and they couldn't see my lap anyway. I unzipped my fly and pulled out my cock. All the windows of the car were rolled down so I had to be sure to be quiet.
I gripped my cock and nearly blew the Being Quiet thing right then. I kept picturing all the fucking that would be going on right behind me. I slid my foreskin down past the head of my dick exposing it to the hot night air. Someone walked by me on their way back from the concession stand to their car. If they'd glanced down, I would have been busted. I thought about zipping back up and going to the bathroom to finish but I was too damn horny. I've jacked off on the roof six or seven times by now and people could see me there if they bothered to look up. Is there any difference between that and doing it here where I could get caught if people bothered to look down? Well, yeah, cuz who the hell looks up at someone's roof?
I adjusted the rearview mirror so I could see Joe's car. He and LeeAnn were kissing. I pulled my foreskin back up over the head of my dick and then down again, I didn't have time to go slow and enjoy it. Bob would be back any minute. I wasn't going a mile a minute but I didn't waste any time either. I jacked my cock at a nice steady pace while I watched Joe and LeeAnne sucking face. I wondered what else she sucked. Could she suck his cock? It was so thick. I bet he ain't never had a blowjob. I ain't either, but not cuz no one can't get her mouth around my dick. My thoughts kept going back and forth to LeeAnn sucking Joe Hogan's fat dick to her sucking my not so fat dick and then both our dicks and then I realized that meant his and my dick would be touching each other while she licked and sucked on them and then I was shooting and goddam it was so hard not to make any noise cuz usually I grunt but all I could do was breathe hard and even that was loud. My eyes were shut tight and I could only hope the people in the car next to me weren't looking. It was a family for Christ's sake.
Then I had the problem of what to do with my spooge. I didn't have nothing to wipe it on. Shit. Some of it had landed on my shirt. I could rub it in but how would I explain the wet spots. And the smell? What had I been thinking? I pulled off my shirt and used it to wipe off my hand. Then I took the keys out of the ignition and out of the car and unlocked the trunk. I was putting the shirt in the trunk when Bob came back with the food. He gave me a funny look.
"Some butterfingers spilled his Coke on me when he walked by my open window," I said.
"Good thing it didn't land in your lap. I don't think even Turkeyneck could keep it to himself if you watched the movie nekkid."
I wanted to remind him that Joe and LeeAnn watched the movie naked every night but then again I guess they weren't really watching the movie.
Bob
When I see Frank at church on Sunday, he averts his eyes. If he's trying to act like nothing's up, he's doing a terrible job. Mama finally asks me if me if he owes me money, which makes me laugh. He can't avoid me in Sunday school class unless he ditches and who ditches church after they've already showed up? I grab him before we go into the classroom. "Stop acting so weird. My mama noticed and if she did you know other people are noticing, too. I already told you it's none of my concern who goes to the Drive-in."
He looks around all pop-eyed but there's no one to hear us. "Be quiet! No one knows I was at the Drive-in at all."
"And they ain't gonna know it from me, so stop acting like I got Measles." I wonder if George told him I went to the record store. I never asked him not to tell anyone but I figured he knew I didn't want anyone to know. He didn't seem like a rat. All I can do is hope for the best.
Frank looks uncertain. "How come they ain't gonna know it from you? You didn't take two dollars from George like Turkeyneck does." He looks up and down the hall again. "Are you . . .?"
I'm saved from telling him the same lie I'd told George by Mrs. Evans. "Boys! We're ready to begin! Come inside, please."
Frank was avoiding eye contact, before. Now he won't stop looking at me. I feel like I'm a math problem he's trying to figure out. The problem is, Frank is really good at math.
George
I was putting out the new Ricky Nelson display when Mary Ann came over. "George some kid on the phone says only you can answer his questions about Jerry Lee Lewis. I'm not good enough for him."
I went up to the counter and picked up the phone. "This is George, can I help you?" No one answered. I knew the connection was open. Not only was there no dial tone but I could hear someone breathing. "Hello?" Still nothing. I was about to hang up. "Who is this?" It sounded like someone started to answer but the word was chopped off. "Bob? Is that you? Don't hang up!" The breathing got faster. "Don't hang up," I said again. "I'm sorry if I put you on the spot the other day. There were a lot of people in the store. It maybe wasn't the right place for the kind of conversation I was trying to have with you. Do you want to talk someplace quieter? Without people around? I can meet you in Hawthorne if you want."
He hung up.
Jeff
I'm a bad friend. I told Bob I had the bubble guts and couldn't go to the movies tonight. He didn't tell me he hoped I felt better, or say we'd go tomorrow or anything like that. He just said "Okay, see you later" and that was it. I think he's mad at me. I didn't blame him. This wasn't the first time I bailed on him. I should have just told him the truth and invited him to come up on the roof with me. But I didn't want him to know his best friend was a pervert. What I really should do is stop peeping into the car windows. If I did it from the Drive-in instead of from my roof Sheriff Parker would arrest me on the spot. But I'm addicted. I didn't know what Bob was doing tonight. He didn't tell me and I didn't ask. That day on Mermaid's Rock he said he wanted to fuck LeeAnn Ramey. It would be hot if she and Joe broke up and Bob and her started dating and I got to watch the two of them go at it in Condom Alley.
Damn, I really am a pervert. Hoping to spy on my best buddy fucking his girl. I was already hard thinking about it. Oh well, no sense letting a good boner go to waste. I took the Tasco out of my closet and climbed out of the window and took it up to the roof.
There was no moon tonight. I took out my dick before aiming the telescope at the Drive-in. I homed in on a car I hadn't seen before, either because it was its first time here, or because it had always been up against the fence before with other cars between it and me, blocking my view of it. I thought I recognized the car. I was excited and angry at the same time.
It's one thing for Joe Hogan to be getting laid. He's older than me. But Frank Edey is my age! How is he getting fucked? I moved the Tasco, aiming it at the driver's window. It was Frank alright, but he was alone. He was sitting up straight, staring straight ahead. The window was rolled down. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes which made me think he wasn't alone after all, but even from my angle I couldn't see who was in the car with him.
He put his left arm out of the window and grabbed the roof of the car. His right arm reached down toward his lap but he wasn't jacking off. It looked like he was resting his hand on something.
Or someone.
Someone's head.
Holy fucking Christ, someone is sucking his cock! That lucky fuck, he's getting head! I bet it's Susan Malone! Even Joe Hogan ain't never got his dick sucked by LeeAnn. I reached down for my cock and started slowly stroking it. This was even hotter than watching people fuck. I ain't never seen no one get their dick sucked before. Goddam I wished I could see who the girl was.
I could see his lips moving. He was talking to her. Was he telling her what a good job she was doing, or telling her how to do it better? I'd pay every cent I owned to be him right now. She must be doing a good a job cuz his head is jerking. He's either cumming or getting close. He moves his left arm back inside the car to join his right arm. Both hands are holding his slut's head. He's not leaning his head back anymore; he's looking down at her. His face is all scrunched up. He's still talking to her. Nope. Now he's cumming. I let go of my cock. As bad as I want to, I ain't gonna bust my nut yet. I gotta see who's sucking him first. Is she taking his spooge in her mouth? Goddam, these Drive-in girls are so nasty!
He finally takes a big breath and opens his eyes. He moves his arms to his side. He's smiling and I don't blame him. I'd be smiling too.
And then Bob Connor raises his head from Frank's lap, a bit of spunk still running down the side of his mouth. "The fuck!" I shout and stumble, losing my footing, and fall backwards off the roof.
Chapter three is coming soon. I enjoy getting feedback and answer all emails. Feel free to write me at butters2020@protonmail.com.
If you liked this story, you may like my other stories on Nifty:
Young friends:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/maxs-bucket-list/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-boardwalk/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-three-musketeers/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/puppy-love
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/newsflash
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/being-dirty
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/nu-foo
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-cornfield/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/vitamin-j
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/making-white
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/tutoring-master-bates
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-elevator-feeling
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/middle-school-towel-boy
Adult Youth
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/college-credit
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/fairy-moans
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High School
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/the-food-court
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/marty-gets-drunk
Incest
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/my-brother-is-queer
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/alexs-third-eye
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/connor-and-ethan/
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Camping
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/puppy-love
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/fairy-moans