The Starving Years Read Online Free PDF Page B

sometimes, shapes that you might give names to, in the way some people lie on their backs, stare up at the summer sky, and find animals and faces in the clouds.
    Nelson’s pins and needles were far less benign than cloud shapes; they were the aura that heralded his worst migraines.
    He turned away from the window and knuckled his eyes, even though he knew the visual disturbance had zero to do with his eyes and everything to do with his brain. He groped in his pockets to see if his magical dose of Peritriptan was still there. It was. While he hadn’t exactly been expecting a migraine, he’d been worried today might be the day the next big attack reared its ugly head. He’d been sleeping badly, and eating badly, and worrying about defaulting on his student loans. Add to that the stress of the Canaan Products seminar and the ridiculous office drone costume he was wearing….
    “Hey.” He touched Javier on the shoulder. Javier was crouched beside Marianne’s hidey-hole, speaking to her in low, soothing tones. He turned to look up at Nelson. Such pretty cheekbones. Exquisite, even. Nelson didn’t suppose he usually thought of a man’s facial features as exquisite. It must have been the eye patch, or the scars it was hiding, that sent Nelson’s mind into a flurry of compare-and-contrast that made the beautifully-formed features that were still intact even more appealing by comparison.
    “Well? What is it?”
    Staring. Right. “Timing sucks, but I gotta take a pill.”
    “Okay.” Javier said it cautiously, with undertones of and why are you telling me? shot through it.
    “A migraine’s coming. A bad one. I’ll be totally useless, either with the pill or without it. Stupid thing costs about a month’s salary.” His current salary, anyway, as a movie rental clerk. “If I take it, I’ll be high as a kite for a couple of hours. If I don’t take it, I’ll be a basket case for a few days.”
    “Then take it!”
    Nelson pulled the precious, single pill from its wrapper and dry-swallowed it. “I might say things.”
    “Okay.”
    “It’s just the serotonin flooding my brain. It gets pretty trippy.”
    “I understand.”
    “I’ll probably mention that I think you’re totally hot and I’m dying to sleep with you.”
    “Oh.” Javier almost smiled. “I hadn’t noticed.”
    The truck braked again, suddenly, and they all lurched sideways. Marianne and Javier fell into boxes, but Nelson would have gone sprawling into the spaces between, if Javier hadn’t reached out and grabbed him. Gears shifted. Now the truck sprang forward, turning sharply, and Javier fell back into Marianne, Nelson forward onto Javier.
    Way to jumpstart the serotonin-rush. Nelson’s chest was pressed into Javier’s, and all of them were frozen in place, bracing themselves on anything their hands and feet could shove against. “Do me a favor,” Nelson said over the ominous rattles, screeches, screams and thumps.
    “What?”
    “Just in case the worst-case-scenario happens while I’m out,” and he could think of at least fifty ways they’d all die before the Peritriptan wore off, “let me take one good memory with me.”
    Javier hesitated. Nelson dreaded the refusal for just a moment before he resigned himself to it, and began to pull back. Javier was still holding onto him, though. Instead of letting him pull away, Javier dragged him forward and covered his mouth in a kiss.
    A real kiss, hard and wet. Nelson felt his lips part in surprise, and Javier’s tongue slid into his mouth. The truck jostled, and their teeth clacked together. Their mingled saliva was metallic with adrenaline. Nelson clutched something—he couldn’t even tell what. Javier’s hip? His thigh? A wad of his sportcoat? It didn’t matter, nothing mattered but the kiss.
    When it seemed to Nelson that he might be pressing his luck, that he should probably disengage even though it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do, Javier slid a hand around the back