Title: On a Summer Night
Author: Gabriel D. Vidrine
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: April 2, 2018
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 56200
Genre: Contemporary, LGBT, contemporary, YA, trans, bisexual, asexual, coming-of-age, coming out, family drama, HFN, #ownvoices
Add to Goodreads
Synopsis
Fourteen-year-old Casey is determined to
have fun this summer going to camp with his best friend, Ella. His
overprotective mother frets that attending this one instead of trans camp like
he’s always done will cause problems, but Casey has his heart set on going
stealth anyway.
His mom just might be right.
All Ella wants is love for her best
friend, and she’s determined to set him up with someone, despite Casey’s
protests that he just wants to have fun, not get involved in a summer romance.
But things get complicated when camp bully Ryan focuses his energies on the two
friends. At least Casey’s cute bunkmate, Gavin, appears interested in getting
to know him better, making Casey rethink the whole romance thing.
Until he finds out Gavin and Ryan are
good friends.
Summer camp turns into so much more when
Casey has to decide if Gavin is worth pursuing, friend of a bully or not.
Excerpt
On a Summer Night
Gabriel D. Vidrine © 2018
All Rights Reserved
“Do you have your socks?” my mother
called up the stairs.
“Yes, mother!” I shouted back down at
her. Of course I had socks. But I double-checked the large footlocker anyway,
scrabbling through it until I found them. They were buried under my binders,
but there they were.
“Don’t forget towels!” came another
shout up the stairs.
She knew me well. I always forgot
something. I went back to my bathroom and rummaged around in the linen closet
until I found enough towels for the trip.
When I got back to my room, Mom was
staring down into my trunk, her hands on her hips. “Anything else?” she asked,
eyeing how much was in it.
“I hope not.”
I tossed the towels in the trunk, only
to be crushed into a hug from her. “I’m going to miss you Casey,” she said into
my hair.
I patted her awkwardly. She meant well,
but ever since I announced my desire to transition two years ago when I turned
twelve, she’d gotten super overprotective and clingy. “I’ll miss you too, Mom.”
I did mean it, but it was going to be a relief to be away from her for almost
two weeks. Even though I’d never been away from my parents that long before,
not even at trans camp.
She squeezed me harder until I gasped
and then let me go. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“For the millionth time, yes,” I said,
rolling my eyes.
“Okay. I’ll get your dad to get this
down the stairs,” she said, and then she was gone in a whirl of brown hair and
scarves.
I shook my head at her back and pulled
out my phone to text my best friend, Ella.
Me: Almost ready. U?
I knew she wouldn’t answer right away
(she actually hated her phone, the weirdo), so I nervously went through my list
again to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. I needed a distraction.
While I was rummaging, my dad, a big guy
who had prematurely gone bald so he always wore an ugly hat, had lumbered up
the stairs and was frowning down at my trunk. “Are you sure you need all that?”
His voice was very deep.
“Yeah, Dad.” My phone buzzed in my
pocket, but I ignored it. “It’s almost two weeks.”
“Twelve days,” he said.
“Yeah, I know.” I scratched at my head,
slightly embarrassed to talk about my transition stuff with my dad. “I, you
know, need some extra stuff.” I thought of the binders lying next to my socks.
He glanced at me and nodded, and then
looked quickly away. He hadn’t been as supportive of my transition as my mom.
When I first told him, he blurted, “But you’re a girl.”
We stood there in awkward silence for a
moment as I wondered what I should say to him, father to son. But he hadn’t yet
called me his son.
He cleared his throat, still not looking
at me, and then crouched and heaved up the trunk onto a roller cart he’d
carried up the stairs. It was going to be a pain getting it down on the cart,
but at least he wouldn’t kill his back picking it up this way.
I helped him maneuver it down the
stairs, wishing not for the first time I could start hormones. I wanted to be
as strong as my dad, but I wasn’t old enough yet. Well, I was, but my parents
wouldn’t approve it until I was sixteen. I figured Dad was the one holding out,
because Mom would give me whatever I wanted.
Two more years.
When we finally got the trunk down the
stairs, I pulled my phone out. Ella had texted back.
Ella: Yeah, loading the car. Are you
ready?
Me: Yes! Just gotta say bye.
Ella: We’ll be there soon.
“Ella and her parents are going to be
here soon,” I told my parents.
Mom had argued long and hard about how I
was getting to camp. She wanted to take me, but I wanted to go with Ella and
her parents. My friend and her brother had been going to this camp for years,
and her parents knew exactly how to get there. Mom pursed her lips and crossed
her arms over her chest. “Okay. Are you sure you have it all?”
Annoyance flared up. “Yes!” I said.
“Don’t take that tone with your mother,”
Dad warned.
I closed my mouth and let the anger
subside. It wouldn’t do to get into an argument with them now. They’d probably
not let me go, whether or not they had already paid for my spot. And summer
camp wasn’t cheap; I’d seen prices on the website.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, and Mom pulled me
into another hug.
“Be safe, okay?” she said. “I wish you
wanted to go to the trans camp instead.”
“Mom, please!”
“Okay, okay, I know. You want to go to
regular camp like any regular boy.”
“I went to trans camp last year,” I
said.
“I know, and you loved it. That’s why I
wish you’d go again.”
“Stop worrying so much, Mom,” I told
her. “The kids won’t hurt me.”
She didn’t look convinced when she
finally let me go. It was true; trans camp had been fantastic. But everyone
there knew I was trans. I wanted to go someplace where I didn’t always feel
trans. I knew it was impossible, but I wanted a shot at it. All the other kids
at trans camp had loved it, because they’d said they could shed their trans
identity there. Since everyone was trans, we got to talk about other things. It
made it less special, which was, in reality, a relief.
And that was the problem for me. I just
wanted to be like any other boy. And all the other boys went to summer camp
like the one I was going to, not to trans camp. I wanted to be a boy with the
other boys.
No comments:
Post a Comment