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how my last blowjob almost made me queasy. He said him too. Maybe we should try with boys. So we did.”
    Joe almost laughed. God. Fifteen. It could be a fun age when that shit started happening. He’d always wondered what happened to Tim. But Joe and Tim’s story had been over when the summer was over. Casey’s story had just started.
    “An-nd?” There was a tear on the underside of his arm, where shit got really sensitive, and that needed a lot of attention.
    “And my folks caught us. And started screaming. And my dad said I wasn’t his son. He rushed Dillon, and both of us ran out of there. Dillon went home and….” He swallowed.
    “And you didn’t.”
    “No.”
    “You talked to them since?”
    Casey shook his head. “No.”
    Joe breathed out. “Kid, I’m going to have to call social services, you know that, right?”
    Casey looked at him, just looked at him, those naturally guarded eyes open and limpid. “Please,” he whispered. “It took me two months to get someplace I don’t hate.”
    Joe was going to tell him no—or at least he was going to try to tell him no—but then his arm slipped off the sink and his vision got a little gray. Not gray enough to miss the total expression of triumph in Casey’s eyes, though.
    “You can’t let me go!” he said excitedly, taking two steps into the bathroom and taking the gauze. “You can’t . You need me!”
    “Wash your hands,” Joe said sharply, and Casey nodded like he should have known. Still, his hands were steady as he wrapped the gauze around Joe’s arm again and again, until the roll was gone and there was nothing to do but tape the ends and then tape them to Joe’s arm.
    He did—in fact, he was good at it. For some reason, the pressure of the bandage and the lack of exposure to the air helped, and Joe nodded.
    “Good. Thanks, kid. Let me get some Tylenol, ’kay? Then I’ve got to take the damned dog to the vet’s.”
    “The dog that bit you?” Casey stepped back and looked at him like he was insane.
    Joe sighed. Well, yeah. Maybe. “He was scared and hurt. Broke his leg in the fence because I was a dumbass and overslept. Now we got to get him fixed, or Mr. Kenby’s going to come over here and fuckin’ shoot me for hurting his dog. You good to stay here alone, kid? There’s food, your clothes are in the dryer—”
    “I was sort of hoping you burned them.”
    “Well, I don’t know if any of them are left after three cycles in hot—that may still be an option. I can get you something after I take Rufus to the vet in town, but I gotta get a move on.”
    Casey looked down at his scrubs and then back at Joe. “Uhm, can I come with you? You’re not looking too good.”
    Joe scowled. “You wouldn’t look that great either, kid.” He didn’t want to see, but he risked a look in the mirror. He was pale and sweating and his hair was all over the place, and he swore. “All right. Tell you what. You come with me to keep me from driving off the road, and we can stop in town and get you some clothes.”
    Casey looked down, unaccountably shy. “I can’t pay you,” he said, his voice muffled. “Are you sure you don’t want—”
    “Oh Jesus, kid, give it a rest. You’re fifteen—”
    “Sixteen.”
    “Nah. You get a pass. No sixteenth birthday party, no sixteen. You’re fifteen. If I caught anyone my age sniffing around you, I’d run ’em off with a shotgun. Now forget about sex for a minute and go into my room. There’s another pair of moccasins in there that should fit—grab those and a couple of sweatshirts from the drawer. I’m gonna need help getting in mine, so make it big and loose, okay?”
    Casey was already through the other door, and Joe was there in his plain little bathroom. He’d picked out dark-blue tile for it, because he liked it, and the towels were dark blue and dark yellow, but other than that, the walls were white, and so was the shower curtain. Well, one thing at a time. His big project had been