Free Eight Nights by Keira Andrews Page A

resolution to have the balls to join the club and at least meet some other gay people. That would make it official -- still a bit of a scary prospect.
    Frigid night air greeted him as he pushed the door open. A group of five or six people huddled together nearby, puffing away on cigarettes. Lucas nodded to them and walked to the other side of the roof, which was usually deserted. Leaning against the waist-high brick wall, Lucas peered out, his breath clouding in front of his face. He was being antisocial, which wouldn’t help him fit in at Brookfield.
    Thanks to his father’s job in sales for Ford, they’d moved around a lot over the years, and Lucas had never made lasting friends. He hoped college would change that, but he felt utterly disconnected from his peers.

    4 Keira Andrews
    He could still feel the bass from downstairs through the soles of his sneakers, the faint thudding more bearable at least. The campus spread out before him, lights twinkling merrily on the trees that lined the drives, winding their way around the stately old buildings.
    It was Friday, December 21, the last day of the fall semester. Lucas was fairly confident he’d done well on his last exam -- organic chemistry, ugh -- a couple of hours before, and he had hoped Sam’s parents had already picked him up to take him home. Sam lived in New York City, a few hours away from the tiny town in upstate New York that was home to Brookfield. Lucas wanted nothing more than to relax in his room and have an early night after being up late studying for the last two weeks.
    Clearly he’d have to wait until tomorrow, when the campus emptied, to get some peace and quiet. Yet as much as he wanted some time to himself, Lucas knew that the next two weeks would be a little too quiet.
    Tomorrow all the students who hadn’t already left for home would be taking off, leaving the campus a ghost town. He was the only one on his floor not going home for the holidays, and although he would be glad for the respite from the constant partying, it would soon give way to loneliness.
    He thought of his father, and quickly took a gulp of beer to ward off the tightness in his throat. Some more smokers arrived, laughing gaily as they piled out onto the roof. Taking another swig of beer, Lucas joined the party.

    * * * * *
“Uhhh.”
    Another sharp rap on the door echoed through the room, and Lucas forced himself to open his eyes, since it sounded like Sam wasn’t yet able to form words. It felt like he’d only been sleeping for an hour, but the light streaming through the window told a different story.
    “Samuel, it’s your mother.” Her voice was soft yet firm on the other side of the door.

    Eight Nights

    5
    “Uhhh,” Sam repeated, his head still buried under his duvet.
    Lucas made his way to the door, kicking empty beer cans under the bed and trying to cover up the evidence of the previous night’s activities. When he opened the door, he smiled brightly, not without some effort. “Mrs. Kramer? I’m Lucas.”
    “How nice to finally meet you.” She extended her hand and shook his firmly, the tasteful jewels on her rings sparkling.
    He stood aside as she swept into the room, surveying the piles of Sam’s dirty clothes, books, and discarded pizza boxes. Mrs. Kramer looked in her early fifties, although Lucas couldn’t be sure. Sam rarely mentioned his family; most of his conversations revolved around basketball, partying, and girls. Many, many girls.
    Sam’s mother was an average height, with dark brown, bobbed hair betraying no hint of gray. Her black skirt and camel-colored coat were crisply pressed.
    “Samuel.”
    Sam groaned again unintelligibly.
    Lucas smiled at Mrs. Kramer. “He’s not really a morning person, but I guess you know that.”
    “Indeed I do.” She marched the few steps over to Sam’s bed, heels clicking on the tile floor. With a brisk motion, she yanked the duvet off. “Time to get up, young man.”
    Sam, clad only in his briefs,