Lights Out by Jason Starr Read Free Book Online Page A

He thought it might have to do with her incredible beauty - maybe he was
too
attracted to her - but even thinking about disgusting things - a pile of shit in a toilet bowl, the gray hair that grew out of his father’s ears, or his ninth-grade algebra teacher, Mr Finklestein - didn’t help. He thought doing it outside might relax him, so he took her to Manhattan Beach one night. It was romantic under the stars, with the waves crashing, but he came all over the sand.
    Ryan decided that Christina and Jake’s engagement was stressing him out, affecting his ability to relax and be himself in bed. But after tonight that would all be history. Jake would be officially out of the picture, and Ryan would be able to make love to Christina the way he knew he could.
    The drivers behind Ryan were honking their horns and yelling out their windows, and Ryan realized he had caused a traffic jam. He stepped on the gas a little too hard, and the car sped forward. Then, as the light turned red at the next corner, he had to hit the brake and the car jerked to a stop.
    A white minivan pulled up alongside Ryan’s car. The driver-side window opened and the driver, a fat guy in a suit, screamed, ‘The fuck’s your problem, shithead?’
    Ryan, staring straight ahead, lost in thought again, didn’t bother answering. Then the light turned green and he drove on.

Four
    After Jake got out of the Town Car, he grabbed the pen and baseball that one of the fans was thrusting in his face, and signed the ball, continuing to smile widely with his thirty-five-thousand-dollar choppers. As he made his way slowly toward the stoop leading to his parents’ house, the crowd kept cheering and chanting his name, and he tried to keep up the charm, saying ‘Hey,’ ‘Yo,’ and ‘How’s it goin’?’ and promising that everyone would get an autograph. It was hard to see far ahead with all the flashes, but he made out his mother’s proud, smiling face off to the side. As usual when he hadn’t seen her in a while, he was surprised at how old she looked. There was gray in her hair, and her face looked thinner and more wrinkled than he remembered. He was still pissed off as hell at her for planning this stupid block party, but he didn’t want to blow the great photo op. This shit always looked great in newspapers - the superstar baseball player who loved his mother. It would really kick up his heart-of-gold image.
    He kissed his mother on both cheeks, then hugged her tightly and whispered into her ear, ‘What the hell is this bullshit?’
    ‘What’s wrong?’ Donna Thomas whispered back, concerned.
    ‘I told you I wanted this weekend to be low-key,’ Jake said.
    ‘Oh, don’t be a party pooper,’ Donna said.
    Smiling, with his arm around her waist, Jake said to the crowd, ‘I’ll be back in a few,’ and the crowd chanted, ‘Jake, Jake, Jake’ as if he were Rudy, that midget football player from Notre Dame.
    Jake and his mother reached the stoop where his father was waiting.
    Antowain Thomas was six-four, two-eighty, but he had more fat than muscle these days and receding, close-cropped, salt-and-pepper hair. He gave Jake a once-over, looking him up and down, and Jake knew the old man was thinking,
Why you dressin’ like that? Just ‘cause you got it going on don’t mean you gotta show it off.
Meanwhile, Antowain was wearing old brown corduroys and a yellow-and-red wool sweater he must’ve had for twenty years. He always wore mismatched outfits and kept his clothes until they ripped or moths ate holes into them.
    Jake shook his father’s hand, and then smiled and gave him an extra-warm hug because the flashes were still going off and he knew it was another prime photo op.
    Walking between his parents, with his arms around their waists, Jake headed up the stoop toward the front door.
    When they entered the house, Jake was ready to chew out his parents for planning this party behind his back, but the lights went on and people shouted,