“Is that a cave?” Ricky asked.
“Yeah,” Diego said. “Wait here.”
“What!?”
Diego glanced around. “You said you’re okay here.”
“Yeah, but now I’m worried about you! Does Kansas have bears? Or wolves?”
Diego shrugged. “I’ll be right back.”
And with that, he disappeared into the darkness. Ricky stared after him until certain that his eyes wouldn’t adjust. Then he slowly turned and hugged himself for the comfort while wishing he was still safe in Diego’s arms. The shadows seemed to lengthen and stretch toward him. He noticed something flapping around and rustling in a distant tree and hoped it was only trash that had gotten caught in the branches. Although it could just as easily be leathery wings.
“What about bats?” Ricky called over his shoulder. “Kansas must have those!”
No answer.
A breeze blew through the clearing. He heard skittering. Was it leaves? Or some sort of creature rushing toward him? He thought of The Wizard of Oz, when the trees came to life and harassed Dorothy and the Scarecrow.
“This has been really fun,” Ricky said, beginning to back away. “But I think I’m ready to go home now.”
He bumped into something and shrieked, but it was only the rocky wall. He began laughing at himself before a voice made him yelp.
“You all right?” Diego asked.
Ricky pressed a hand against his thudding chest and nodded. “Is this where you stash your weed or something?” he asked.
“Nah. Come see.”
Ricky turned toward the cave incredulously and was surprised that a warm orange glow came from inside. Which was such a welcome sight compared to the chilly darkness surrounding them that he eagerly moved toward the flickering light. A narrow passage cut a diagonal line through the stone before opening into a small chamber the size of his bedroom, although the glistening ceiling was lower. A fire had been built in the center. Placed around the perimeter of the chamber on rocky shelves and the cave floor were candles, each with a dancing flame. The moisture on the walls caught the light and reflected it back, the heat from the fire already chasing away the clammy cold. Ricky’s heart started pounding for another reason as he spun around and saw Diego looking uncertain.
“It’s beautiful,” Ricky told him. “I love it!”
A smile tugged at Diego’s cheek, even though it failed to manifest. “All the comforts of home,” he said, kneeling next to the pack. He had already unrolled the sleeping bag near the fire. Now he pulled out a battery-powered radio, a Tupperware container, a six-pack of beer, a two-liter bottle of cola, and filled plastic bags from a grocery store. Ricky moved to help him. “Are we having a picnic?” he asked when sorting through everything. “In a cave?”
“Isn’t that what people do on Valentine’s Day?” Diego asked with a smirk.
“No, but they should,” Ricky said with a wild grin. “This is going to be amazing!”
“Yeah?” Diego studied him before looking satisfied. “Cool.” He tore open one of the plastic bags. “We’ve got potato salad, buns, some hotdogs to roast over the fire, stuff to put on them…”
“Are we going to do s’mores too?” he asked.
“Nope. I uh… I actually made something for dessert.” Diego nudged the Tupperware container toward him with a guarded expression.
Ricky opened it, expecting to see more pot brownies, like he’d gotten for Christmas. Instead the most wonderful scent reached his nose. “Peanut butter cookies!” he cried happily. “I love these!”
“I know,” Diego said with a casual shrug.
“You really made them?” Ricky didn’t wait for an answer. He shoved an entire cookie in his mouth and began chewing while moaning in pleasure. “Wow!” he said after swallowing. “These are almost as good as my mom’s!” There was a funny aftertaste that he couldn’t place, but it wasn’t bad exactly.
“Yeah?” Diego asked.
“Yeah!” To prove it, he shoved another cookie in his mouth.
Diego looked concerned. “You might want to slow down there.”
“Don’t worry,” Ricky managed to say before he resumed chewing. Then he swallowed. “I’ll still have room for dinner. When my mom makes these, I usually sneak a few before meals. I prefer starting with dessert.”
“I don’t mean your appetite,” Diego said, taking the Tupperware container from him. “It’s your tolerance I’m worried about.”
“Tolerance?” Ricky repeated.
“Yeah. They’ve got weed in them.”
His eyes went wide in disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”
Diego snorted. “Of course not. I wouldn’t give you a lame present. They’ll get you high.”
“I thought that was only possible with brownies!”
“Nope. The weed goes into the butter, and the butter can go into anything. You’ll be all right though. How many brownies did it take for you to get high?”
“I don’t remember,” Ricky lied, because he hadn’t really eaten any of them. He’d nibbled the corner of one, offered some to Diego whenever he came over, and threw the rest away when they got stale.
“Just don’t eat more for a couple hours.” Diego popped one in his mouth before returning the lid to the container.
“How did you find this place?” Ricky asked while glancing around. He did his best to ignore the handful of small tunnels just big enough for animals to scurry into. “Have you been here before?”
“Yeah,” Diego said with a grin. “I used it to hide from the cops once.”
Ricky stared. “Really?”
“Yup. Nobody ever comes out here. I saw a guy fishing the creek once. That’s it.”
“Why were you on the run from the cops?” Ricky asked.
“I was speeding and wanted to see if I could get away.”
“Diego!” Ricky chastised. “That’s dangerous!”
His boyfriend merely shrugged, like it didn’t matter.
“And they never caught you?”
“Nope. Good thing they didn’t run my plates before they started flashing their lights.”
Ricky shook his head in disapproval. Then he remembered the time Diego had shown up in class with a bruise on his cheek and burn marks around his wrist. At the time, he had admitted the marks were from police handcuffs but refused to say more. Of course, that was before they were dating.
“Have you ever gotten arrested before?” Ricky asked.
Diego averted his eyes before answering. “Yeah.”
“For what?”
“I don’t want you to freak out. Or worry all the time.”
Ricky already felt himself growing concerned. “About what?”
“I got busted selling weed.”
Ricky worked his jaw before he could get any words to come out. “But you only sell to your dad’s old friends. You said it was safe!”
“It is!” Diego glared before he seemed to reconsider. “Normally. It didn’t happen here in Pride. I was halfway to Texas. There were these guys at a gas station in Oklahoma. One of them smelled weed on me and offered to pay for a tank of gas if I hooked him up. So I did. It would have been fine if an off-duty police officer hadn’t noticed and called his buddies. They pulled me over and got me into cuffs before I decided to get the hell out of there.”