Dragging Mason County by Curtis Campbell EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Curtis Campbell
- Language: English
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult Fiction about Friendship
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
MIDDLE-AGED MAN-BABY
This was a terrible idea,” I inform Alan. “You know how I feel about
mixing with the locals.”
The parking lot of the Dairy Freeze is radiating heat, and we’re caged in
on either side by souped-up pickup trucks. Alan Goode and I don’t fit the
quaint small-town life profile on a good day, but in his short-shorts and
coiffed hair, Alan sticks out like a gay thumb. It’s drawing the attention of
the girl sitting in the truck bed of her lofty war machine of a vehicle. The
scrutinizing glare of Chrissy McPhee, wealthiest member of Mason Central
Secondary’s ruling class, is as familiar as it is unwanted. I’m sure that
plenty of guys in Mason County would love to be ogled by a girl with the
keys to her own all-terrain vehicle, but I just want to bat her attention away
with my notably limp wrists.
“Look, I’ve always been very fashion forward, Peter,” Alan replies. “And
if people can’t handle it, then that’s between them and their god.”
“Fashion requires wearing clothing,” I say, wiping sweat from my eyes.
“Your short-shorts barely count as fabric.”
I try not to look at Chrissy, knowing that she’s got more than a few
opinions on the way that Alan’s nipples are nearly busting out of the T-shirt
he recently whittled into a stringy tank top. Chrissy is tiny, even from the
top of her mecha-truck, but she has the legs of a volleyball player, so it
always feels like she’s about to kick a hole through your chest. Her blonde
hair is chemically rigid, and her pinched face always seems to be scanning
you for structural weaknesses. Which is exactly what I can feel it doing
right now.
From the corner of my eye I catch a second head bobbing out from
behind Chrissy. The line moves forward a touch and I pray that Brison
Dallas, gay best friend to Chrissy McPhee, remains silent on the topic of
our physical appearances for once in his life. Alan and I look like gay kids
in a gritty indie movie about plucky rural queers winning a poetry
competition. Brison Dallas, on the other hand, looks like a model kickstarting his acting career in a movie about a teen werewolf hunter.
Alan’s skin may be clear and porcelain, given his meticulous nighttime
skincare routine, but mine is an oozing mess. My face is a perpetual before
picture in those late-night skin-treatment commercials. Alan, on the other
hand, is fat. He says this proudly, never shying away from the word in a
crusade to destigmatize rotundness. Alan is also the kind of tall that
involves ducking through doorways and shopping at specialty stores.
My
own drooping belly sits below a set of wibbly T-Rex arms and what Alan
often describes (in a froggy French accent) as my li’l floppy tiddies. At
which point he flips both of them like a hamburger and makes a satisfied
sizzling sound. Alan has a swooping mane of hair, while my hairline has
already begun to consider retirement. My round face gives me the features
of an old baby and my terrible posture makes me look like an old man
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