Carson and I walked into my bedroom and I closed the door.

“There’s the power strip on the side of my desk. We can plug in your iPod there.”

I got the power adaper out of my desk drawer, Carson handed me the USB end of the cable, and I plugged it in to the power strip. “Okay.”

I watched as Carson carefully removed his new iPod from the box and connected the other end of the cable to his iPod. We watched as the battery charging symbol was displayed.

“When we get up tomorrow it should be fully charged.”

Carson smiled. “Thanks, David. I’ll go brush my teeth now, if that’s okay.”

“No problemo.”

While he was in the bathroom I got undressed. When Carson came back in the bedroom he stood and sort of stared at me.

“Uh… umm… what do you wear to bed?”

I chuckled. “You mean when I’m sleeping alone or with a friend?”

“I guess I mean when you and I are sleeping together.”

“Well, alone I sleep with my briefs on. With a friend it depends on what they prefer. So it’s your call.”

“Briefs are okay with me.” He looked down at his left arm. “I can get my shirt off, but I can’t get my t-shirt off by myself.”

“I’ll help with that. Lemme know when you’re ready.”

I finished undressing, except for my briefs, and piled my clothes on my desk chair. I pointed to the guest chair.

“You can put your clothes on that chair.”

I watched him slip his left arm out of the sling then unbutton his shirt. He slipped it off of his right arm them eased it over the cast and off. He tossed them on the back of the chair.

“How’s your arm feel?”

“Not bad. I’m amazed that it’s not hurting that much. But I did take a pain pill right after dinner. That probably helped.”

“How can I help with your T?”

“The best way is if you pull it off my right arm, then over my shoulder and head, then slip if past my cast and off.”

“Okay, that sounds easy. If I’m hurting you, just let me know.”

It took a few seconds to get the T off, and I put it on top of his shirt. I could see he couldn’t get his belt off.

“Lemme get that for you.”

He stood there while I undid his belt, and I went ahead and unzipped his khakis.

“Sit down on the bed and I’ll untie your shoes and take them and your socks off.”

After that was done, I asked him, “Stand and I’ll pull down your pants, then sit again and I’ll pull them off.”

He started to laugh. “Do you always undress your friends when they stay over?”

I grinned and wiggled my eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

We both laughed, and I folded his pants and put them on the seat of the chair. Then I pulled the bedspread off and let it fall on the floor at the end of the bed. I started to walk to the right of my bed.

“David, can I sleep on that side?”

“Sure. I thought you wanted to be on the other side so it would be easier for you to get up.”

 “I won’t have a problem getting up on either side. I want to be on that side so you won’t accidentally bump my left arm.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

He got his sling and put it on, then pulled back the covers and got in bed. I checked the alarm and changed the time to nine o’clock. No reason to get up any earlier on the day after Thanksgiving. I walked around to my side and turned on the lamp, and turned off the ceiling light as I walked to the bathroom. When I got back I saw that Carson was lying close to my side of the bed. I got in and reached up to turn off the lamp.

“Can you leave the light on?”

“Sure…”

“It won’t bother you?”

“Nope. What if I turn it to the low setting? It has a three-way bulb.”

“That’s fine. I… uh… don’t want to be in the dark. At Hathaway House there’s a light on in the hall, and bedroom doors have to be open. I guess I’ve gotten used to that.”

I set the light to low, and slid over so I was near the middle of the bed, close to Carson. We were just a few inches apart, and I could feel his warmth on my left arm.

“Goodnight, Carson.”

“Goodnight, David.”

He moved around like he was getting settled, and his right arm rubbed against my left arm. It sent a tingle up my arm and down to my toes. It felt good. Very good.

He pulled his arm away. “Sorry.”

I moved my arm so it pressed against his.

He let out a big sigh, and took my left hand in his right. His hand was pressing against my left leg.

“Is it okay if I hold your hand? I sorta need….”

“It feels good, Carson. Real nice.” I moved closer to him so we were tightly pressed against each other, and the backs of our hands were pressed against each other’s legs. “Is this okay?”

“Ohhh, yeah.”

I let my thumb rub along the top of his thumb. The feeling was so totally awesome. “Do you mind…?”

“No. Don’t stop.”

He began to rub his thumb against my index finger, and he turned his head so we were looking at each other.

“Can I tell you something, David?”

“Sure. What?”

“It’s kind of embarrassing. Not something that guys our age would….” He stopped talking and just looked at me, waiting for me to say something.

“Hey. We’re best friends forever. You can tell me anything. Everything. I’m here for you, you’re here for me. It’s always going to be between us, private, no telling anybody without an okay. Okay?” I grinned, trying to put him at ease.

“Okay. It’s a long story.” Carson took a deep breath. “When I lived with the Adamsen’s it was good, they were very nice. But they didn’t have many relatives near here like you have, and none that were my age. Then at school some kids found out that I was a foster kid and pretty soon everybody knew, and it was tough to get past that. Seems like everyone thinks foster kids always get moved around a lot, so you get ignored. It’s like they think there’s no need to try to be friendly when you’ll be gone in a few weeks. Some teachers and administrators think a foster kid is a delinquent, a badass, so they don’t trust you. Some kids think the same thing, so they avoid you. I was able to make a few friends, but no one close, and for sure no one who’d be a best friend who I could talk to like I’m talking to you.

“At Hathaway House all the guys are… I guess it’s like they’re closed in, all inside themselves. I’m that way too, now that I’m there, and I never used to be that way. I don’t know, maybe it’s because it’s the first foster facility I’ve been at that’s for teens, and I haven’t been there very long. Even though I’m with a bunch of guys, I feel isolated. It’s hard to become a good friend with another guy ‘cause you don’t know when they’ll be moved to a foster family or to a group home. And if you do, it’s tough to lose a good friend. Another thing is most of the guys there are older, 15, 16, or 17, there aren’t many my age. That makes it even harder for me to have a friend, and impossible to have a best friend there.

“Then there’s a whole thing about being called gay. If a couple of guys are suspected of… messing around, you know, having sex with each other, they’d be called gay even if it isn’t true.

“Sometimes I felt kind of alone living at the Adamsen’s, not having any close friends. I feel alone all the time I’ve been at Hathaway. Mr. Hagen and the staff are friendly and try to make you feel welcome and part of things, they really do, but it’s not enough. It’s a temporary place, and I know I won’t be there long.

“Being here, with you and your family, made me realize how alone I feel. I don’t want to be alone anymore, David. I want a family, friends, a best friend. I know you and I are best friends, but what if I get fostered to a family, or sent to a group home miles from here? It could happen. Yeah, you and I’d promise to get together, phone, email, text, but after a while that would all stop because we’d be too far apart. Guys at Hathaway tell me that’s what happens, that it’s happened to them.

“You know the worst thing? It’s not knowing what’s going to happen to me and when it’s going to happen. I know that something will happen. Hathaway House is strictly temporary until they find another foster family for me or I get put into a group home. It scares me, David. I ask myself, why did my life turn out like this?

“Shit. I’ve probably put you to sleep with my ranting about my suck of a life. It sounds like I’m feeling sorry for myself, and I guess I am. Sorry.”

I saw the light reflected off tears glistening in Carson’s eyes. I turned onto my left side and reached over and kissed him on the cheek.

I grinned. “I figured you needed a hug, but I didn’t want to hurt your broken arm, so I decided to give you a kiss instead.”

“Thanks, David. A hug would have been nice, but the kiss was even better.” He looked at me for a few seconds, his tears running down his cheek onto the pillow. He carefully lifted his left arm, rolled onto his right side so our bodies were pressed against each other, rested his left arm on my bicep, and gave me a quick kiss on my lips. I put my right hand on his waist and kissed him on the lips, just like he’d kissed me, but I held it longer.

I laughed. “Now I’m ahead by one. What’re you gonna do about that?”

That made him laugh. “Dufus! Here I am all injured and all you want to do is get me to kiss you again! Okay, okay. You asked for it, David, so here it is.” He leaned in and kissed me on the tip of my nose.

“Hey, that’s not fair! A nose isn’t lips! You still owe me.”

“A nose is fair. Your nose. It’s really fair, nice and cute and fair.”

I thought for a few seconds, and figured out what I wanted to say. “You still owe me a kiss on the lips. No nose knows a kiss like lips.”

 “No nose knows…” Carson couldn’t say any more because he was laughing so hard.

“Hey! I made up a poem. It’s a good poem, too. Don’t laugh at it.”

He stopped laughing, but it took a few seconds. “A poem? That was a poem? Well, go figure. I guess because you made up a poem I should make up the kiss you think I owe you.” He moved in and kissed me on the lips, this time again a little bit longer, then pulled back. “We’re almost even now.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah. When’re you gonna kiss me on my nose?”

I kissed him on the tip of his nose. Then I realized something.

“Uh, Carson, I don’t think we should do anything more right now.”

He looked disappointed. “How come?”

“Your arm. You couldn’t move it out of the way if I accidentally bumped it. I don’t want to hurt you. And you could hurt it yourself if you moved it around.”

“Damn. You’re right. It is sort of buzzing already.” He looked at me all serious. “So this is just a postponement?”

“Absolutely. Only a postponement.” I made sure to emphasize the ‘only’ part.

That made him smile. We both turned to lie on our backs. I was a bit uh… uncomfortable, so I got up. “Gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

When I got back in bed Carson got up. He was grinning, and repeated what I had said, “Gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

When he got back in bed he started to giggle. That set me off, and in a couple seconds we were both laughing out loud.

Someone pounded on my bedroom door, then opened it. It was Alan.

“Hey, keep the talking and laughing down, okay? I have to get up early.”

“What’s early?” I asked him.

“Seven. I’m driving Jen to Cal Poly. She’s moving into her dorm today.”

“Okay. Sorry for keeping you awake.”

Alan started to pull the door shut then pushed it open again. “And no snoring either, okay?” and he laughed as he closed the door.

I turned to Carson. “That was funny.”

“The part about you snoring?”

“No. What’s funny is that he had to have his ear to the door to hear us. We weren’t very loud.”

“I think we were.”

“Well, if we’re gonna talk and laugh he’s gonna have to put up with it. Just like he has to put up with my snoring, which I don’t do anyway.”

I yawned, then so did Carson.

“I don’t know about you, David, but I’m tired. And before you start snoring I’m going to go to sleep. Night.”

“Night, Carson.” I whispered, “I don’t snore!” and he whispered, “Ask me in the morning.” Then he yawned again, and that made me yawn.

I heard Carson’s breathing change as he fell asleep. I turned my head and watched him sleep. I liked him a lot, as a best friend and I hoped soon as my foster brother. I stared at the ceiling. Carson and I met two days ago, and already we were best friends. Dad was working with Mr. Hagen to find out how we could be a foster family for Carson. If that worked out he’d be my foster brother. How long would it take? What if they sent him to some other foster family first? What if he got moved to a group home? I decided I had to talk to Dad to get answers to these questions. As I fell asleep I realized that becoming Carson's foster family might get complicated, and I sure hoped that wouldn’t happen.