Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/326

 yield to this passion engulfing his being. This attraction was too strong to find easy or swift appeasement, and it was quite possible it might explode unless Rogers released him. He was thankful for the water … thankful it wasn't too clear … but Rogers could feel his tense body growing more so with each passing second. He couldn't hide from this.

Then, Gaylord Le Claire, that sober young man whose wet hair hung over his forehead, and whose blue eyes were tense, would lie a long time in his lonely bed and wish it had never happened. And yet to just kiss those lips so close to him would be so wonderful … But he shouldn't … it wouldn't be fair to Blake but still the longing was there. And in the warm water a shiver went through him.

"You're not cold are you Gay?"

"No Glenn," he answered … "I'm not cold."

"Are you scared of water?"

"No … silly … it's not the water …" He broke away and there welled up in him stronger than ever that he must get away. He was not going to do anything he might regret. He was going to be like normal boys … not like the ones he had seen in New Orleans. He looked back at Rogers and called out, "I'll beat you to the other side."

"Better hurry then," screamed Rogers and started swimming after Gaylord.

Gaylord did reach the other side first but as he tried to scale the clay bank bordering the water's edge, he slipped. Rogers' embrace was waiting. Gaylord stood so still that Rogers looked at him puzzled. Then he moved and put one hand on Rogers' shoulder. "I slipped," he grinned. "Thanks for catching me." His hand remained on the wet flesh.

"But you beat me. I didn't know you were such a good swimmer."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Glenn." Now why did he say that?

"Is there," grinned Rogers. And the way he said it, putting his hands around the other's waist, made the blood rush to Gaylord's head.

There was a blast of sound, a splash of water behind him and Gaylord tightened both hands around Rogers' neck. "Is that somebody?" whispered Gaylord. 316