What's Love Between Friends?

I.

Sam Caplan didn't try to be the black sheep of his Alabama family. He just was. Nothing he did was right. He was the baby of a very religious and successful family. His oldest brother Shane was a surgeon. His sister Sandy was a school teacher who married a lawyer. His twin older brothers Sean and Stephen were Merchant Marines. Sam, on the other hand, was a wash-out.

Sam wasn't a ten in the looks department, but if he wasn't celibate, he would have easily gotten tail. He had bouncy, shaggy dirty blond hair and freckled nose, coffee brown eyes like a puppy and body like that of a farmer's. He wasn't a big fitness buff, but he ran a lot and lifted weights a couple times a week (if just to not feel so inadequate next to his Marine brothers). He had an infectious smile that melted the heart of many girls, but Sam was usually just their best friend.

Sam had been a French major in college who had no interest in school at all. He partied, he slept through most of his classes, and he daydreamed. He'd always been carefree, but some of his nonchalant attitude was because he was in love with his girlfriend Amy, whom he'd met when he was twelve. He was convinced he would marry her...someday, whenever that was. It was because of Amy that he became pre-law, and tried to cram four years of schooling into one semester. He took the LSATS once during his senior year, and twice after that. Each time, he bombed them.

Sam tried to be chipper, but when his father basically ordered him to work in his ministry after a year off from graduating college, Sam's heart began to sink. Reality was crashing down on him. Adding to a job he disliked more than anything, his family was pressuring him to marry Amy. Sam wanted to- he really did- but every time he wanted to ask her, he got cold feet. He worried that the weight of being married would be a hundred times worse than working for his dad, and he worried he'd be a bad husband. Amy, after all, was the daughter of a real estate tycoon. Was he even good enough for her?

Things came to a head one afternoon as Sam took his father's Camaro out for a joyride. Sam put the pedal to the floor and turned up the music. He was twenty-three now, and his dad still wouldn't let him borrow the Camaro without a hassle. He sang with the radio as loud as he could while speeding down a dusty road. His father aggravated him. Just because Sam worked for him, it gave his dad license to make him feel like crap. Notwithstanding, he was beginning to doubt his religion. It was a small voice of doubt that started growing bigger when his high school sweetheart Amy suddenly told him she "needed space". He couldn't wait to quit his father's ministry and finally live his life the way he wanted. He shifted gears and went faster.

"Born on the Bayou!" he sang.

Sam looked away from the road for a split second to check his phone. Amy still hadn't gotten back to him. What was the deal with that girl, anyway? He truly loved her. Unfortunately, he also truly loved God, and not being a proponent of premarital sex, he had no way in which to determine if Amy still loved him back after all this time. Space? Doesn't that mean "I'm bored with you"? A deer jumped in front of him. Sam looked up just in time to slam on the breaks.

Crash.

He went through the windshield. The next thing he remembered was his body coming to a dead stop on the pavement.

"Ow! Fuck..."

Sam looked straight up and didn't move. His labored, panicked breath was the only sound for a while. The deer was amazingly not dead. In fact, it walked over to Sam and stared. For a brief moment, Sam and the deer were on the same wavelength. Sam was in awe of the beautiful creature, completely unaware of the seriousness of his accident. She blinked, shook her head, and trotted off. Sam put his hand down to his side and tried to push himself up. He cut his palm on the shattered glass and yelped. It was then that he remembered what had happened.

"Oh shit. I crashed the car."

He wiped his forehead and sighed. He suddenly realized just how far he'd been thrown from the car. A good twenty feet. He got up, brushed himself off, and examined his injuries. A cut on his hand, slightly sore right side...otherwise, he was completely fine.

"Praise Jesus, I'm okay."

He was still out of breath, but was more aware than before. He looked off into the brush. The deer was there, eyes piercing into Sam's consciousness.

"What? What just happened?"

But the deer was gone, and Sam collapsed onto the road. Later at the hospital, Sam excitedly shared his experience with his family.

"Dad, Dad, Dad- I saw God!" Sam had proclaimed from his hospital bed.

His family was gathered around his bedside, shocked and yet humored by the fact that he'd managed to walk away from his stupid accident virtually unharmed. The doctors were just as stumped. One said that the impact should have killed him. Although this seemed quite run-of-the-mill to his family, Sam was convinced his life had been changed forever.

"I'm serious! I saw God!"

"Good." His father, the minster with a gruff presence said. "Did he tell you I was gonna kick your ass for taking my Camaro on a joyride and smashing it up?"

"Dad, I mean it. Please, for once, take me seriously! I had an amazing religious experience!"

"You got thrown from a car at 60 miles an hour and lived. I'd say you got your head rung." Stephen said.

"Heck, maybe his head's been knocked back to normal now," Sean joked.

"Maybe he's got a point," Sandy said. "He did get shot out some twenty feet, and not only lived, but walked away with almost nothing."

"That's just dumb luck." His father growled.

"C'mon, guys. I mean it. I had a real epiphany. I was looking face-to-face with this majestic animal I'd hit and... it talked telepathically to me."

The twins laughed.

"Shut up, it's not funny! It really did! It told me that someone, this person, was missing from my life...And, if I wanted to make my life right, I had to go find-"

"That's absurd." His father told him. "Sam, you did not have an epiphany. You smacked your head on the road after driving too fast and not putting on a seat belt. Now I've had it with your antics. It is time for you to grow up."

Sam's face grew long. His father stormed out of the room. His siblings shrugged, as if to say "He'll get over it" and left too.

"I believe you, son." His mom said, touching his hand.

"You do?"

"Yes. I know you don't mean it, Honey, but sometimes you..."

She sighed. Sam knew what she was going to say, and it made him ache. Something to the effect of, "Sometimes you disappoint us".

"Your father and I would really like it if you gave your LSATS another shot. It'd be good for you to get into a career. To get focused. Maybe then, Amy will want to settle down with you."

"Yes, Mom."

As she left, he mumbled, "But I don't want to be a lawyer."

It was then that he realized why he was so unhappy. Even though he'd always put God and family first, he felt so incomplete. Nobody in his family understood him, and God seemed to have more important things to do and people to help. He closed his eyes and prayed.

"Dear God, I know I haven't asked you this since I was a little boy, and I know the Lord helps those who help themselves, but...if you could find the time, could you...send me a friend? Thanks, God. Amen."

That night, Sam's sleep was restless. He dreamed that he was at a rave, and random people were trying to rub up against him- girls, guys, it didn't matter. At first he was freaked out. Then, he began to feel quite receptive to it. He felt almost liberated. One in particular, a shadowy figure (he could not tell if it was a guy or girl), came right up to him and grabbed his package. It sent a jolt throughout his body. But before he could say or do anything, he woke up.

II.

Sam didn't know it yet, but he was about to get his wish granted by the most unlikely of people. If you'd asked Sam at this point, he probably couldn't name one gay person he'd actually known. He probably could tell you the name of a foreign person either. Such was his upbringing. This person was about to change everything Sam thought was true.

"Look, don't take this the wrong way," the casting director said with a false tone of kindness, "You're great, you really are. But you're just too...oh, LeVon, what's the word?"

"Gorgeous." His assistant suggested from behind the camera.

"Yes, that's it. Gorgeous."

James de Casas (Jimmy to his friends), a bare-chested and easily irritated twenty-three year old model from the tiny European country of Andorra, looked at him, cross and confused. Jimmy was tall and muscular, though a bit on the small side. He took very good hair of his looks which, thanks to his Spanish heritage, were dark and mysterious-looking. Jimmy has a characteristically bad temper, and he could feel himself about to burst once again at this latest casting.

He'd spent two hours to see this supposed genius of fashion, and cancelled a far less prestigious booking just to be there. Jimmy had been an in-demand model since he was five- recruited right off the street, starting with the basic catalogs and working up to runway. He'd been doing high fashion for almost five years now, but the well was drying up fast. Jimmy was well-aware of this.

"Gorgeous? I'm too gorgeous? What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means, Honey, that you're hot, but you're just too hot. We need a little scruff, a little- oh, what's the word, Levon?"

"Manliness."

He swooned.

"Oh, yes- manliness. This shoot calls for a man a little less refined than you."

"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard. You told my agent, 'Tall, dark, handsome underwear model- accent a plus,' and I'm a tall and handsome Andorran with an edgy black haircut. What more do you want?"

"Yeah, that haircut is so last season. Buzz is in, now." The assistant said, not looking up from his camera's display.

"Look, I don't want you to be angry with me, Jimmy. You've always been one of my favorite models. But times are changing. People want accessibility, they want that 'hey, he kinda looks like me' kinda thing. Pretty just isn't in right now. You need to just wait this trend out."

"Wait? Wait for what? I haven't had a booking in months! I need to fucking eat, too!"

"Sorry, honey."

Jimmy took that as his cue to leave and put his shirt back on. He wanted to punch out the two gaywads as hard as he could, and he would have, if he didn't agree with them. Every casting call he'd been on in Miami for weeks ended up the same. "You're good, but not what we're looking for." As he left the studio and strolled down the dumpy stairway, he was keenly aware that he'd been spending every day since he was five preparing for high fashion, only to be obsolete. He was twenty three now. Next year, he might be too old. Then what was he going to do?

He hit the club that night and scouted for someone to take home. He sported very tight dark denim jeans and a fitted black tee. His eyes were rimmed with eyeliner and he'd gelled his hair up into a bit of a faux-hawk. Jimmy hardly needed to spruce up. He was naturally beautiful and attracted both sexes quite easily (which was quite fortunately, considering he was bi). Even though Jimmy was a bit of a player, he preferred still to take men home.

It'd been five months since he'd broke up with his partner Blaine, and he wouldn't admit to himself that at least part of it was his fault. Who needed relationships, anyway? Too much baggage. He saw a guy he really liked and chatted him up.

"You wanna come home with me?" he finally asked the guy, whose name he'd forgotten as instantly as it was told to him.

"You asking me?" Said the girl next to him.

Jimmy looked at her and shrugged.

"Both of you. C'mon."

Unlike Sam, Jimmy loved to be the center of attention. He sandwiched himself between his girl and boy conquest and let them fondle him to their heart's content. He took turns giving them rough French kisses while he stripped them clean of clothes. He chose to lick the clit of his girl while digging his fingers deep into her, while he lay supine with his legs up high, letting his boy thrust his cock in and out. Jimmy loved the taste of his girl getting wet, and judging by her bucking motions over his tongue, so did she.

The boy was buried deep, slapping his sack onto Jimmy's cheeks. He wasn't terribly skilled, and if Jimmy was feel more charitable then, he would have thrown the boy down on all fours and shown him how it's done. Jimmy, however, felt lazy. When he got bored and felt ready to come, he motioned for the girl to straddle his hard awaiting cock that the boy had been intermittently stroking when he could remember to in the throngs of passion. She did. He moaned loudly, feeling two people pump him- the girl rocked up and down, the boy rocking in and out. They faced each other and made out loudly. He closed his eyes and let them finish the job.

Jimmy awoke around four a.m., bleary-eyed and sick to his stomach. He went to the toilet and puked up everything he'd put into his system while he'd partied at the club- fried food he wasn't used to, numerous alcoholic drinks, the other things brought on by drug use and sex with strangers. He flushed. As he washed out his mouth, he stared at himself in the mirror. Twenty-three. He looked for signs of aging. The only things he saw were the smudged lines of his black eyeliner, which he wiped off.

He went back to the bedroom and looked at what he'd brought home to numb his pain- a silly blond girl, and a cute, if not ubiquitous brown-haired boy. Both felt good. Neither completely numbed the pain. He blamed his bisexuality for not feeling satisfied, but not nearly as much as he blamed his useless alcoholic dad. He wondered if one begot the other. Getting the shit kicked out of you for not bringing home a paycheck when you were five can make you maladjusted. Then again, Dad finding out you were gay could give him a reason to beat the shit out of you. It made no difference to Jimmy which had come first. He'd left home at fifteen and never looked back. He sighed. He wondered what Blaine was up to. He looked at Blaine's Facebook profile. It didn't say he was in a relationship, but it didn't say that when they were dating, either. He stared at his picture- his beautiful face. Jimmy sighed, shut down his computer, and crawled back in bed between his conquests.

So empty, so alone. Before he realized it, his eyes grew heavy. Tears sprang out from under his eyelids, and rolled down his cheeks as he fell asleep. Tomorrow would be different for Jimmy. He was about to get the biggest surprise of his life.

III.

The next day, Sam was released from the hospital. And in spite of pleas from his mother, Sam took his jalopy out for a ride. He needed it- it was the only thing that would clear his head. His father was still pissed at him for... well, being him. And Amy hadn't come to see him. What was up with that?

Sam just drove and drove, and before he knew it, he ended up in Miami. Feeling spirited enough to party, he wondered if he could brave being a little un-Christian tonight. He stepped into the first bar he saw and immediately made quick friends with a guy his age, Jimmy from...where was it? He liked his accent. It was completely different from anything Sam ever heard before. He listened to him talk with glee. He asked him again where he was from, and he told him.

"Andorra, huh?"

"I swear- it's a real country."

"You're not pulling my leg?"

"No. Look, see?"

Jimmy brought up Andorra on his IPhone for his new friend to see. He felt good about this one. Within thirty seconds of meeting this young silly blond with the thick Southern drawl in the bar, he felt at ease with him. It was like they'd known each other all their lives. Sam looked down at the phone, and laughed.

"I'll be damned! There is a country between France and Spain. How come I wasn't taught this in school? How did my American education forget a whole fucking country?"

Jimmy laughed.

"I don't know. I guess we Andorrans don't get out much. Thanks to modeling, I've been all over the world. I guess I'm fortunate. So, Sam, what brings you out here? You're obviously not from Miami either."

"Oh, just getting away for the weekend... from my dad. He's a minister up in Greenshed."

"Where's that?"

"Alabama."

"Oh...deep south."

"Yep- God, Country, and Drinking."

"Well, I'll drink to that last one."

They clicked glasses and drink. Sam had an infectious smile that made Jimmy happy in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. In another lifetime, Sam would have been a great model. The way his freckled cheeks dimpled softly when he laughed, his shaggy, dirty blond hair...it was exactly what Jimmy loved in a guy. He was sweet, outgoing, innocent. Too innocent. As his mouth ran a mile a minute, Jimmy realized Sam was more naïve than a gay guy his age ought to be. Sam had no clue Jimmy had been hitting on him. He figured he'd better end the fantasy sooner rather than later.

"Sam, do you know where you are right now?"

"Um...in a bar, in Miami?"

"Yeah...you're in a gay bar."

The color in Sam's face turned from alabaster to bright red. He was trying not to look like a deer in headlights, but it was too late.

"Oh...I was wondering where all the chicks were..."

Jimmy laughed. He didn't know why he was so amused by him.

"So...are you...?"

"Gay? Not exactly. I'm bi."

"Buy what?"

Jimmy burst into raucous laughter.

"Bisexual, silly."

"Oh...really?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Oh..."

"Does that bother you?"

"No. Not at all. I think you're real nice. I just never met a bisexual person before. How does it even work, if you don't mind my asking? What do you like better, girls or guys?"

"Depends." Jimmy said, with a sly smile as he sipped his drink.

"On what?"

"On what you're asking about. Girls are better for fucking. Guys are better for relationships. Haven't found out who's the overall winner yet, so I swing back and forth."

"Oh."

Sam sipped his drink. His facial expression looked as if he were in deep thought. He was trying to formulate a question, and he didn't want to sound like an idiot.

"So- sorry if I'm nosy."

"It's okay."

"I just wanna know how you...well, you know, knew."

"You mean how I knew I was bi? Well... when I was sixteen I fell in love for the first time with a guy model, so I thought for the next two years that I was gay. Then, when I was eighteen I slept with a girl model. So, there you go. Nothing much to it."

Sam thought. His bottom lip jutted out as he pondered his next question. Jimmy thought it was cute.

"Oh, I see." Sam said, "You know, if I was a model- around only the most beautiful people in the world- I'd probably have a hard time deciding too. I mean- it's always been easy for me. All the guys back home are ugly."

This made both of them burst into laughter.

"Sam, you are the coolest guy I have ever met."

"I was gonna say the same about you."

"I got an idea," Jimmy said, apprehensively. "What you say we leave and go back to my place. I got a pool table. We can play a few rounds. I got a bar at home too, so..."

"Yeah, alright."

Sam's acceptance caught him off guard.

"Great. Let's go. Oh, hey, would you mind driving? I'm a bit tipsy."