Title: It Could Happen
Author: Mia Kerrick
Genre: M/M/M Romance, Polyamory
Release Date: June 5, 2017
Publisher: Dreamspinner
Summary:Three misfits, mismatched in every way—Henry Perkins, Brody Decker, and Danny Denisco—have been friends throughout high school. Now in their senior year, the boys realize their relationship is changing, that they’re falling in love. But they face opposition at every turn—from outside and from within themselves. Moving to the next level will take all the courage, understanding, and commitment they can muster. But it could happen.
Henry is a star athlete and the son of religious parents who have little concern for the future he wants. Brody is a quirky dreamer and adrenaline junkie, and Danny is an emo artist and the target of bullies. Despite their differences they’ve always had each other’s backs, and with each of them facing a new and unique set of challenges, that support is more important than ever. Is it worth risking the friendship they all depend on for the physical and romantic relationship they all desire?
In this unconventional new adult romance, three gay teens brave societal backlash—as well as the chance that they might lose their treasured friendship—to embark on a committed polyamorous relationship.
Brody
Lunch block B is symbolic of our ruin:
Henry has joined forces with the jocks. He is a jock, so it makes complete sense. And he seems happy enough, which is good. He hasn’t looked at me once since the last night he slept in my bed— tucked between Danny and me—the day before he refused the offer of my Jeep keys. Henry had no interest in taking the Jeep for a final joyride. I respect him for that.
Danny has taken to eating upstairs with the artsy crowd. For all I know, he has his eye on Mr. Lansing. Mr. Lansing is middle-aged, kind of cute, and likely even gay. He’s nuts about Danny, if not way too old for him, but that’s par for the course in Danny’s life. He’s better than most of Danny’s boyfriends who came before.
As for me, I eat alone.
It’s okay. I’m a loner, really.
It’s cool.
And I write this without any bitterness, which is hard to believe, but it’s also true. I’m returning to my natural state, after an almost four-year break. High school was a pleasant interlude of connection in a life I’m meant to spend without anyone to answer to.
LOL. “Pleasant interlude” makes pain sound so inviting.
But it’s all good. I like being alone.
Time to stop being so dramatic.
There are so many important things I’ve long neglected to do.
I’m ready to get started.
Henry: My life
Lunch block B is still the hardest part of my day, and it has been since about a week after Danny, Brody, and I went our separate ways. Strangely it’s also the highlight of my day. I’m surrounded by the cool people—the ones who matter in school. We crack jokes and laugh really loud. Some of them strategically pick on weak kids and even vulnerable teachers in the caf. Then we laugh even louder.
I never join in with that bullshit, although I admit to smiling and chuckling a little when everybody else is laughing. I kind of have to if I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. Thankfully the people who matter have forgotten all about the day I held hands with Danny and Brody, one lunch table to the right of where I sit right now. It’s like that never happened.
I look over at Brody, who sits alone every day at lunch. He has the entire “Island of Misfit Toys” lunch table to himself. Danny must be eating lunch upstairs in the art lounge. I don’t have a clue. In fact, I haven’t seen him in ages. Maybe he quit school.
Brody and I catch eyes. It happens once during every lunch block B. And I’m the one who makes it happen. I stare at him until he looks my way. It’s my only connection to those guys, and it makes my eyes burn every time, but I do it anyway. Brody always smiles when our gazes meet. At first it was a hopeful smile, now it’s just a pleasant one. He’s not an asshole, even to the guy who fucked him over.
I miss them so badly. I miss my old friends. I miss having real friends. I miss what was growing between us.
Henry: My life
Danny marches out the front door of his apartment building the second I step onto the snowy walkway. I turn around and follow him back to the minivan that I left running on the road. We get in, and Danny stares straight ahead.
“We’ve gotten about six inches already,” I tell him. “And the wind is picking up.”
“Thanks for the update, Mr. Weatherman. Now let’s figure out where the hell Brody is.”
My stomach does a somersault. I’m out of my league. Brody was always the one to guide us through the shit. “Well, first let’s find a place I can park, and we can talk.”
“Go to Cullfield Pizza. They always keep their lot plowed.”
We drive there in silence. But what is there to say? The only thing we have in common is that we both want to find Brody.
Once I park I ask, “Do you think Brody would go to Branton Beach? He was really into it during that hurricane.”
Danny turns in the passenger seat so he can look my way, but not at me. “Yeah, he could be there. He loves the wind.”
“Remember he went to that hill on the night of the really bad lightning storm last summer?”
“Pierce Hill. That’s another place he could be.” Danny smiles, probably thinking about Brody. “He told me he almost got struck by lightning that night.”
“He’s reckless.”
“He always has been. It’s like he has a death wish or something.” For the first time, we look each other straight in the eyes. It’s been so long. We both shudder, and my eyes begin to burn and fill.
“Don’t you dare fuckin’ cry, Perkins. This whole thing is your fault. If he dies today, it’s all on you.”
Free Verse Poetry by Danny D
“The good stuff”
waking up between them
touching without thinking
laughing about nothing
holding hands in public
planning nights together
believing it can happen
trusting it won’t end
Lunch block B is symbolic of our ruin:
Henry has joined forces with the jocks. He is a jock, so it makes complete sense. And he seems happy enough, which is good. He hasn’t looked at me once since the last night he slept in my bed— tucked between Danny and me—the day before he refused the offer of my Jeep keys. Henry had no interest in taking the Jeep for a final joyride. I respect him for that.Danny has taken to eating upstairs with the artsy crowd. For all I know, he has his eye on Mr. Lansing. Mr. Lansing is middle-aged, kind of cute, and likely even gay. He’s nuts about Danny, if not way too old for him, but that’s par for the course in Danny’s life. He’s better than most of Danny’s boyfriends who came before.
As for me, I eat alone.It’s okay. I’m a loner, really.
It’s cool.
And I write this without any bitterness, which is hard to believe, but it’s also true. I’m returning to my natural state, after an almost four-year break. High school was a pleasant interlude of connection in a life I’m meant to spend without anyone to answer to.
LOL. “Pleasant interlude” makes pain sound so inviting.
But it’s all good. I like being alone.
Time to stop being so dramatic.
There are so many important things I’ve long neglected to do.
I’m ready to get started.
Henry: My life
Lunch block B is still the hardest part of my day, and it has been since about a week after Danny, Brody, and I went our separate ways. Strangely it’s also the highlight of my day. I’m surrounded by the cool people—the ones who matter in school. We crack jokes and laugh really loud. Some of them strategically pick on weak kids and even vulnerable teachers in the caf. Then we laugh even louder.
I look over at Brody, who sits alone every day at lunch. He has the entire “Island of Misfit Toys” lunch table to himself. Danny must be eating lunch upstairs in the art lounge. I don’t have a clue. In fact, I haven’t seen him in ages. Maybe he quit school.
Brody and I catch eyes. It happens once during every lunch block B. And I’m the one who makes it happen. I stare at him until he looks my way. It’s my only connection to those guys, and it makes my eyes burn every time, but I do it anyway. Brody always smiles when our gazes meet. At first it was a hopeful smile, now it’s just a pleasant one. He’s not an asshole, even to the guy who fucked him over.
I miss them so badly. I miss my old friends. I miss having real friends. I miss what was growing between us.
Henry: My life
Danny marches out the front door of his apartment building the second I step onto the snowy walkway. I turn around and follow him back to the minivan that I left running on the road. We get in, and Danny stares straight ahead.
“We’ve gotten about six inches already,” I tell him. “And the wind is picking up.”
“Thanks for the update, Mr. Weatherman. Now let’s figure out where the hell Brody is.”
My stomach does a somersault. I’m out of my league. Brody was always the one to guide us through the shit. “Well, first let’s find a place I can park, and we can talk.”
“Go to Cullfield Pizza. They always keep their lot plowed.”We drive there in silence. But what is there to say? The only thing we have in common is that we both want to find Brody.
Once I park I ask, “Do you think Brody would go to Branton Beach? He was really into it during that hurricane.”
Danny turns in the passenger seat so he can look my way, but not at me. “Yeah, he could be there. He loves the wind.”
“Remember he went to that hill on the night of the really bad lightning storm last summer?”
“Pierce Hill. That’s another place he could be.” Danny smiles, probably thinking about Brody. “He told me he almost got struck by lightning that night.”
“He’s reckless.”
“He always has been. It’s like he has a death wish or something.” For the first time, we look each other straight in the eyes. It’s been so long. We both shudder, and my eyes begin to burn and fill.
“Don’t you dare fuckin’ cry, Perkins. This whole thing is your fault. If he dies today, it’s all on you.”Free Verse Poetry by Danny D
“The good stuff”
waking up between them
touching without thinking
laughing about nothing
holding hands in public
planning nights together
believing it can happen
trusting it won’t end
Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.
Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young men and their relationships, and she believes that sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.
Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.
KOBO / DREAMSPINNER / B&N
B&N / KOBO / DREAMSPINNER
Congratulations on your new release Mia I'm looking forward to read Henry, Brody and Danny's story.
ReplyDeleteThanks for supporting me today!
ReplyDeleteit sounds great !!!
ReplyDelete