Connectivity Read online

  Connectivity

  Copyright © 2018 by Whitney Cannon

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission, except in the case of the brief quotations embodied in the critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published by Whitney Cannon

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All products and/or brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.

  First Edition, October 2018

  -Acknowledgements-

  Thank you to my family for your continuous love and support. As always, I love you.

  To my cover models, Leo and Chance:

  It was an honor to work with you and to get to know you. I truly appreciate your time and willingness to pose for such beautiful pictures. Thank you.

  To those people who have answered my endless questions, read for me, and provided guidance, suggestions, and advice, thank you. I know for a fact that I’d still be wandering around like the lost baby author that I am without your support and hand-holding.

  -Table of Contents-

  -Acknowledgements-

  -Table of Contents-

  -Prologue-

  -I-

  -II-

  -III-

  -IV-

  -V-

  -VI-

  -VII-

  -VIII-

  -IX-

  -X-

  -XI-

  -XII-

  -XIII-

  -XIV-

  -XV-

  -XVI-

  -XVII-

  -XVIII-

  -XIX-

  -About the Author-

  -Prologue-

  Taking his position, Cory psyched himself up for the next inning. He could see everything from his position in left field as his mind focused on the game. He watched his parents and other spectators in the bleachers cheer as the next batter came up to the plate. The game was in the top of the fourth inning, and his team trailed by one.

  The newest batter seemed tall, maybe the tallest on the team, with broad shoulders that filled out his white jersey. He had shoulder-length blond hair, pulled back with a hair tie, that poked out from under his cap and helmet. Loosening up his swing, the new batter practiced with his bat over home plate. He was not Cory’s type at all.

  Their pitcher took in the call from the catcher and got ready to throw the first pitch. Winding his arm back, the ball flew through the air toward home plate. Cory punched his fist into his mitt and readied himself if he needed to respond.

  Hitting the ball with a lithe movement and an ease that would make most of his teammates jealous, the ball launched through the air toward deep right field. Cory’s teammate, Liam, was already on the move and responded to the lasered ball automatically. He opened his glove and caught the ball with ease.

  One out.

  The next batter was a smaller guy, more Cory’s own height. Cory checked out how cute he looked in his tight-fitting baseball pants and smiled to himself. He’d always thought the uniforms were a perk of his chosen sport. The batter, however, seemed less at ease with the bat in his hand than the last batter had been. The guy arranged his feet in the dirt around home plate and propped the bat up near his shoulder, taking a few practice swings.

  Again, Samuel’s arm moved lightning quick and the ball was on its way to challenge the batter. Either the batter didn’t like the look of the pitch, or just couldn’t get his bat to move, but the ball sailed into the outstretched glove of the catcher. The umpire called a strike and the ball made its return journey to the pitcher's mound.

  The next pitch was much the same as the last, with a very similar outcome. No swing and a strike.

  It might have been imagined, but Cory almost thought he saw a smile play on the lips of the batter as he watched the second pitch return to the pitcher's glove. Cory squinted. He was too far away to be seeing things clearly. Maybe the guy wasn’t as cute as Cory had thought.

  Samuel must have figured another out was on the horizon and loosed another ball that looked identical to the first two. The guy at bat reacted like a cobra strike. The ball never stood a chance. It was met head-on with a force that seemed unnatural from such a small figure.

  The ball rocketed off the bat at an astonishing rate. It almost whistled as it traveled through the air. The action of that swing caught almost everyone off guard, including Cory, who just tried to comprehend that the rocketing ball was heading his way extremely fast. His instinct and training wanted him to put up his glove and catch the missile that closed in on him. But he was so astonished at this unexpected sight that he froze and did nothing. He just stared down the ball that had challenged him to a duel. With scarcely a moment to register the pain, Cory grimaced and fell to the ground.

  -I-

  Another Friday afternoon spent at school and another Friday night spent at the hospital. That had become the mundane existence of Josh’s senior year of high school. When others were out partying or living up the last remaining weeks before graduation, trying to soak up all the moments they had left before they needed to enter the real world, Josh already knew the real world. He’d been volunteering in the hospital since the beginning of his senior year and even though he was only planning to go to the local community college, he and his dad had discussed that his volunteer hours would look good when he finally did apply to the four-year college of his choice.

  He wasn’t in love with the idea of becoming a doctor or physical therapist like his grandpa, but his dad worked in hospital administration and assured him there were plenty of different jobs available that didn’t require him to go to med school. His dad and grandpa had only ever talked about the medical field as a career path for him, but he wasn’t convinced that was where his heart was.

  He had a love for art, more than science, but he also realized the connections he’d made in the hospital would at least make getting hours, or even a summer job easier to attain.

  In the meantime, Josh tried not to dwell on the fact that the next day was his senior prom, and he wasn’t going. Not by his choice really, but he’d accepted the fact that dating in high school just wasn’t going to happen for him. Of course, he could go stag, or with one of the few friends he had, but they were already going with other people, or like his best friend, just weren’t going at all. Josh had been okay with the idea, but as the date grew closer and everyone was constantly talking about their arrangements, or their outfit, or some other detail, he alternated between being annoyed, jealous, or frustrated that he was left out of the discussions.

  Being gay made Josh one of the outcasts at his school, or at least in his current senior class. Last year there had been a senior named Rich who was gay, but ever since he’d graduated, Josh and his best friend were the only ones out at his school. He suspected there were a few others out there, but for whatever reason, they had chosen to remain quiet.

  It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Even though his hormones were telling him otherwise, Josh realized he was far more likely to find someone to date after he graduated. His private school didn’t have the widest pool of contenders and likely contributed to the lack of available candidates. Pressure from overbearing parents and threats t
o keeping quiet in order to protect a family image were likely adding to Josh’s single status.

  Grabbing up his backpack, Josh slipped it onto his shoulder and headed toward the school parking lot. Using the drive home to clear his depressing thoughts, Josh groaned a little internally when his mind shifted to thinking about his upcoming evening at the hospital.

  He didn’t hate it necessarily, it was just more of the usual every shift. The names of the people in the beds changed, as well as their reasons for being there, but it was mostly the same thing for him every time. Changing linens, delivering food and flowers, and stripping down patient rooms after they were released, were just a few of the things he was allowed to do.

  Not yet being eighteen, Josh was limited to tasks where he didn’t interact directly with the patients themselves. He wasn’t allowed to read their charts or know why they were there, but he did have some very slight interaction with them when passing between rooms or delivering items as necessary.

  Arriving home from school, Josh threw his backpack down on his bed and promptly returned to the kitchen to start cooking an early dinner of pasta with jarred sauce. He did, however, make enough for his dad, so he wouldn’t have to do too much after he got home from work. Friday’s they usually didn’t see each other until Josh came home after his hospital shift. He sealed his dad’s pasta in a food container and sat down in the den to watch TV while he ate.

  Once he finished his meal, Josh changed his clothes and messed around with his phone for a while on his bed. After seeing the latest school news posted all over social media he grabbed his camera and fiddled with that for something to do. He cleaned the few lenses he had and checked the batteries. If he were to admit his favorite hobby, it would be photography. Not that he really had anything worth taking pictures of currently, but he hoped one day he would have a reason to take his camera out more often. He was in the photography club at school, and that did give him some excuses to use it, but mostly he only took it out once in a while to fiddle with it.

  When the inevitable time came to go to the hospital, Josh hauled himself up from his bed, gathered his things and left their townhouse. He was only working for three hours that night, but he had a four hour shift on both Saturday and Sunday.

  The university hospital, where his dad worked, was closer to his house, but Josh wanted to branch out a little, so he drove across town to St. Raphael’s.

  As he parked his car and walked up to the building, he noticed a group of people, near his own age, hurrying toward the emergency entrance. Several of them were in some kind of sports uniform. Unfortunately that kind of thing happened frequently; people got injured all the time from sporting events.

  Josh had never been into sports. He’d tried most of the popular sports growing up, but never really found anything that he loved and wanted to pursue. His dad had even offered to sign him up for music lessons at one point, either piano or guitar, just so he would have something to do, or to show off and talk about with friends. It wasn’t until his grandma had given him an old camera of hers when he was ten, that he’d found something he really liked. He’d upgraded several times since then. He even had a fun collection of photo albums, that his grandma helped him compile, showing all of his photos over the years.

  Whatever the case, Josh hoped whoever it was that was injured was doing alright. All the people rushing in looked pretty concerned and Josh liked that the patient would have family and friends there to lend support.

  Making his way over to the volunteer desk, Josh greeted Angel and got his first assignment of the night.

  ~

  Josh’s shift passed slowly. The most interesting thing that happened as he delivered flowers, brought and removed dinner dishes, and removed soiled linens, was hearing the news traveling around about a teenage boy who had been injured during a baseball game. The report only slightly piqued Josh’s interest, since he’d seen the probable teammates arriving earlier. Apparently there had been quite the crowd in the emergency waiting room.

  As nine o’clock finally wound around, Josh checked out at the front desk and made his way home for the night.

  “Hey, Josh,” his dad called out as he came in from the garage.

  Josh set his things on the counter. “Hi, Dad. I’ll be right there,” he called back as he grabbed a soda from the fridge.

  He met his dad on the sofa in their den and popped the top on his drink before looking up to see what his dad had on TV.

  “How was your day?” his dad asked, muting his program about crime scenes or something.

  Taking a sip of his soda, Josh groaned a little. “All in all not terrible, I guess. School was boring and all anyone wanted to talk about was prom tomorrow, so that sucked. Then the hospital was boring. The only saving grace there was the news of some kid getting hurt during a baseball game and all his teammates were apparently crowding out the waiting room. Which was only slightly more interesting a Friday night than usual. You?” Josh questioned.

  His dad laughed. “Josh, I know we discussed you getting in volunteer hours, but you are allowed to have a Friday night to yourself, you know. You’re a senior for God sakes. You’re supposed to live for Friday nights before you graduate. You don’t have to spend them all at the hospital,” he said and bumped his knee into Josh’s. “And I’m sorry about all the prom talk. I know that can’t be easy to hear. I know how much you wanted to go and how much you wish you had a boyfriend. I’m sorry you’ve been so lonely at school. Part of all high school experiences should include dating and going to dances, getting your heart broken and discovering first love. It’s been a tough go around for you, but you only have a few more weeks until it’s over. Have you thought at all about where you might apply for a summer job? Maybe you can try to work someplace gay-friendly and finally find yourself a nice guy to date. I’d love to see you happy for a change.”

  Josh felt a little bad about dumping his problems on his dad. After all, his dad worked hard for both of them and he hadn’t had anyone to share his life with either. Constantly dealing with a moody teenager must be quite a challenge.

  “I haven’t really thought about it much, I guess,” Josh admitted. “Maybe just a coffee shop or something. I’ll be the creepy guy who writes his phone number on the little cardboard sleeves of every guy I think might be gay, hoping someone will take pity on him and call.”

  His dad laughed at his dramatics. “Josh, you are not that desperate. You’re a young, good looking guy, who just happens to go to school at a place where choices are slim. Once you’re out working and going to school, you’ll find someone, or hopefully lots of someones to date. You just have to broaden your horizons a bit and stop spending every Friday night at the hospital.” His dad poked at him and Josh poked him back.

  “I know. It just sucks right now. Maybe once I’m done with school and save up a little money working, I’ll move out, and you can finally start dating, too,” Josh said, nudging his father that time.

  Some look Josh didn’t understand crossed his father’s face and his dad sighed. “It’s not that easy, Josh. Someday soon you’ll understand, and hopefully things will work out differently for you than they have for me. But for now, loosen up a bit and enjoy being young. You have you’re whole life to be boring and stodgy like me.” His dad patted him on the knee and rose from the couch. “Watch whatever you like, I’m going to head off to bed, and maybe read for a bit. What time are you going in tomorrow?”

  “Ten to two both days.”

  “Alright. Well, maybe go out tomorrow night. I know it’s prom night and everyone else is busy, but even just a movie or something, might help take your mind off your boy troubles,” his dad said, with a wink.

  Josh grumbled. “Lack of boy troubles, you mean. We’ll see. Maybe I’ll be desperate enough to go out alone.”

  “Don’t stress too much, Josh. When it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen. I know it sounds placating right now, but you’re young. You’re not even eighteen yet. Give it time.” With
that his father left the room, and Josh flipped through the channels, trying to find some action flick that would take his mind off his sorry state.

  -II-

  When Josh woke up Saturday morning, he had a minor pity party in his bed as he scrolled his social media accounts. Everyone was already busy with their days preparations for their prom that night, and Josh couldn’t help the pang of longing that went through him. He sighed and threw off his covers. There was no sense in wallowing, so he went to the kitchen in search of breakfast.

  “Morning,” his dad said from their kitchen table as he looked at the paper with a cup of coffee.

  “Morning,” Josh groused.

  His dad folded his paper back and watched Josh as he opened first one cupboard, then another. Huffing when he didn’t see the cereal he liked, Josh moved to grab a glass for some juice instead. The universe, however, had other plans for him because as he peered into the fridge he realized they were out of juice as well.

  “This day is already trying to stick it to me, huh? No cereal, no juice. I think I’m just going to crawl back into bed and sleep the day away. If I start now I can just sleep until tomorrow. There has to be some record I can break for staying in bed the latest ever,” Josh grumbled as he passed his father.

  “Josh?” his dad stopped him.

  “Let me guess, stop feeling sorry for yourself, things could always be worse?” he clipped. “Or is it gonna be, you don’t need to be so dramatic, think of all the people who are suffering around the world. Just let me sulk, Dad. I have to be in the hospital in couple of hours and then I have to play nice. I don’t feel like playing nice for you too,” Josh grumbled.

  “Are you done yet?” his dad asked patiently. “I was going to offer to take you to breakfast since I know we’re out of a lot of things. I thought it might cheer you up before you have to deal with the rest of your day. Do you think you can stop sulking long enough to go have breakfast with your old man?”