I Love You Brother

"Dating"

Our relationship didn't consist of many words, Evan and I. We just knew each other with a look or a feeling when we touched. It was like magic. When people try to tell me that no such thing exists, I show them an old scar on my hand and tell them, "Thats from touching a boy in high school". That scar appeared when I fell on the train tracks one blazing, hot day. 

Evan and I were walking around the woods and stumbled across some old train tracks. When I saw them, I ran like a little kid to walk on the sides that stood firm. Evan followed me, saying their hasn't been a train on these tracks in years. While he was talking, I heard a loud sound. My heart raced and I jumped in the muggy air out of sheer surprise. 

"A train is coming!" I cried. I quickly grabbed Evan's hand and hopped to the other side of the tracks. Why I had to go to the other side I don't know. My foot slipped on the metal surface. I fell on my face, to say the least. My face planted in the tiny pebbles along a train's old path. Evan came quickly behind me and picked me up.

"You alright?" he asked. I could tell he was trying not to laugh, I was trying not to laugh too. We both looked into each other's eyes for a moment to read what they were saying. I saw a fire, burning, and a smile that wanted to come out and laugh aloud. In an instant we were both laughing so hard, we couldn't stand back up.

A train never came. It was a truck from a nearby street. And out of all that, I only got a little scar on my hand from the feeble pebbles in that wood. The story was never forgotten between Evan and I. He liked to bring it up during dinner dates when we would start laughing so much we couldn't stop. Once I shot food out of my nose. I barried my face in my napkin and couldn't look at him for a good ten minutes. Everytime I got embarrassed, he laughed, but then stopped. He just stared at me. Smiling. One time I was sick of him staring, so I leaned over and pushed his smooth cheek to the side so he was staring at the wall.

"Stop looking at me like that," I would tell him. He would show off his half grin on the edge of his face and say one word.

"No."

Those memories were the only things that made me want to go back home after I moved out. The parties we went to, the dancing, the laughing, sometimes we drove around in his car for hours just so we could listen to our favorite music. Almost every single song we liked was blasted that night along the hot, muggy, dirt roads. I could feel it. I knew I loved him. It took me awhile to realize it, but I finally knew. 

We were at church, sitting on the pews. My mother couldn't attend anymore, so I rode with Evan every Sunday. He told me his dad never came because he didn't have time to sit around in a hot building listening to a man scream about the Bible. Evan loved church. He loved God. We talked about that a few times. I had never been that close to God, Evan has. He still is, I believe. The way he talked about his faith was inspiring and made me want what he had. His eyes gleamed everytime I brought up the topic. I knew that this something he had, made me draw nearer to him. 

I took a small piece of paper from my thin notebook and scribbled down "I Love You". Slipped it into Evan's pocket and focused my eyes back to the preacher. When he tried to reach down and read it, I stopped him.

"Read it tonight," I whispered in his ear. 

"But now I'll be thinking about it all day," he whispered back.

"I know," I answered. 

The service was over, and I could see Evan trying to sneak a peak at my note in the car.

"Stop it!" I said. "You have to wait until later." Then I turned up the radio and started bobbing my head obnoxiously to make him more anxious. I laughed when he sat still in the driver's seat. 

"You have to tell me now!" he suddenly exclaimed. I shook my head, and kept grooving to the music.

"Seriously, I can't not know!" he cried. 

"Uh-uh!" I said with a laugh. "You're going to wait!" 

At lunch, Evan sat with his arms folded, and his eyes glued to the ceiling fan. We stopped by a local diner for hamburgers like we liked to do on Friday nights. 

"I'm not talking to you until you tell me what this says," he said. I laughed at how much he sounded like a baby. 

"Okay, it's not like we've been talking at all for the past 15 minutes!" I said. 

The reason I always think of this story, and am writing it now, is because it explains how things played out in the future. Keep this story in mind. I forgot when it came time to remember it. 

Evan pulled up to my driveway that night and turned the truck off. He looked over at me and stared. 

"Read it," I said. Then got out of the car and started walking to the door. My feet hit the gravel under the starry night. Then I jumped at the sound of a car horn. I quickly turned around and was surprised to see he had run over right beside me. 

"I love you," he said. Then he leaned down and kissed my cheek. Took my hand, and just stood there beaming. "I so wanted to say that first!"

I laughed. The blush on my cheeks felt like they were on fire. 

"Goodnight," I cooed. He kissed me once more on my lips, and I went inside.