Til Death Do Us Part || Tate Langdon

truth or dare

2013, third grade

      It was Tate's last year in the elementary classroom, next year he'd move up to the middle school classroom in 5th grade. You two had become best friends in the last two years, and sat together on the bus every day. Other kids still refused to give him a chance. You were guilty by association, but still managed to hang out sometimes with two pretty girls in our class, Mariah and Oren. They both had orange hair, and you thought that made them cool; you envied them for it. As the teachers called for recess one day, you used the restroom quickly before heading out. Once you got outside, you looked under the slide for Tate-- but he wasn't there.

      Your eyes darted around the playground, and landed on twin redheads a few yards away cornering your horrified, cowering best friend. He sat crouched on his feet, gripping handfuls of his own hair while they taunted him from above. Personally insulted and ready to defend him, you began marching angrily toward the trio. You stopped in your tracks a few feet away when Tate stood suddenly, and with all his might pushed Mariah to the ground. She let out a wail for the teacher as Tate ran the opposite direction, and kept going even outside of the playground's limitations.

   You approached the screaming girl and who you thought was your mutual friend. "What did you do!" you demanded.

   "We were just messing with him, we thought he'd laugh," Oren defended.

   "Has he ever laughed at something like that?" you asked them accusingly. A teacher was trotting over at that point to check on the crying girl next to you. "What were you saying?"

   "W-We were just trying to get him to admit something," Oren sniffled. "It was for you, really. And we were right anyways."

   You shook your head briskly and turned your palms up waiting for her to explain, and she did just as the teacher got to us. "Tate said he likes you."

   The next day, he missed school.

And the one after that, he showed up with a busted lip; the two of you didn't talk the whole day.

2018, eighth grade

      Despite being in separate classrooms, you and Tate were the closest you'd ever been. You two still sat on the bus together every day, saw each other through each phase of entering your awkward teen years, and you'd even gotten him a pass to come to Delaney Powell's 15th birthday party tonight. This was probably only because her older sister, Brielle, had a crush on him, which should've been lame considering she was 17 and Tate was 15. Because she was so drooled over by every guy at school, she could do no wrong and no one batted an eye at it. He knew that for some reason she liked him, but he never seemed to reciprocate those feelings.

   "Why do you even wanna go to this?" He nervously asked you after you knocked on the door. "None of these people get us."

   "How could they if they don't know us?" you countered. "Just give 'em a chance, they'll get to like you just as fast as I did."

   He mumbled anxiously then stiffened when Delaney opened the door. She had on a skin tight, knee length olive green dress and a rose gold party hat. "You came!" She hugged you like you'd been friends forever. "Hey Tate. Bree will be happy to see you."

   "Yippee," he whispered only to you as you guys entered the house, and you stifled a giggle. You and Tate followed Delaney down the hall and into her huge, open living room, and there were kids spread over the furniture, plastic cups in most of their hands. The room had wood panel walls, a leftover from the 90's you assumed, and family photos covered a good portion of them. A flat screen was mounted to the wall and playing some throwback R&B mix she'd found.

   "Where's your mom?" you asked. Everyone knew her and Brielle's dad wasn't around, so you made sure to not mistakenly say 'parents'.

   "Giving me space," she beamed, and headed to the kitchen with you and Tate behind her. "She said she wants my 15th birthday to be as fun as hers was, so she left for a few hours."

   You complimented her mother's coolness and led Tate back to the living room, where he pressed his back to the wall and stuck close by you. "I don't like crowds," he said. "I feel like they're all judging me."

   "Nobody's judging you," you assured him. "Look around, they're all in their own little worlds."

   And they were: guys were trying their best to flirt with the giggling girls, the music was loud enough to let you guys talk comfortably, and most people's attention were on Delaney anyway.

   "Are you sure this is a middle school party?" he asked. "That kid over there's gotta be 17."

   You shrugged and chuckled, "Who cares? Maybe you'll meet someone." You playfully winked at him and he contorted his face to mock you. Soon, Brielle was half way down the steps, then stopped for dramatic affect.

      All the guys went quiet and turned their attention to her. She was a 17-year-old Megan Fox knock off; her hot pink, low cut dress looked painted onto her, and her long black hair sat perfectly on her narrow shoulders. You felt a pang of jealousy, no, insecurity when you noticed Tate also looking at her. You looked to Delaney who suddenly looked like a lost puppy. She slouched in her seat where everyone had just been giving her birthday congrats and wishes, now abandoned as her sister stole the show. You got a feeling this wasn't a rare occasion.

   Brielle's eyes landed on Tate, and she announced to the crowd, "I want to play truth or dare."