10 Days [Brallon]

Cheesy Romantics

[new story or nah]

I don't know what was up with that boy and midnight.

Not that I was sleeping whenever he called me from the sidewalk, because I wasn't, but it was just so inconveniently convenient that I always accepted the invitation to whatever I was about to be dragged into heart first. He woke me up at midnight standing under my bedroom window so many times I couldn't count them on my fingers anymore.

Brendon opened the passenger door to his car for me before sliding into the drivers seat and revving the engine.

"I never introduced you," he beamed proudly, tapping the steering wheel with one finger "this is my car. It's a 1969 matte black Chevrolet Chevelle SS."

[in case you're wondering:]

It was a nice car. Like, a really nice car. Call me biased, but I believe mine was a little better. Just a tiny bit.

"Why haven't you showed me before?"

Brendon shrugged and the car lurched forward, drifting smoothly down the street and through a turn with an undetermined destination. "Got dirty, had to send it in to get cleaned properly."

"Dirty? If you didn't use a car like this something awful must've happened-"

"Ryan used it to fry eggs when it was really hot that one time over summer last year." He said, words stumbling over words as we jolted to a stop at a sign before gliding along again.

That was valid. I'd be freaked out too. But last year? Granted it was only February, but summer had been at the least 6 or 7 months ago. Yikes.

The streetlights washed everything in awkward oranges until Brendon swerved right, towards the outskirts of town.

Now this stupid little town was in the middle of nowhere. It's not some fancy ass town right next to like New York City or Chicago. It's next to a small forest which just leads to mountains set right before a decently clean coastline. Nothing else along the roads of said mountains for miles - someone could drive all day only to reach a sign that says the next place to catch a breath is 100 miles away. The only other mildly decent civilization close to us is an hour long drive in the opposite direction. Which leads me to believe both of us are absolutely insane to be living out in a shitty ghost town that's not actually a ghost town but an exaggeration.

Brendon answered my own questions as he spun to the left in almost a U-Turn, taking us down a path only visible from the absence of trees and bushes, "Did I ever tell you why I moved out here?"

"Enlighten me, rich boy."

He cleared his throat, pushing the nickname aside, and slowed down through a scarce patch of towering redwood trees. "I was searching for an Ipomoea flower-"

"Affection, love,-"

"I know what they mean. I was hoping I could find some and it'd be... a sign, y'know? Like if I were to track some down I would find someone - something at the least. I had everything I could ever want except for something as simple as that. No matter where I looked, I couldn't find any and neither could anybody else. Of course there was the option to order a couple from somebody but I wanted to find them myself."