Not Another High School Love Story

13. A Night Like Any Other

"Jesus, I'm not the lightweight here. Lead the way." He holds out his hand to spur me on, and I give him an eye roll as I head out to the sidewalk. His feet are a bit sluggish so I make sure to go a little slower even though he keeps his balance just fine beside me.

"So, how'd you do on your exams?" The last thing on my mind is school, but I choose to make small talk because I don't think he'd like the things I really want to ask.

"That's what you want to talk about, fucking exams? Don't worry, you did your part, I passed. I don't think I'd be celebrating much if I didn't." If only he knew how dangerously close he danced near the edge. Our path leads to the park by my house, and we go to sit beneath the shelter of the sprawling tree closest to us. The whole time Brent keeps telling me about the game, and even though I don't like football I'm enamored with how he shines when he talks about it. It's so exciting for him, he's really passionate about it, and I listen in a quiet awe while we stare up through the leaves to the night sky.

"I'm glad you won, but maybe you should find a different way to celebrate." I wait until he's finished with his tale to speak. We're shoulder to shoulder, and his face is incredibly close to mine when he turns to gaze at me. "Aren't you worried about your dad?"

"Don't worry about it, he's out of town right now." His reassurance does nothing to dispel my concern, I'll never be able to forget what it was like last time. The bruises are finally gone and once again he's next to perfect, but it was never the marks on his angel face that killed me, it was what it did to him where no one else could see. No one but me anyway. He's a master of hiding it by now, and he deflects. "What about your dad? I didn't see the car in the driveway."

"I'm not sure where he went, he must've left while I was sleeping. We had a fight, that seems like all we've been doing lately." I'm not sure why I'm telling him what happened, but I don't regret it.

"That sucks, man. I know how it goes, but at least we won't have to deal with it for long."

"I can't wait to leave this fucking town behind. What about you, what are you going to do when we graduate?"

"The hell if I know. I was thinking I might try to go to college right here close to home though, there are some pretty decent football programs I could probably get into. Other than that I don't know. See, that's the thing no one tells you, no matter how much shit they try to teach us, we're still just as fucking clueless in the end." Brent squeezes his eyes shut as he rests his head against the tree. For a brief second I think he's finished, but he has one more confession. "I hate thinking about it. I guess you were right, I am a fucking coward."

"No you're not." It's a lie. When it's all said and done we're even more alike than I thought, so I can't really judge him. What he doesn't realize is that I'm a coward too. "I don't know what I'm going to do either."

"You? Don't be stupid, you've got plenty of options. You're probably going to rule the whole goddamn world one day, you can have whatever you want." It almost sounds like a compliment.

"Well what do you want?" It's my turn to deflect, and I ask a question that I already know the answer to. His expression proves that he hasn't forgotten what he said to me before, and we both remember that night at the party. He'd asked me then if I was happy, and I said I was, but I don't think I was being honest with him. I don't think I was being honest with myself. Now it seems that he and I want the same thing, and even though it should be easy neither of us have figured out how to make it happen. It's an impasse that we don't know how to get around, so he changes the subject instead.

We go back to talking about other things that last for hours, and even when the first light starts to creep onto the horizon I can't tell him to stop. We talk about movies and friends and school. We talk about life, our hopes, and the stars. We talk about so many things that it's hard to keep track, and by the time it's over it feels like I understand him better than I do myself, and everything has changed. This night has been like any other, I don't know why it seems so different, but I'm desperate for just a few more minutes when he finally stands up and yawns.

"I should get home." Brent suggests, stumbling a bit before catching himself on the tree. I'm not sure if it's from the alcohol or fatigue, but either way I stand to help balance him.

"You don't look so good, I don't think you should be alone." It's innocent enough, but my heart still pounds as I work up the nerve to make him an offer. "Why don't you come back to my house, you can sleep it off there."

"That's probably a good idea. You sure it's fine?" He asks, and I'm just grateful he doesn't make a crack about me trying to seduce him. His arm feels comfortable when he puts it over my shoulder, and together we start back the way we came. I already know he's got enough support, but I seize the opportunity to hold him around his waist while we walk. The muscles in his stomach are defined enough that I can feel them through his shirt, and I pray he doesn't realize what I'm up to. If he does he keeps it to himself, and the trek back remains quiet until we arrive at the house and see my dad's car.

I leave Brent waiting at the end of the drive as I sneak up onto the porch to unlock the door, and once I'm inside I check to make sure my dad isn't waiting up for me. He's not, so I go back to retrieve Brent as I try to guide him up the stairs, but he's a little louder than I'd like. Finally we manage to get to my room, and as soon as we're in I twist the lock and breathe a sigh of relief. Brent continues forward without me and rolls onto the bed, smacking his lips in contentment.

"Well let's get your shoes off at least." I don't need to cater to him, but I want to, and I sit at the end of the mattress as I undo the laces and pull off his sneakers. "You know, you should probably lay off the drinking, I don't think it's good for you."

"Fuck, I've just been so stressed lately." He sits up effortlessly with those strong stomach muscles, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "You don't know what it's like with my dad, and trying to get my grades up, and all that shit. Plus we've got the state conference in less than a month, and Madison's already bitching about prom, it's insane."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me, but if she's stressing you out then maybe you should try talking to her about it." Jealousy hits me hard again when he mentions her, even though I know he doesn't mean anything by it. I guess that's what it is, right? Jealously? Why else do I get that sinking feeling when he kisses her? It's hard to believe she has anything I could possibly want, but he's sitting right in front of me. That just raises another question though, and I barely look at him while I pose it. "She probably would've wanted to celebrate with you, why didn't you go to her window?"

"You know why." Brent wastes no time responding, and he stares at me hard. Intoxication has made him brave, brave enough to come here and say that, but I don't have the same advantage. My bravery is all my own when I choose to face him head on, and when I do he leans in to kiss me again. For once my brain is quicker, and I put my open palm on his chest to stop him. I can feel how quickly his heart is beating when I push him flat on his back, and he doesn't try to fight me.

"You're drunk. Get some sleep." God, do I want to kiss him. Not like this though, not when he has to drink to get the nerve, and not when he probably won't even remember tomorrow. He doesn't seem offended by my rejection, but he's probably so confident that he already knows why I did it, so he just laughs to himself. I know he's not trying to be cruel, but it's not funny to me. Everyone loves him, and I'm sure he's had his share, but this is all new to me. No one's ever wanted to kiss me, and nobody's ever made me feel the way he does.

When I glance over at him I see that he's already asleep, and again I feel like I might be torn in two, but it's not from anger this time. I trace the outline of his perfect face in fear that I might somehow forget it, but I never could—he's so beautiful. And I know this could just turn out to be something tragic because it's not like I can ever have him, but it's already gone too far and I don't think it can be stopped. I tried my best, I really did, I swore I wouldn't be like any of those stupid girls at school, but no matter how much I want to deny it I can't lie to myself anymore. I don't know what'll happen tomorrow, but right now, in this moment, I realize I'm completely falling for Brent Fox.