On Friday, he sits down next to me and I turn to smile at him while my body bristles with pleasure because he is next to me. Before we can say anything to each other, one of the guys catches his attention and they start up talking. I content myself with the fact that we are sitting right next to each other and the entirety of our sides are against one another.
Eventually, I hear Becca's voice off to the side while she is sitting next to her partner in crime, Danny. I cringe as I realize that she is talking to me. My teeth sink into the side of my mouth as her voice carries up the table to me.
"Wait, so hey Laina, if you and Alessa are Bi does that mean if we combine you two we can get one whole straight and one whole gay? And also if that is the case does that mean that we can also get one whole Black and then a mixed Asian?" She laughs as if she is the funniest person in the world and a couple of others do too.
My eyes roll and I make no attempt to hide it. I am so tired of these kinds of jokes. As if I am not already a whole person. It is bad enough when I am struggling to figure it out, I do not need others poking fun at it too. I am also annoyed that they brought Alessa into it. She is mixed like I am except she is Filipino and Black; she is also bisexual like I am. I struggle enough with feeling like a person outside of her and things like this confirm my fears that I really am not my own person.
I sigh loudly and look down the table at her, "that's not how it works Becca." I can hear the venom in my own voice.
"I don't know man, what does a hybrid really know," Danny's lazy voice drags.
I try to calm the shaking I can feel coming on as I open my mouth to speak. The last thing I need is them making fun of my wavering voice too. Except I do not have to. I feel Brendon shift next to me as we swivels his attention to the two of them.
"You two are ones to talk. Literally all you do is eat each other's faces and when you're not doing that, you're spewing shit out of your mouth together. Like right now."
I feel a grin spread across my face as a laugh bubbles from my surprised lips. As others start to laugh and make their own responses, I feel Brendon lean his body heavier against my side. I look up at him and his face is split by a grin. His eyes are sparkling and I can tell that he is proud of himself.
"Thank you," I say low and gently, just to him.
He does not say anything back, he just keeps my eyes as his hand rests on my wrist in my lap and squeezes in his silent response. Even when he removes it, I can still feel the tingle.
After the excitement has died down and we all move on from the event, Brendon puts his full focus on me. "Come over today?"
I find my teeth guiding themselves to my lip. It is Friday so there is a chance that Alessa will be coming home with me and it is also not an early release day for me. Going over to his place today feels a little weird: more planned as opposed to us ending up together because neither of us have anything to do. The thought that he wants to hang out with me, and would wait the nearly two hours of school that I have left, when he could spend his early release going out with his friends warms my heart. Though it does occur to me that he could always do something in those two hours and then be with me.
There is also the reality that something a little too close happened the other day, especially after spending all that time with his girlfriend. Even with all of that, I cannot stop myself from saying yes just to see that sweet little smile spread across his soft face. After that moment passes, he, Mads, and I find ourselves in a conversation that fills the rest of the lunch period. And when I get up to go to class, Brendon walks with me. I revel in the few moments I have before having to sit through my last class. Like the last time, I watch him go. As I sit down in my seat, I push Brendon from my mind and focus in on putting all of my attention on my teacher so that I can make the most of the period.
As soon as the bell rings, my hands go into motion as they pack my backpack. I make it down to my car before Alessa does and force myself to not feel impatient as I gaze at my phone and scroll through my music, trying to decide what I am in the mood for. Just as I decide, she slides into my car and starts telling me a story. It lasts the entire car ride, and as I am pulling up to her house I realize that I had not even asked her if she wanted to go home or not. I can tell that she is a little thrown that I did not immediately bring her to my house like I usually do. She takes it good naturedly while she leans over to hug me goodbye and tells me that she loves me.
As I watch her walk into her house, I try to push down the sick feeling in my stomach telling me that I have done something wrong and that I have somehow managed to ruin our entire relationship with this one action. Gently, I do my best to reassure the anxious voice in my mind that ten years of friendship will not see its end just because of this. My voice of anxiety is a worrisome little thing.
I push my thoughts away while I walk up to Brendon's door and try the handle to see if he has left it unlocked for me. The door swings open slowly, and I can hear movement in the kitchen so that is where I head. I am pleasantly surprised to see Brendon's mother with her long brown hair tied into a knot on top of her head. Her eyes crinkle as her mouth lifts into a smile at me.
"Hello honey, how are you?"
"I'm okay, thank you for asking. What about you?" I return as I take a few steps over to the counter so that I can lean against it and use it to help me support the books in my arms.
"Oh, I'm just great, honey, Brendon's father and I are going to some friends tonight so that should be fun. What are those?" she asks, referring to the books in my arms, "studying on a Friday. My dear you must be a good influence on our Brendon."
I laugh and try to ignore the embarrassment creeping through my chest at the compliment, "thanks," is all I can say.
After a couple of more moments of trading small talk, I excuse myself and trod up the stairs to Brendon's room. His door is open and he is laying on his bed not really moving. As I get closer, I can see that he is sleeping. The gentle rise and fall of his chest and his soft, relaxed face slows my steps as I stay quiet to avoid waking him. As I put my stuff down on his desk and sit myself in his chair, I find myself biting my lip and taking him in. He just looks so precious and I want to touch the curve of his lips, the tip of his nose, brush my fingers through his hair, and so much more; but I stay planted in my seat instead, admiring him from afar. Eventually, I turn in the chair and open the assignments that I brought with me.
About a half an hour later, I hear him start to stir off to my side. I do not turn to look at him, allowing him a few moments of privacy and quiet as he wakes up and orients himself. He groans as he stretches and I have to stifle a laugh, because he sounds so cute. The bed shifts as he rolls over to face me, so I finally look over at him and all his glorious bed head. His eyes are only really half open as he looks at me and smiles, like waking up to me is the most normal thing in the world. And then it sets in and I can see it in his eyes.
"Laina, shit. I'm sorry. What time is it? How long have you been here? How long have I been asleep. I'm sorry," he starts rambling.
"Brendon, please, it's not a big deal. Besides, you're adorable when you sleep and it isn't like I haven't knocked out on you," I reassure him.
"That was different," he says. "Man, I thought that I had set an alarm, just in case."
I hide my smile behind my hand as I look at his upset face and my heart warms at how concerned he is about this.
"You should have just woken me up," he tells me as he sighs and scoots to the edge of the bed and closer to me. "What are you doing?" He asks and he sounds generally perplexed.
"Just some homework," I tell him and I have barely finished the statement when he starts.
"Alaina, it's Friday, why the fuck are you doing homework right now?"
I laugh at him as I reply, "I decided that if I am spending so much time over here with you, I should try to get some shit done."
He shakes with head with exasperation as he slides off to the bed and comes over to me. "No, not today. Come on smarty pants, relax. Live a little."
While he pulls my pencil from my hand, his other hand swivels the chair to face him instead of the desk.
"But, I have homework," I complain.
"You have an entire weekend. Today you are going to hang out with me."
"I'm sure you have homework too," I try to reason, "we can do it together."
He snorts as he grips my wrist and pulls me up, "that's funny."
"No, I'm serious. Let's study together."
"We have like no classes together, " he reminds me.
"So. Please Brendon," I say it as sweet as possible and when he stops and looks at me with consideration I know I have gotten somewhere.
He breathes out and then his lips purse before he finally says, "fine okay. We can on Sunday. That's homework day anyway, but today, no homework. Deal?" he pokes my nose.
I do not stop the grin from spreading across my face, "Deal."
He looks at me for a few more moments and then rolls his eyes as he turns away from me, but I do not miss the small smile that curves his lips. As he treks into the bathroom, I begin to put my stuff away into my backpack. By the time he is out, his mom is yelling for us to come down and I am all finished. He looks at me, theatrically rolls his eyes, and then starts the trek out of the room and down the stairs. I follow behind him, laughing at his feigned attitude. I know he is not actually annoyed, when it comes to his mother he almost never is.
As we enter into the kitchen, she turns on us with a big pleading smile. He tries to keep a straight face but I can see him trying to fight a smile, and his mom can see it too, "What do you want Mom?" he attempts a sullen tone.
She lightly hits his shoulder and then puts her arms around him, "Oh stop it. I was just going to ask if you guys would maybe want to do old Mom a big favor and bake some cookies for me," as she says this, she looks over at me because she really is not asking Brendon. She knows that he will do it if she wants him to.
I smile at her and nod, and then I turn to Brendon to see him trying to work up his moody teenager response. Before he can even get there, she exclaims happily and plants a big kiss on his cheek while she thanks us and then flits from the room. He watches her go, shaking his head and smiling.
"You love her," I poke his chest.
"Yeah, yeah, come on let's get to baking."
It is fun maneuvering around the kitchen with Brendon and eventually he puts on some music, so half of the time I am too distracted watching him dance around to actually be of much help. He does not get mad at me though, he just goofs around even more in his attempts to make me laugh. It really is endearing.
Once we have stuck them in the oven, we plop down on the couch to wait for them to bake. After he flips on the TV and leaves it on the music video channel I cannot help, but laugh because it is pretty much all that I watch when I turn on TV too. When I say that out loud he laughs a little, too and then says that he is not surprised when it comes to me. I am not sure why, but it makes me happy; it makes me feel like he knows me and sometimes that is all I want from someone, because I never feel like I know myself. We are quiet for a few minutes and then he shifts closer and tells me to scoot back towards him. A little perplexed, I do what he asks me. I can feel his hands hovering over my shoulders and I am confused about what he is doing, or what he is going to do.
"Can I touch you?" He asks me, and as the question hangs awkwardly in the air, he rethinks how to phrase that. "Sorry that was creepy, I was just gonna give you a massage."
I laugh as my shoulders relax and I can hear the relief in his laugh. I am not sure what it is about the way he asks my permission for just about everything, but it makes me feel safe and happy. It makes me feel comfortable. He stays posed waiting for my decision, and when I finally do say yes, he gently puts his hands on my shoulders to give me a little squeeze before going to work.
His hands feel good on me and I do my best to keep focused on the TV instead the ways his fingers probe me or the way that my body is coming alive. My heart is rushing blood through my body as my all of my nerves are shooting off, giving me a warm satisfied feeling. It just feels good. I never want him to stop touching me. I hear myself let out a contented sigh that drips into a little bit of a moan, and my body tenses as my teeth clamp down on my lip.
Out of nowhere, he is next to my ear, "You're really tight," my heart skyrockets into my throat and stays lumped there, "you have a lot of knots, you're just so tense."
His low voice leaves my mouth dry. I cannot open my mouth. I have no idea what to even say. My body is so hot and I have no idea how to control it at this point. His hands are still moving, still working on me and they are all I can think about. And all I can feel, while his voice is all I can hear playing over and over again. Vaguely, I am away that I am breathing a little too shallow and my teeth are still sinking into my lip.
And then the buzzer on the oven goes off, making me nearly jump out of my skin and off of the couch. Brendon's hands shoot away from me as he stands up in a shock of his own. I turn to look at him, but neither of us say a thing. It is like we have been snapped out of a fantasy. The buzzer goes off again and he flits off to go check on them. As soon as he is out of the room, I bury my face in my hands in hopes of calming myself down and making sense of my racing thoughts.
After a while, he still has not come back and I feel anxiety creep through my veins, slow and syrupy. I force myself to take a few deep breaths before letting myself spin out of control. On the couch, I close my eyes and force myself to count to ten, imagining the numbers popping up in my head, and then I stand up. Slowly, I make my way towards the kitchen and stop just before I enter it. I take a minute to look in and what I see is Brendon with his hands gripping the countertop edge, staring at it like it is going to give him some answers. He already took the cookies out and I can smell the warm scent drifting out of the kitchen as I watch steam rise from them.
I can only look at him like that for so long, before I feel my stomach twisting violently. To alert him off my presence, I make an effort to make noise as I walk the rest of the ways into the kitchen. He straightens out quickly and a smile immediately splashes across his face. It is a real big, bright one too. Gently, I offer a much smaller, dimmer version of my own.
"They look good," I comment just to break the tension.
"Yeah, Mom totally owes us for this. All this work and I do not even get to eat them."
I roll my eyes as I laugh at him and lean against the countertop. Before either of us can say something else, his mother comes into the kitchen and is delighted with our work. She thanks us profusely and wraps Brendon up in a hug, peppering with kisses as he fruitlessly tries to fend her off. She does not let me go unnoticed, though, because she pulls me into a hug as well and gives me a big squeeze. After she thanks us a couple of more times, we retreat back to his room and for the most part the awkwardness has dissipated between us, much to my relief. Or so I thought.
As I sit on his bed, he plops on his desk chair and starts to tap away on his phone. I do my best to not blow everything out of proportion and assume that he hates me. I sit there wondering if I should tell him I am leaving so that he does not have to ask me to. My teeth are sinking into my tongue and I cannot keep myself from biting it nervously. My hands are going at each other, too, and I beg myself to calm down. I try a few deep breathes with no success. And then, he puts his phone down and looks up at me with a calm and content expression that throws me off because I had convinced myself so well that he was angry or annoyed with me, or both.
His face drops a little as he notices my quiet panicking, "Laina?" He pushes himself forward and next to me in his chair. "What's up? What's wrong?"
I see him hesitate and then stop himself as he begins to reach forward for my hand. "I'm sorry," I tell him and it sounds so breathy and shaky that I can feel the embarrassment creeping up my neck.
This time he does take my hands, "hey, it's okay, you have nothing to be sorry for, it's okay. I promise," he is looking so intently at me that my mind feels a little fuzzy, "please, relax, for me."
I keep my mouth closed and nod as I will myself to calm down. It is hard reassuring the anxious little voice in my head that he is not mad at me and that everything is okay, but eventually she recedes from the forefront of my thoughts. My mouth tugs up in a lazy half smile and before I can stop myself, "Sorry," slips from my lips.
He laughs with exasperation and shakes his head a little, "no need to apologize."
I find myself focusing in on his hands again. The way that they are warm and mold around mine. They are just the right amount of strong and gentle. They hold my hands the way he holds my heart and I am so ashamed to say so; but I am so thankful for them, for him. He is someone I lean on and he never complains that I am too heavy.
I feel my lower lip quiver and his eyes flit to it before returning back to my eyes just as quick, "thank you," I say and my voice is just barely above a whisper.
"Of course, anytime," he says quickly with conviction and my heart thumps happily.
Only another moment or two passes before he takes his hands from me and pushes back a little in his chair. He is smiling really big again and he starts to stand up from his chair. As he pulls his shoes on, he looks at me and tells me to come on. When I ask him about what we are doing or where we are going, he just tells me that it is a surprise and that I will like it. I do not question him further, because chances are that no matter what we do I will have fun since I am with him.