Page 31 of The Beginning and End of Everything
Brandon sat up and scooted beside me. His warm breath touched my shoulder. “Whatcha reading?” The smell of soap and sweat that was all Brandon invaded my space just before I caught a subtle hint of vanilla body spray.
I swallowed while my stomach turned. Lisa had even ruined the way he smelled.“Frankenstein,” I managed.
“Cool.” He reclined back on the pillow next to me. “You know I’m not going anywhere until you forgive me for whatever I did. Then, if you want me to go home, I will.” There was a trace of disappointment in his voice, and it didn’t belong there. No matter how much it felt like we were more than friends, we weren’t. I wasn’t Lisa McAdams.
I placed the book on my nightstand, then got out of bed to lock the bedroom door before slipping beneath the covers. “You didn’t do anything to me, Brandon. I’m just…” I reached over and switched off the lamp, settling into the darkness.
I couldn’t tell him I was hurt because I didn’t want him to know how I felt. As hurt as I may have been, I refused to ruin what Brandon and I did have. “Don’t pay attention to me. It’s just a girl thing, I guess. And you don’t have to leave.”
“Okay. Just so you know, I'll never like any other girl more than you. Love you, poss.”
A dizzying heat washed over my body, a tsunami I would have gladly drowned in. A notebook was tucked away in my nightstand drawer,I love Brandonscribbled over most of the pages.
Out of the thousand ways I’d daydreamed he’d tell me he loved me, I never imagined it would be like this. Right after he’d given himself to someone else, after I’d almost kissed his best friend.
But as much as it broke my heart, I’d take that boy loving me any way I could, so I whispered, “I love you, too,” before I closed my eyes to sleep.
15
Brandon
April 2004
With the press of a button, I shot Connor’s avatar in the head. "Too slow,” I said with a triumphant grin when digital blood splattered across Connor’s TV screen.
Connor threw his controller and sank back into the sofa cushions. "I thought you were coming here last night.”
"Nah. Went to Poppy's." I always went to Poppy’s, because—and I never told Con this since, at the time, it felt stupid—she made me feel safe. I swiped the bottle of Mountain Dew from the coffee table and took a swig.
"Huh.” He fidgeted with the remote. “You like her or something?"
“What?” My chest squeezed with something akin to panic. “No! Gross. It's Poppy." So much dishonesty lingered between us, but I kept my secrets close for two reasons: Connor and Poppy.
My loyalty to him was the only thing strong enough to stop my raging teenage hormones dead in their tracks.
The memory of the two of them snuggled up on her couch watchingTitanicpopped to mind, and jealousy sunk its claws in deep. "I always stay at her house,” I said. “You know that. She's like my sister." The lies continued to pour in a desperate bid to cover the truth.
"Yeah …"
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. You pine after that girl more than a pisshead with a bottle of whiskey." I took the pack of cigarettes from my back pocket and dabbed one out, but he snatched it from me.
"Not in the house. Ma will have my arse."
"Worried she'll think you're smokin', Golden Balls?"
“Piss off."
I fell back against the cushions, combating the ugly feeling that tightened my chest. "Seriously, though, you're my best friend. Poppy’s my best friend. You two...are best friends. You can’t be looking at her likethat.”
“Why not?”
“Look. I get it. Poppyispretty, but it would ruin everything. It’s perfect exactly how it is.”
I didn’t want anything to change, but I could sense it on the horizon. We were on the precipice between adolescents and young adults. Part of me wished I could hit pause. The tumultuous emotions were already proving to be a confusing push and pull, and the situation between Poppy, Connor, and me—one wrong decision could destroy everything. I needed them both too much to risk it.
Connor’s brows pulled together. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
“You don’t really want Poppy. She’s just the only girl who talks to you.”
