Burning Britely

by Deidre Huesmann

  “Do not.”

  Braeden let out a short laugh. “Yeah, you do. All the time. And that’s the other thing. You act like you’re better than everyone else. That’s why Maya’s practically your only friend.”

  Jeff did his best not to flinch. Nothing Braeden said was untrue—but no one had ever said it so directly.

  “That’s what it feels like.”

  Jeff said nothing.

  “That’s how Brenda felt when you wiped your mouth after she kissed you.”

  Jeff stared at him, aghast. “She told you that?”

  An uneven smile curved Braeden’s lips. “Don’t your siblings tell you things you don’t want to know?”

  He rubbed his mouth again, his cheeks flushed with a blend of humiliation and anger. “I’m an only child,” he mumbled.

  Braeden nodded, as though it explained a lot. Perhaps it did.

  If I don’t put more distance between us, I’ll do something we’ll both regret.

  Jeff veered off the path. He heard Braeden’s startled stumble, then just the thrashing of bushes and ferns as they tore through the bramble. The ground went from winding yet predictable to rough and uneven. The trees cloistered together, like a coagulating cloud of gossips, and more vegetation emerged. Dandelions. Golden currant. Spicebushes emitted a semi-sweet scent. Stinging nettles buried their fine, sharp hairs into his shins.

  Neither of them spoke. Braeden soon grew short of breath. Jeff did, too, but for different reasons. He wanted Braeden to go away, to give him space to suck in the oxygen he needed, but he also strangely liked the chase, the feeling that Braeden was pursuing him. That he found Jeff interesting enough to pursue, even if only in this weird, unphysical way.

  I wasn’t supposed to get close to him. That wasn’t the plan.

  So he kept thrashing through, and he didn’t speak to Braeden. Even if he’d wanted to, they were both panting, exerting more effort off the beaten path. Jeff felt slimy sweat accumulate under his arms.

  Finally, he stopped. He had to, or they’d soon get lost. Braeden stopped as well, mere feet away. Both boys panted, their sweat mingling with the cold humidity swirling through the forest.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jeff’s muscles scrunched at the words. He peered up at Braeden, grateful for the sun trying to get into his eyes. The reflection should have made his stare indiscernible to Braeden—so he wouldn’t see the hunger ripping through Jeff’s psyche. “For what?”

  Braeden blew out a long gust of air and used his shirt to wipe his face. Jeff couldn’t help staring at the sharp curve of Braeden’s hip, protruding from his jeans. “For pissing you off.”

  Shaking his head, Jeff said between breaths, “I deserved it.”

  “Not my place to decide.” Braeden removed another bottle of water from his pack and downed that, too. Jeff followed his lead, draining what was left of his bottle. He squeezed the empty container, his fingers flexing over the foam padding of its grip. “Just wanted to be sure you weren’t a complete sociopath.”

  Jeff lowered his eyes.

  Braeden’s chest heaved and he fell into a crouch, dipping his head down. “Look, man, I don’t know what it is, but I feel like you need some help.”

  Jeff rubbed his mouth. His face was damp. He didn’t use his shirt to wipe it, strangely self-conscious of what Braeden would think of him, of his body.

  Not that it matters.

  “Doesn’t it bother you that Maya’s your only friend?”

  Jeff ran a hand through his hair. “Not really.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  That was the question he couldn’t answer. Why was he here, standing so close to Braeden Britely, watching the sun filter through the trees in golden filaments until they struck Braeden’s skin? Why was he talking to him, admitting his faults, nodding along while Braeden rattled off a long list of his shortcomings and insecurities?

  How was Braeden’s pull so powerful that Jeff, who scoffed as others’ lack of self-control, wanted to abandon every stitch that kept him bound together?

  Braeden stood and stretched. “I think you want more friends. That’s why you’re here.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you?”

  Jeff scowled. It was another mask, something to keep Braeden from reading him too easily. To prevent him from knowing the terrible, exciting, sinful thoughts spinning Jeff out of control. “I don’t see why everyone’s so keen to change me. I like the way I am.”

  “If you liked the way you were, you would have told me to fuck off a long time ago.”

  That wasn’t true. Jeff almost said it but stopped. It would just invite more questions, like, Why? Why not? Then why are you spending time with me? What? Why would you think I swing that way? Aren’t you disgusted by those thoughts?

  He couldn’t say a word. Not without giving himself away.

  When Jeff failed to answer, Braeden said, “Can I ask you a favor?”

  Jeff shook his head, yet his mouth said, “What is it?”

  “Would you mind tutoring me?”

  The world spun for a moment. Jeff placed his hand on a tree, the rough bark reminding him that this was reality. That he’d chosen this. Since when does he need help with homework? He’s not stupid. And we only share the one class. “I’m a junior,” he said. Perhaps unnecessarily.

  “Yeah, but math was never my strong suit.” Braeden flashed a sheepish grin. “And if you’re taking AP classes, I figure algebra isn’t too hard for you.”

  Algebra. Not even calculus. Damn it, why couldn’t he dredge up some disgust?

  Jeff drew a deep, quiet breath. His mouth was dry. Drinking water didn’t quench his thirst and only made his throat ache. He didn’t have time for this. Brenda had wasted his time already. He had just started getting ahead again. Nothing mattered more than making valedictorian.

  So it made no sense when he said, “Sure. No problem.”

  Braeden smiled, though, and between his electric gaze and endearing crooked teeth, Jeff couldn’t deny the warmth in the pit of his stomach that spread to his veins and heated his blood and felt headier than anything in the known world.

  After that, it was almost like the heavy topics were forgotten. Jeff led Braeden back to the beaten path, the one most familiar to them, the one that was safe and known and accepted. Thin, irregular red lines adorned their legs where sticker bushes had caught them. Jeff was tired and sweating, Braeden looked tired and was sweating, but they kept the topics light. Homework, the news class, the trail, and how Braeden wanted to come with him again to explore more unknown territory. It struck Jeff’s ill-used imagination, like stone against stone, and made him wonder for the first time—what would that be like? To explore just for the joy of it?

  They were back in the park both too soon and not soon enough. Braeden didn’t split right away, though. “We’re going in the same direction, right? I’ll drive you home.”

  Jeff shook his head. “I can walk.”

  Braeden shoved him lightly. “Come on. We walked for hours.”

  “I can walk a little more.”

  Braeden rounded on him, blocking his path. On either side of him, children continued to play, albeit fewer of them and in whinier tones. Many were getting worn out—as was Jeff’s self-control.

  “It’s just a fifteen-minute drive,” said Braeden. “Not a big deal. Besides, I meant what I said.”

  “About what?”

  “About wanting to be your friend.”

  Jeff looked away, grateful for the cool breeze. “You never said that.”

  “I tried to imply it.”

  Jeff shrugged.

  Braeden shook his head, glanced away … and then placed a hand on Jeff’s shoulder.

  Jeff stiffened. Hot. Hot-blooded. Heat equals passion. His lips tingled, and he pressed them tight together. I’m so screwed.

  “Jeff,” said Braeden, so solemn that it had to be a joke. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  Jeff shook him off. �
��Don’t say stupid things.”

  Braeden chuckled.

  I need to get away. Jeff took a step back. Then stopped. Then he just looked at Braeden, who stood there so serenely, his expression so open and mild and calm.

  Jeff’s chest felt ready to explode.

  Against his better judgment, he said, “Yeah. Okay. I’ll take that ride home.”

  * * * *

  Braeden drove a simple silver Nissan sedan. Jeff didn’t know the year or model just by looking at it—cars didn’t particularly interest him—but he recognized the efficient quality of the vehicle by the sum of its parts. It had some notable upgrades, like leather seats with heating and a moon roof, and was comfortable enough in the passenger’s seat.

  “If you have a car, why do you take the bus to school?” asked Jeff.

  Braeden flipped down the sun visor before backing out of the parking spot. “It’s not mine.”

  Of course. A simple answer, one he should have thought of. Jeff looked out the window as the comforts of the park slowly retreated, then faster and faster until trees and houses became blurs unless he focused on a particular point.

  “I talked to Maya.”

  Jeff silently cursed. He thought they’d put the heavy topics behind. “Cool.”

  Braeden shot him a sideways glance. “Aren’t you curious why?”

  Jeff shrugged and allowed his eyes to wander everywhere that wasn’t over the most attractive person he’d ever met. “Something about me.”

  “Yup.”

  He sighed. “Fine, I’ll bite. What about?”

  “You two are, like, the mystery duo at school.” Braeden gestured with one hand as he spoke, even while driving. It made Jeff nervous. “She’s tiny and adorable and no one hates her, but she doesn’t really hang out with anyone but you, and you’re so…” He frowned.

  “Assholeish?”

  “Cranky.”

  Jeff snorted softly. “Guess so.”

  “Maya could be popular if she wanted.”

  “Maya likes what she likes and who she likes. Social status doesn’t mean much to her.”

  “Like with you?”

  Jeff frowned. “Guess so,” he repeated.

  With a nod, Braeden made a sharp turn, seeming not to notice the stop sign. It made Jeff clutch the grip in the car door until his knuckles burned.

  “I asked her how you guys met.”

  Though Braeden’s tone was cavalier, the words made every muscle in Jeff’s back harden. It took him a moment to unclench his jaw. “Cool.”

  Braeden shot him an odd look. “She wouldn’t tell me. Said it was none of my business.”

  Jeff said nothing.

  “It just makes us more curious, you know.”

  “Us?”

  “Everyone.”

  Jeff shook his head.

  His voice softening, Braeden said, “Is it sensitive?”

  “As in?”

  “Traumatic.”

  Jeff blew out a harsh breath. He considered the question, considered what he knew of his best friend, and closed his eyes. “Not exactly.”

  “Then why the secrecy?”

  Squirming in his seat, Jeff took a few heavy heartbeats to answer. “It’s stupid.”

  Braeden nodded. He didn’t say a word. He slowed the car, though, and until that moment, he hadn’t paid too much attention to the speed limit.

  Jeff gnawed on his tongue. “I’ve always been small for my age. Maya, too.”

  Braeden nodded again.

  “Made me an easy target. It was a game, I guess. Kids would pick on me, say stupid shit. Try to see who could make me cry.”

  “I can’t imagine you crying.”

  Heat laced through Jeff’s cheeks. Whatever had made him open up now made him want to shut down. It was ridiculous, admitting weakness, especially now that he was older, so close to being an adult, and no one messed with him anymore.

  “Sorry,” said Braeden. “I won’t comment.” He raised a solemn hand. “Scout’s honor.”

  “You would’ve been in scouts,” muttered Jeff.

  Braeden smiled.

  A couple more minutes passed before Jeff felt comfortable continuing. “I think it was second grade. Maybe third. Doesn’t really matter. But during recess, some guys asked me to play a game. Playground had those huge tires buried halfway into the dirt that we could hide in. They said I should climb inside and brace myself at the top and two others would be on either side, and everyone else would try to pull it out of the ground and roll it.” He shook his head. “Which is stupid. Physically, I mean.”

  Up ahead, his neighborhood made its appearance. Dowdy and plain. Not made of money. Not at all like Braeden Britely.

  “I climbed up. Two other guys were on the other sides.” Jeff folded his arms across his chest. “They grabbed my arms and legs. The biggest came in and started punching me in the stomach.”

  All traces of humor left Braeden. His expression became blank, almost unreadable. Pity, Jeff knew. Anyone who knew the story understood. But few did know the story, because Jeff was a background figure, someone who had never made waves. Someone who had rarely left an impression aside from his size. The few who knew were complicit, now led good lives with great social statuses, and wouldn’t jeopardize themselves by admitting to past bullying.

  “Punched me until I puked,” he said quietly. His abdomen ached just talking about it. “Don’t know how I didn’t fall. Guess that’s what the other guys were for.”

  Braeden said nothing.

  “Anyway…” Jeff trailed off, unsure how to bridge the gap. There was more. Being kicked in the balls. His glasses broken. Trying and failing to fight back, until two fingers were snapped, and an arm fractured. All important details, none Braeden needed to know. Or care about. He cleared his throat. “Maya was the one who called a teacher. But nothing came of it. No one saw anything, just some kids playing rough in the tires. And the school claimed they couldn’t prove it had really happened on school grounds. Made Mom cry. Dad was pissed.”

  “I’ll bet.” Braeden winced. “Sorry. I said I’d shut up.”

  Jeff waved a hand. The difficult part of the story was over. “I had to switch schools, but Maya ended up transferring, too. Said she had too many absences, but once I was gone, I think the jerkoffs turned on her.” He shifted. “She’s actually your age, you know. Just held back a year.”

  Braeden nodded.

  “Don’t know why we made friends after that,” said Jeff. “It just felt right.”

  And that was it. That was the stupid story behind why they’d met, how they’d known each other. Petty, ridiculous, childhood bullying that had ended up with zero consequences for anyone but Jeff and Maya. Something that the two of them understood better than most of their peers.

  He looked up, surprised to find Braeden had pulled up on the sidewalk right in front of his house. Perhaps Brenda had fessed up to his address.

  Braeden didn’t look at him. His lips were pursed in thought. He tapped the steering wheel. Then stopped. Then looked at Jeff. “I’m sorry.”

  Jeff shrugged.

  “It’s fucked up,” said Braeden. “What those assholes did.”

  “It’s nature,” murmured Jeff. “Survival of the fittest. Darwin’s playground.”

  “Doesn’t make it right.”

  “Nothing about it was right. They were never punished. Mom and Dad had to pay for my medical bills. Military doesn’t cover everything.”

  Braeden nodded. “I think I get it, though.”

  Jeff blinked. His brows furrowed.

  “Why Maya’s your friend.”

  With a self-deprecating smile, Jeff said, “Part pity, part self-loathing?”

  Braeden shook his head. His piled curls were falling from their careful style and into his eyes. Green like heat, like fireworks in a black sky. “Because you can’t trust anyone else. She’s seen you vulnerable. She knows you didn’t deserve it. And she knows that trusting kid is still somewhere inside, all wal
led off.”

  Jeff turned his head. He’d talked more than he could remember in five minutes than he ever had in his life. Like once the needle had gone in, his silence had popped, feeble as a stressed balloon.

  He unbuckled his seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride.”

  As he opened the door and stepped out, Braeden said, “When do we start?”

  Jeff glanced at him.

  “My tutoring.”

  Oh. That.

  Jeff rubbed his mouth. Looked away, then looked back. “Mom lets me have guests over on Wednesdays and Thursdays until eight, then the weekends until basically whenever.”

  The corner of Braeden’s mouth cocked up. “My house. Monday. I don’t have a meet, then.”

  Jeff gave him a quizzical look. “What about your brother?”

  With a wink, Braeden said, “Tutoring is a special exception.”

  Ah. That was the name of the game. Part of Jeff had to admire the ingenuity. Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “Do you even really need help with math?”

  “Oh, yeah. Desperately.” Braeden’s smile grew. “Unlike Brenda, I don’t have half the brains in my family.”

  Jeff had nothing to say to that, so he nodded.

  Braeden waved. “Cool. See you tomorrow.”

  He drove off before the lovely haze encasing Jeff dissipated, and he realized Monday was, in fact, tomorrow.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  So much for trying to focus on his test.

  Chapter Six

  Maya punched him in the arm. “You told him?”

  Jeff flinched and looked around. In the chaotic din of the cafeteria, they earned only a few weird looks. “Not so loud!”

  She huffed but lowered her voice. “For god’s sake, Jeff, I purposefully kept quiet because you’ve always asked me not to tell!”

  He rubbed his arm. For a small girl, Maya was strong. “You still take those karate classes seriously?”

  “Don’t change the subject.” She pointed at him, though there was little malice in her voice. “I don’t mind, but I could have done it for you if I’d known. That had to be … be…”