Coming Up for Air

by Nicole B. Tyndall

“I had fun tonight,” he says.

  “Me too,” I say quietly.

  He’s still looking at me through the dark, and I squirm in my seat, all too aware of what could happen next. I’m doing everything I can not to look at his mouth.

  I simultaneously want him to kiss the life out of me and want to run far, far away and never look back. “I’m just going to get out of the car, before it’s a whole thing, okay?”

  “Okay.” He nods.

  But I regret saying it, and for just a second, I’m desperate to stay. I force myself to find the door handle. “Okay. Um. Bye.”

  But as I’m standing outside, before I can shut the car door, I hear his voice. “Hey, Hadley. Wait.” He’s leaning toward me, golden hair falling over his forehead. “I just thought you should know. For me, tonight, total big deal. Best fifth date I’ve ever had.”

  “Yeah?” I bite the inside of my lips until they hurt.

  “I’m going to make it six.”

  “You can try.”

  We look at each other, quiet. “All right, then, I’ll try.”

  And as I move to head inside my house, I feel like I’m floating on air. The minute I close the door, my phone buzzes. What are you doing tomorrow?

  I’m putting my bag in my locker on Monday morning when Braden approaches and leans against the metal door.

  “Hey.” His expression is boyish, sweet. It’s the simplest thing he could have said, but my whole body reacts.

  I haven’t seen him since Friday. I couldn’t hang out on Saturday, because my family already had plans, and I was starting to worry. Did he take it personally that I said no? What if he realized I’m not as interesting as he thought? What if he could tell how into him I am and decided the challenge was over? My mind found so many ways that this might blow up in my face.

  “Hey,” I echo, trying not to sound as relieved or happy as I feel.

  “So.” He takes a half step closer. “I want to tell you something, but I’m afraid you’re going to make fun of me.”

  A thousand contradicting feelings clash together when I look at him. Teasing feels safest. “I think you might be on to something.”

  “Hm.” His eyes crinkle as he assesses me. “Never mind, then.” He starts to walk away.

  My reaction is immediate. I close my locker and hurry to catch up. “Fine! Okay! I won’t make fun of you.”

  He stops. “You promise?”

  I nod.

  His voice is low. “I was just going to tell you that I’ve never looked forward to Monday so much.” He glances around the hallway, but nobody is paying any attention; just a few scattered students getting ready for first hour.

  “What?” I study him, afraid to feel flattered.

  He tilts his head and shrugs. “Yeah.”

  The warning bell rings, cutting through the tension between us.

  Still facing me, he takes a couple steps backward. “I’ll see you later, Hadley.” And as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone.

  And the whole week is like that—Braden appearing for brief moments in my otherwise normal days, and those instances feel more vivid than everything else put together. I find myself looking for him around every corner, jumping at every text, every male voice, anything at all that could be him. Nothing has really happened, aside from some serious flirting, and by lunch on Friday, I feel a little crazed.

  I do my best to put him out of my mind and take a bite of my sandwich. “No, I get the assignment, Bec. I just don’t know why she always has us do dioramas. Like, when in the hell are we ever going to need to know how to do a freaking diorama?” I laugh over the noise of the cafeteria.

  “Fair, turning a shoebox into a scene from Animal Farm doesn’t really seem like a marketable skill,” Becca says.

  “Right?”

  But the rest of my thought leaves, because I swear to god, I smell his soap before I see him.

  “Hey, Hadley. Can I sit with you guys?” Braden asks, chomping into an apple.

  A thrill runs through me. “Hey, I thought you were in the later lunch today.”

  “I am,” he admits before sitting down. “You’re Becca, right?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Braden. Maybe Hadley mentioned me?”

  I shoot Becca a look, and she’s quick on the uptake. “Sorry, no.”

  Braden turns to me. “Really? Nothing at all worth mentioning?”

  My smile is so big and wide it might actually crack my head open. “Nope.”

  “Well, I guess I have to step it up, then, huh?” I watch his lips, and I catch myself wondering how his mouth would feel. When I look into his eyes, he smirks.

  He knows.

  I turn to Becca, trying to get out from under his freaking spell, but she’s looking at us intently. Plotting.

  Shit.

  “Braden, why don’t you come to my house tonight?” she asks him, all faux innocence, “I’m having people over, and Hadley will be there, if you want to join.” I look at her, unsure if I want to kill her or kiss her. Do I just want to kiss everybody right now? She doesn’t falter. “Plus, we could use some help after school, setting up. My boyfriend, Greg, has to work, and I don’t want to make Ty move all the firewood alone.”

  “I can definitely help.” He looks at me, hopeful. “If that’s cool with you, Hadley?”

  My eyes can’t seem to stay off his lips. “Um, yeah. Yeah. I mean, if you want to.”

  “I do.” He turns back to Becca. “Hadley can text me your address?”

  Becca says, “She’s got it.”

  He looks at me. “Well, then, it’s a date.” He raises his eyebrows. “Number six.”

  * * *

  We’re standing outside the linen closet at Becca’s house. The door is thrown open, and blankets, pillows, sleeping bags, and every kind of sheet and towel are all bursting past the doorframe.

  “So what’s this for, again?” Braden asks.

  “Braden. You’re killing me.” Becca has her hand on her hip, assessing the contents of the closet. They’re already acting like best friends, and she will definitely be getting a speech about loyalty later. She continues, “To start, the blankets go on the trampoline.”

  I help explain. “Becca always tries to get us to stay out there all night, but we’ve never made it. The trampoline is too far from the bonfire, and it’s completely freezing. So we need every blanket we can get.” I turn to Becca. “We know it would be more logical to convince Becca that we don’t actually need to be out there that long, but…”

  “It’s tradition,” Ty concludes. A corner of his mouth lifts, and he glances in my direction.

  Suddenly afraid Braden might think I sleep next to Tyler, I clarify. “The guys have to leave at some point—rules of the house. And the latest Becca and I have ever made it is four in the morning, even in the summer. Our success rate is directly linked to the number of blankets.”

  Braden makes a skeptical face at Ty. “If they’ve never done it, is it really a tradition?”

  “It’s a tradition that we try,” I tell him, now feeling defensive. “Becca always picks a night that is, like, almost unbelievably too cold for the first bonfire of the year. I guess we should be grateful she chose October, instead of mid-January.” I look at Becca, but she just smiles innocently. “And we get food that we can cook on the firepit, so s’mores, and hot dogs, and we bring tons of sleeping bags onto the trampoline, and…just hang out, I guess.”

  Becca jumps in. “And Tyler always makes a special playlist for the occasion.”

  Braden looks at me pointedly, but I don’t return his gaze.

  Tyler nods in agreement and adds, “And Hadley almost always gets grossed out by the burnt hot dogs and orders pizza.”

  “Pepperoni, green peppers, and onions?” Braden asks.

  I nod,
but Tyler contradicts me. “Usually just pepperoni.”

  “And Greg pulls up that astronomy app.” Becca’s voice goes dreamy.

  Tyler brushes her off. “Yeah, yeah. We know, you’re dating.”

  Becca points to the bundles in Braden’s and Tyler’s arms. “Okay, I think that’s enough blankets and stuff for now. We can bring those down and see if we need more.”

  Braden gestures with his head to the staircase. “Sounds good. After you, ladies. And Tyler.”

  * * *

  An hour later, the patio, chairs, and trampoline have all been cleared of fallen leaves, and the wood for the bonfire is stacked and ready to be lit. I’m grateful that Becca’s choir friends and Ty’s friends from band won’t get here until later, because I’m shivery by the time we come back inside. It will be nice to warm up for a bit.

  Becca and Tyler go to get some snacks from the storage room, leaving Braden and me alone in the living room. My stomach flutters as he sits next to me on the couch, placing his arm across the back. I pull a blanket from the armrest, and Braden adjusts it to cover us both. I feel his attention on me, but I’m too nervous to return it. I distract myself by trying to get some feeling back into my fingers.

  “You’re never going to warm them up like that.” He reaches for my hands and eases my cotton gloves off. Then he takes my fingers and presses them between his.

  “You need skin to skin. And friction.”

  He moves his hands slowly back and forth over mine and brings them to his parted lips, blowing hot air onto our curled fists. Then he pulls our gathered hands to his cheek and leans his face against them. My rings press gently into his skin. “Better?”

  My heart hammers as I nod.

  “Hadley.” He falls into silence. “I’ve been thinking….”

  “What?” I say, breathless, afraid to move much at all, and it’s like I’m standing on ice.

  His voice lowers to a whisper. “There’s something here. Between us.”

  I’m suddenly afraid of where this is going. If he says it out loud, there’s no taking it back. “Braden—”

  “I like you.”

  I inhale sharply. I should be thrilled. He’s doing and saying all the right things, but instead of happiness or relief, all of my fears are piling up. I pull my hands away. “Braden…I should have told you sooner, but I sort of promised myself I wouldn’t get involved with anybody for a while. And—”

  “What?” He interrupts, but he doesn’t look upset. In fact, when he speaks, his words are playful. “Don’t you think…Isn’t it a little late for that?”

  I bury my face in my palms and then peek out above them, studying his hazel eyes. His stupid hazel eyes. Yes. Yes, it’s too late. “Maybe,” I manage.

  “ ‘Maybe’?” He’s incredulous.

  “Yeah.” I nod.

  “So exactly how long did you plan to avoid getting involved?”

  “Like…all of junior year?”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh.”

  And then I start to ramble. “It’s, well, I told you about my ex, Noah. He and I just broke up not that long ago. In August. And it sucked. And I didn’t even really like him, not like—”

  Trying not to smile, Braden’s lips press together, and I realize what I almost admitted.

  “I mean,” I continue, feeling the blush spread against my cheeks, “I had everything all planned out.” The air goes out of me. “And then I met you.”

  “And then you met me,” he repeats, turning the words into something lighter. It almost sounds like a question.

  There’s a sharp pain in my gut. “Braden, I have no idea what I’m doing,” I admit.

  “Neither do I,” he says. He leans closer. “Look, Hadley, I’m not trying to push you into anything. If you want me to back off, just say the word.”

  But, the thing is, I can’t.

  I look at him and force myself to address what’s scaring me most. “You like me?” The words feel like delicate glass.

  He nods. “Yeah.” This time, he’s the one watching my mouth. We’re so close, he’s whispering. “But I could try to stop, if you want. I could try to be your friend.”

  I swear I can feel his breath on my lips.

  Suddenly I’m desperate to take it all back. I shake my head. “I don’t think…” But then I trail off because he’s tilting his head ever so slightly. Without thinking, I lean a fraction of an inch closer to his face.

  “Hads!” Becca barks my name from the other room, and I jump completely out of my un-kissed skin.

  I knew they weren’t going to be gone forever, but I have a sudden, strong urge to take out my best friend.

  Braden pulls away as Tyler comes around the corner with a bag of popcorn and a jumbo bag of M&M’s, Becca trailing him. Tyler seems to sense that he interrupted something, but Becca is clueless. “Tiebreaker. Mixed together, for the ultimate salty-and-sweet medley? Or separate and boring AF?” She looks pointedly at Ty.

  Braden’s elbows are resting on his knees, and he’s gently pressing his knuckles against his lips.

  “Separate,” I answer, just to spite her. It’s petty, I know, but her timing.

  Her eyebrows furrow, and she looks around, wondering what the problem is. She and I usually stick together against the boys. She looks at the lack of space between me and Braden and understanding clicks behind her eyes. She gives me a sorry-sorry-sorry face, and I widen my eyes in a look that I hope tells her I love her but also that she is freaking roadkill.

  “All right,” Braden says, standing. “I think my initiation hazing is done?”

  “Yeah, Roberts.” Tyler nods. “You’ve done your part.”

  “Okay, so I promised my mom I’d be home for dinner, since she’s actually home tonight, so see you guys again around eight?”

  “Later,” Tyler answers.

  And suddenly Braden is walking away. He’s standing with the length of the coffee table between us. “See you, Hadley.”

  “I’ll be here.” It’s a small voice that I’ve never heard myself use before.

  Then he turns and ascends the steps two at a time.

  When he’s gone, Becca smirks at me and flicks a single piece of popcorn into her mouth. “It is so over for you,” she says, obliterating the popcorn between her teeth.

  * * *

  I’m sitting as close as I can to the bonfire without having to worry that my blanket is actually going to ignite. It’s been hours since Braden left, and despite my best efforts, I’m still thinking of him every time I join my hands together in front of me. I keep catching myself looking at my fingers. Waiting for him, I feel a little unhinged. I check the time again. He should be back soon.

  “Hadley? Where are you right now?”

  I look up at Ty. The warm light of the fire bounces off his face, bringing out the gold undertones in his light brown skin. He’s wearing hunter green joggers with a black crew neck, and his Vans are bouncing to the beat of the music. I pull my camera from the chair next to me and snap a shot. In this moment, he somehow looks totally himself. “Sorry, I’m just…distracted,” I tell him as I click the shutter again. Ty doesn’t even react; he’s so used to me taking his picture.

  I review the last image and notice a funny expression on his face. I put the camera down and give him my full attention. “What did you say?”

  “I asked if you listened to it yet.”

  I make a sheepish face. “Listened to what?”

  “Man, you really are in your own world. The new playlist.”

  My stomach drops. I have been avoiding this since Braden’s weird comments about it. “Oh. Um. Listened-ish. I didn’t know where I was going, so I had my GPS on, and it kept interrupting.” It’s not a lie—that did happen; it’s just also not the whole truth.

  “Oh. Well, you should try it again. The so
ngs are…They’re good.” He tries to meet my eye, but I can’t quite manage it.

  “Okay. I will,” I answer too quickly, and then try to change the subject. “Anyway, what’s up with that girl I saw you with in the hallway today? After band? Anything happening there?”

  “What? Oh, Amber. Nah.”

  “Why not? She’s so pretty.” This whole conversation feels phony, so forced, but Braden has gotten into my head and messed up what would normally be an easy exchange with Ty.

  “Yeah, I don’t know. Hey, did you happen to at least hear the last song?”

  “Um, maybe?” I open up Spotify.

  “You should make sure you have the right one; it’s called ‘Flexuary.’ Greg named it, obviously.” He laughs under his breath. Greg named it; it wasn’t just for me. I feel my posture relax.

  Greg, who must have been off with Becca, lands with a thud on the chair next to Ty and interrupts him. “ ’Cause we’re flexin’.” Greg flexes a modest bicep covered in layers of sweatshirt. The firelight bounces off his teeth.

  “What did you do—hear your name and come running?” I tease.

  They ignore me. “Yeah, we are,” Ty says. Greg slams a friendly fist against Tyler’s shoulder.

  Then, as if he just noticed me sitting here, Greg looks between Ty and me. “Shit. Wait. Did I walk in on you still trying to educate Hopeless Hads on music?” The weird tension with Tyler is new, but this conversation is not.

  I defend myself, laughing. “Greg. Hopeless? So harsh. Just because I’m not writing an essay on the world’s best lyrical double entendres doesn’t mean I’m a total lost cause.” Ty and Greg spend hours on Genius, fanboying over the most creative verses.

  Greg shakes his head. “She’s just never going to develop the sophisticated tastes that we have.”

  “ ’Cause you’re notoriously sophisticated, Greg,” I shoot back. But then it occurs to me that my supposed ignorance could work in my favor, just in case Braden was onto something with Ty. I try to play it off. “But I guess I kind of see what you’re saying. I wouldn’t say I’m hopeless. But words have never been my thing.” I gesture to my camera. “I’m better with visual art.”