“God, she drives me nuts!” Corbin turned back to Brandon.
“Your mother, I assume?” Brandon stepped out of the way to let Corbin enter the house.
“Yeah. She had to make sure someone was here. My parents are so overprotective.”
“I tried to never be that way with Cam. Marcia and I tried to let him have his freedom without smothering him.”
Corbin turned to him and frowned. “Look, Chan. No offense, but you have to stop saying shit like that. It weirds me out.” He shuddered.
“What do you mean?”
“You said that Brandon Daniels was dead as far as you were concerned, so you have to quit talking like him. My brain feels like it’s going to explode sometimes trying to separate my buddy Chan from my friend Mr. Daniels.” Corbin pulled his backpack from his shoulder. “For Christ sake, I used to call you ‘sir.’”
Brandon had never thought of it from Corbin’s point of view, and how weird it could be for him now that he knew his identity. Corbin is right. Brandon thought for a moment. I’m not Brandon Daniels anymore; I'm Channing Burkhart, and its time I start acting like it.
“You’re right, Corb. It’s time I leave Brandon in the past.”
“Good. And for God’s sake, leave his sense of style in the past as well.” Corbin looked him up and down and crinkled his nose.
“What? This doesn’t look good?” Brandon considered his ensemble: the white jeans and blue tank top with the pink long-sleeve shirt thrown casually over it. Maybe it was a little Miami Vice, but it wasn’t horrible. Was it? He looked back up at Corbin.
“Dude! Where are you getting these clothes? From your Uncle Tommy’s attic?” Corbin shook his head.
“Obviously.” Brandon shrugged. “But how did you know?”
“I’m psychic, remember?” Corbin grabbed Brandon's shoulders, turned him around, and pushed him down the hall to his bedroom.
“What are you doing?” Brandon laughed.
“Trust me. It’s for your own good.” Corbin said. After closing the bedroom door, Corbin took charge. “Lose the pink shirt. I’m not going to the party of the year with Don Johnson.”
He dug in his backpack and pulled out a pair of torn skinny jeans and threw them at Brandon.
“You watch Miami Vice?” Brandon’s face lit up as he pulled off his pants.
“My dad has the box set,” Corbin replied as he proceeded to dig his own clothes from the backpack. “I know some shit about old TV shows.”
“Old.” Brandon laughed as he struggled to pull up the skin-tight jeans on, hoping he could still get his cigarettes in the pocket. “I remember I never missed an episode on Friday nights.”
“Nerd.” Corbin pulled off his shirt.
“What about my shirt?” Brandon checked himself out in the mirror.
“The tank is fine.” Corbin pulled off his shorts and grabbed his black jeans.
“Hey,” Brandon posed in the mirror, admiring how good his butt looked in tight-fitting jeans, “what about your girlfriend? Rachel, wasn’t it? Is she going to be there?”
“We broke up.” Corbin jumped up and down, struggling to pull up his tight pants.
“I’m sorry, dude.” Brandon looked at his friend’s reflection in the mirror. “What happened?”
“Distance, I guess you could say.” He shrugged. “We met last summer at church camp. She goes to Sacred Heart High, and we didn’t get to see each other that often. It sucks trying to have a relationship when you can’t drive and have to depend on someone for a ride.”
“Yeah. I’m starting to understand that. Driving is something you take for granted as an adult.” Brandon sat down on the edge of the bed. Are you okay with it?”
Corbin shrugged. “I guess so. It does suck, though. She was the first girl I really liked. I mean, she actually said she loved me, and I believed her.”
“Did you feel the same about her?” Brandon asked.
“I don’t know…maybe…how do you know?” He looked at Brandon.
“Dude. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it myself.” He scoffed.
“No way!” Corbin’s eyes widened.
“Nope. Only woman I ever dated was Marcia, and she was a bitch. I never loved her.” Brandon said. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bring up the former life.”
“It’s okay. I kinda went there.” Corbin pulled a black long-sleeve shirt from his bag. “So, I never asked. Were you always gay?”
“Yeah.” Brandon bent down and straightened the cuffs of his jeans. “I played straight because of my dad, ex-wife, and Cam.”
“Dude. I’d never pretend to be someone I’m not.”
“Yeah. I was stupid. This time around though, I’m going to be who I am, and fuck anyone that doesn’t like it.”
“Word.” Corbin reached out with his fist, and Brandon bumped it with his own.
Fifteen minutes later, Brandon and Corbin entered the living room to wait for Logan as Tommy and Kathy entered from the kitchen.
Tommy let out a wolf-whistle. “Looking good, guys.”
“I like your bowtie, Corbin,” Kathy said, pointing to the gray accessory that Corbin had chosen to complete his monochromatic ensemble.
“Thanks, Mrs. Burkhart. It’s a tribute to the eleventh Doctor.” He reached up and adjusted his tie with pride.
“Nerd.” Brandon looked at him and smiled.
“Bowties are cool.” Corbin quoted Doctor Who.
Brandon punched him on the shoulder.
Tommy caught Brandon’s eye and motioned towards the kitchen. Brandon cocked his head and looked at Corbin and Kathy before following Tommy. Leading him out of earshot of Corbin and Kathy, Tommy turned to him.
“Brand. Listen, bud. I trust your decisions because I know you’re a responsible adult, but Corbin,” He pointed towards the other room, “is a kid. He may not make the wisest decisions tonight, so you need to watch out for him.”
“I know, Tom.” Brandon agreed. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“Cool, dude.” He smiled and paused to inspect his friend’s trendy clothes. “Your first high school keg party! I’m actually jealous.”
“I know, right! If we hadn’t been such geeks in school, we might have scored some invites.”
“Eh,” Tommy shrugged, “we were having our own parties playing D&D with the guys.”
“Ah.” Brandon sighed. “Those were the days.”
They both thought back to their typical Friday nights in their parents’ basements, sitting around a card table, playing D&D, talking sci-fi novels and TV, and eating popcorn and oatmeal crème pies. Their walk down memory lane was interrupted by a ding from Brandon’s phone. Brandon pulled it out, glanced at it, and then smiled up at Tommy.
“Looks like our ride is here.” He said.
“Cool, dude.” Tommy patted him on the back. “Hope you have fun.”
“I plan on it.” Brandon grinned as they rejoined the others in the living room.
“Logan’s here,” Brandon announced.
“You boys be careful,” Kathy said as Brandon led Corbin towards the door.
“We will, Kathy,” Brandon said.
As soon as they were out the door, Corbin stopped. “What was that about in the kitchen?”
“Oh, Tommy was telling me to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like get drunk and start fights.”
“I’m a very responsible guy. You have nothing to worry about.” Corbin laughed as he lifted his head boastfully
“Yeah, right!” Brandon scoffed.
He could make out the shadow of someone in the passenger seat of Logan’s truck as he and Corbin strolled down the driveway. Logan hopped out of his truck to allow Brandon and Corbin into the back seat of the double-cab.
“Hey, dude!” Logan said in greeting as Brandon and Corbin walked up.
“Hey, man!” Brandon greeted Logan back as he surreptitiously checked out the chest hair that peeked out of the V-neck of his very tight shirt. Skinny j
eans completed the look, but Brandon was afraid to give them too much attention.
“Hey, dude.” Corbin greeted Logan.
“Hey,” Logan replied.
Logan gave Brandon a once-over. “Cool threads.”
“Yeah. You should have seen what he was going to wear.” Corbin joked. “He looked like he walked straight out of 1985.”
“Shut up.” Brandon shoved him playfully.
Corbin got in first and scooted to the passenger side with Brandon taking the seat behind Logan.
“Hey, dudes!” Cam called from the passenger seat.
“Hey!” Brandon replied while Corbin gave a slight wave in return.
“Cam, this is Corbin. Corbin, this is Cam.” Brandon introduced them.
“Hey.” Cam turned his head to look behind him and stuck his hand out for a fist bump to which Corbin returned with apprehension.
Although Corbin mowed Brandon’s lawn and had been at his house a few times when Cam was visiting, Cam never took the time to actually meet his dad’s ‘lawn boy.’
“I know you. You used to mow my dad’s lawn?” Cam turned to face the front.
“Yep.” Corbin snapped and sat back with a sour expression.
Brandon shot his eyes towards Corbin.
What’s up with you? He mouthed silently to Corbin as Logan started the truck.
Nothing. Corbin mouthed back.
It hit Brandon that Corbin still had hard feelings towards his son over his ‘death.’ Although Corbin knew Brandon hadn’t died, he obviously still held a grudge against Cam for his perceived lack of concern. Brandon decided to play peacemaker.
Say something to him. He mouthed.
Corbin shook his head like a defiant four-year-old.
Brandon squinted angrily at him.
Fine. Corbin mouthed as he rolled his eyes.
“So, Cam, you meeting Gina at the party?” Corbin asked, obviously not up on the latest teen relationship news.
No! Brandon mouthed as he kicked Corbin in the shin.
What? Corbin mouthed and reached down to rub his leg.
“Actually, dude,” Cam said, “Gina and I broke up a couple of weeks ago.”
Corbin’s eyes dropped. “Oh. Sorry, man. I didn’t know.”
He looked to Brandon with turned-up palms and shrugged.
“It’s fine, dude,” Cam said. “Gina was a bitch.”
“Amen to that!” Logan added.
All of them remained silent for the remainder of the twenty-minute drive to Nate Collins’ place. Nate’s house was located on the outskirts of Phoenix and could be considered rather secluded. Dozens of cars lined the dirt road leading up to the place. Brandon realized Corbin was right, this was the party of the year.
Loud music blared through the desert sky as the crew left Logan’s truck and trudged up the dirt road. Upon their approach, Brandon took in the sight of dozens of teens in various groups drinking from red Solo cups. Several of the teens stumbled across the lawn, already having their fill of alcohol. Brandon glanced at Corbin, whose eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Dude! This is so cool.” Corbin said to Brandon, starry-eyed and awed at the sights, obviously having never been to a real party before.
Brandon agreed that it did have a certain coolness factor. Sure, he’d been to several parties in college, but none of them had quite the atmosphere of unadulterated teen fun. The bass vibrated through Brandon’s body as they crossed the threshold into the house, making him feel alive. Hot and humid air filled the interior, a result of the sheer number of people in the house. The smell of alcohol and sweat assaulted him as the crowd parted, allowing the four of them to squeeze through the hallway and into the living room. A set of large speakers boomed from near the fireplace, where a black-headed dude with glasses stood close, controlling the music with his phone.
“Where’s the beer?” Corbin asked anxiously, turning to Logan.
Logan chuckled. “Out back.”
“Cool!” Corbin launched towards the back door, leaving everyone else in the dust.
Cam laughed. “He’ll be passed out within the hour.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Brandon frowned. “I better stick with him and make sure he doesn’t' do something stupid.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Cam said, then wandered over to a couple of friends while Logan decided to follow Brandon. Just as they were about to walk outside, a blonde-haired girl wearing a short mini-skirt grabbed Logan’s shoulder.
“Can I talk to you a minute?” She smiled at Logan.
Brandon stopped and looked back, noting the stressed look on Logan’s face. He recognized the girl as the one he had seen with Logan days before after practice. Brandon decided that Logan would be occupied for a while, so he headed to the backyard to locate Corbin. After winding his way through the crowd, he found Corbin standing near the keg with a Red Solo cup in hand. His excitement was obvious.
“Hey, dude,” Corbin replied as beer spilled from the spigot into his cup.
“Here.” Brandon grabbed a cup from the table next to the keg. “Get me some too.”
After Corbin filled his own cup to the rim, he handed it to Brandon and proceeded to fill the other cup, taking it for himself. Brandon brought the beer to his lips and took a sip. Pleasantly surprised by its coldness and pleasant taste, he licked the suds floating near the top of his cup, took another swallow, and smacked his lips before turning the cup up, guzzling all of it down. Corbin took his cue and did the same.
“Fill it again.” Brandon, suddenly overcome by teenage recklessness, impulsively handed the cup to Corbin, who proceeded to fill them once again.
Three cups later, and both of them were feeling no pain.
“I feel funny.” Corbin laughed and stumbled.
“You’re drunk.” Brandon slapped him goofily on the back as he took another sip of his third cup.
“I’ve never drank before.” Corbin giggled as he stepped away from the keg.
“No shit?”
“Dude, my parents are Christian Fundamentalists.” He took another swig. “My house is like a fucking church.”
“Sounds like my ex-wife's house.” Brandon laughed, realizing that he brought up his old life again and covered his mouth. “Sorry.” He hiccupped before reaching in his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.
“You smoke?” Corbin asked in amazement.
“Smoking is cool.” He performed an exaggerated wink at Corbin as he dug deep in his pocket until he found his lighter. “You want one?”
“Hell yeah!” Corbin grabbed a smoke and stuck it in his mouth.
“Here.” Brandon flicked the lighter.
Trying to hold the flame steady proved to be a Herculean task. Still, he somehow managed to get Corbin’s cigarette lit before turning the flame to his own.
Corbin held the cigarette in his fingers, took a deep drag, and starting coughing.
Brandon laughed. “Dude, don’t inhale so much. Do it like this?”
Brandon held his between two fingers, took a slight drag, and blew smoke from his mouth. Corbin nodded and tried it again. This time he didn’t cough as much.
“Now you’re cool!” Brandon gave him another drunken wink.
Another cigarette and another beer later, Corbin looked towards the house.
“Let’s go check out the house. I saw a cute blonde chick I want to get to know.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Let’s go, man!”
Inside, the music was pounding.
“Dude! Dude!” Brandon exclaimed, turning around to put his free hand on Corbin’s shoulder. “I wanna dance!”
“I’m not dancing with you!” Corbin pulled back, a wary expression clouding his face.
“No. No. Dude.” Brandon patted Corbin’s shoulder. “I want to move. Here. Hold my beer!”
Brandon spotted the DJ near the speakers and stumbled over to him.
“Can I borrow that?” Brandon yelled in the guy’s ear, trying
to be heard above the music.
The guy gave Brandon a skeptical look.
“I want to play a song. Come on, dude.”.
The guy hesitated before handing Brandon his phone. Brandon did a quick search for the song he wanted and hit play. He smiled before sprinting to the middle of the room, stumbling and almost falling in the process. ‘Billie Jean’ by Michael Jackson began playing. Brandon started by gyrating his hips back and forth, snapping his fingers in rhythm before he stepped forward in slow motion.
Some of the teens stopped talking and turned their attention to Brandon, while others glanced at him for a moment and turned back to their friends. Brandon continued stepping before he spun around and did the Moonwalk. Several partiers laughed at the freshman making a fool of himself while others were clapping their hands to the beat and getting into Brandon’s routine. Out of the corner of his eye, Brandon saw Logan watching along with the other kids, clapping and cheering as he hit ‘en pointe’ at the end of his Moonwalk.
The clapping and whistling continued for the rest of the song before Brandon decided he wanted to finish big. Looking towards the sofa, the bright idea hit him to jump off the back, do a double-spin, then Moonwalk out of the spotlight. Following through with his plan, he climbed up on the back of the sofa and jumped. Unfortunately, his foot caught on a cushion, and with a look of surprise on his face, he fell face-down, hitting the hardwood floor with a loud smack. Several of the kids who were watching gasped while others found it hysterical. Logan tore across the room towards him. Logan’s face was a mask of worry as he bent down and shook him. Brandon flipped over, smiled, and held out his hand. Logan grabbed it, pulling him up with ease.
“Thank you, my good sir.” Brandon affected a posh British accent, adding a bow for flourish. “You are a scholar and a gentleman. Where’s my bartender? Bartender?” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, bartender? I require my ale!”
Logan laughed.
“Ah!” Brandon pointed across the room at Corbin before turning back to Logan. “My ale awaits, good sir.” He turned towards Corbin, threw his arm out dramatically, and took an exaggerated step towards him, tripping on the rug in the process.
“Woah, there.” Logan stopped laughing for a moment and caught him.
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