'TYLER – 12:00PM. BUS STOP NEAR MY HOUSE. B THERE.'
The message was rather demanding – I liked that.
I dressed in some casual house clothes and picked what I was going to wear for my afternoon with Brad. I settled with black jeans and a blue long sleeved shirt.
I spent the time until 11 o’clock reading, well attempting too before I got up and started preening. First to come on were socks, then jeans and a nice belt with a superman buckle (I refused to subdue my inner nerd.) I put on my shirt then went into the bathroom to attempt to do something with my hair.
I borrowed some of my moms mousse and styled it into an ‘it looks good but I didn’t really try’ kind of ‘do. Unfortunately, nothing could be done about the size of my ears. Jen told me they make me look adorable like a little kid, which really wasn’t what I wanted today Oh well…
11:45am - I grabbed my wallet, put $50 in it (my whole allowance for the week – eek!) and shoved it in my back pocket. I put my chapstick in my front pocket then rolled up the sleeves on my shirt.
11:50am – I took my nicest coat from the rack, it was black wool, thigh length (convenient for when things unexpectedly popped up) and quite lovely. It originally belonged to my father many years ago but would be considered a ‘classic’ style. I put my cell and keys into my coat pockets and left my room with my shoes in my hand.
In the kitchen I drank a glass of water and wrote my mom a quick note telling her I was going out and that I’d be home sometime before dinner.
I stood at the front door with my shoes on waiting for the time to hit 11:55am. It took about five minutes to walk around the block to the bus stop and I didn’t want to be (more of) a loser and arrive early.
Finally, the clock ticked to 11:55am and I stepped out of the front door of my house and walked as casually as possible to the bus stop with my heart in my throat.
I took exactly five minutes to walk around to the bus stop and I sat nervously in the shelter waiting for Brad. I didn’t really see Brad as the kind of guy that would take the bus anywhere let alone to the city. But, I’m sure this day was going to be full of surprises.
12:05pm – I wasn’t just nervous; I was fucking jiggling. My right leg was like a one limb epileptic seizure. God, I hoped Brad wasn’t going to stand me up. Oh shut up Tyler I told myself. He was five fucking minutes late, anywhere up to half an hour was still good timing for a teenage boy.
It just ticked 12:11pm on my phone when a bright red, recent model BMW pulled up beside me. The driver's side door opened and QB Topman (as I’d dubbed my fantasy Brad *wink wink*) emerged from the rather flashy car. Without a word he shut the door, walked around his car and sat next to me in the bus shelter.
He was dressed in well fitting denim wash jeans that probably cost more than my house, a sky blue dress shirt with a black leather jacket over the top. His hair was perfect; his smile as he approached me was perfect. Brad Stevenson was just perfect, fucking jackass.
After he sat down neither of us spoke for a minute. The tension covered every inch of space in and around us. I was almost about to make a comment about the weather (looks like rain…) before Brad turned towards me and held out his hand.
“Hello, I’m Brad Stevenson.”
I was admittedly a little stunned at first, took me a moment to recover before introducing myself right back. “Tyler Evans, how do you do?”
“Pleasure to finally actually meet you. Hmm, your voice is deeper than I imagined.” He smiled like a hyena at his own comment.
Asshole.
“Sorry to disappoint,” I said trying to sound offended, but honestly if he smiled at me like that again I’d forgive him for killing my mother.
He laughed a little. I smiled sheepishly. Then it was awkward.
“Looks like rain,” I said before my mind could stop my mouth.
He looked at me with one eyebrow raised, “Did you just make conversation about the weather, Tyler?”
“Yes, well it seemed appropriate since it, ah rains a lot here.”
“If I didn’t already know you were a genius I’d have to think you’re the biggest idiot ever to grace my presence.”
“And if I didn’t already know you’re not a complete dick, I’d call you one.”
Oh shit, don’t think about Brad’s dick, don’t think about Brad’s dick, don’t think about… fuck.
“Right, well I suppose we should get going, if we ever plan to make it back by a reasonable hour,” Brad said breaking my train of thought.
“Yeah I suppose so.” Or we could accidentally get stuck in the city, have to get a hotel room and then do naughty things all night…
Well, that was a nice fantasy and all but unfortunately two factors came in the way of anything remotely like that happening. One, Brad is completely straight (jeez how Medieval *rolls eyes*) and two, we just pulled up outside Tara’s house. Fuckity fuck.
After we pulled up she stood at the curb without moving. Brad got the hint after a few seconds and got out to open the door for her. Who the fuck did this girl think she was, royalty? I know it’s meant to be gallant and proper for guys to do that but she just made it look pretentious.
After she settled behind me in the car, Brad returned to his seat and made quick introductions before we headed off towards the big city.
Forty-five minutes of driving and a further twenty minutes of looking for parking later we all emerged from the car and stood awkwardly, waiting for someone to take the lead as to where to go and what to do.
Tara huffed from behind me, “Well I have a salon appointment, I’ll meet you outside Chichi’s Coffee at 4 o’clock, okay?”
“Okay, babe,” Brad answered automatically.
Tara kissed him on the cheek and stalked off to her salon. I kinda hoped the treatment fucked up and all her hair fell out.
Brad and I walked in silence for a few minutes, heading towards some department stores.
I did a double take when Brad said “She’s cheating on me,”
“What?”
“Yeah, she doesn’t know that I know. But she is, with one of the guys on the hockey team.”
Who the hell in their right mind would cheat on this man?
“Are you going to break up with her?” I asked, trying not to sound hopeful.
”I don’t know, I don’t love her anymore but having her around makes things easier with my father. He actually likes her, for some reason.”
“God, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry Brad.”
“I kinda feel like it's my fault though.”
“You cannot blame yourself for her actions! She's a cheating hoe-bag and that is not on you!”
“She obviously wasn't getting what she needed from me, so she went elsewhere,” he replied cryptically.
“What more could she possibly want from you?” I said, adding you're perfect, to myself.
“I lied, Tyler,” he said almost annoyed with me for having to say it out loud.
“About what?”
“God, you can be dumb. I’m a virgin, I never slept with her.”
“What? Why not?”
I was honestly flabbergasted.
“It just never felt right with her. You know? I know everyone these days thinks that it's no big deal and you should lose it as quickly as possible... but, I just couldn't. Not with Tara.”
“I get it, I guess,” I replied.
He scoffed, “What, you don’t want your first time to be with someone you at least like?” He paused, “I know you Tyler, you’re intelligent and sensitive, you’d want it to be special,” he said condescendingly.
He was right though; I did want my first time to be special. Not in the back alley of some sleazy bar or with some fuck buddy I find at school or college. More specifically, I wanted it to be Brad, and that realization was terrifying.
No one said anything for a while, unfortunately we weren’t good enough friends yet that it could be a comfortable silence. We walked slowly, trying to think of somethin
g – anything! – to say that wasn’t lame.
“Ah, that’s the book store I wanted to go to,” Brad said.
“Oh thank God,” I answered a little too quickly. He just gave me a strange look.
“So what book is it that you’re looking for?”
“Just something I was recommended,”
Okay, was he trying to be purposely vague or just annoying?
“And this recommendation is called…”
He sighed quite audibly before finally answering, “The Linnet Bird”
“What’s it about? And you couldn't just find it online?”
“I needed an excuse to come into the city, besides I kind of love book stores.”
Needed an excuse to spend time with me? I wondered.
I laughed a little, “Preaching to the choir, man.” I added, “If it's any good, I might have to read it after you’re done, if you don’t mind,” then I gave him a smile.
He just smiled back and I nearly tripped over my feet.
After half an hour of browsing the 3-story bookstore and refusing to ask the staff for help Brad finally found and paid for the book he was looking for.
We decided it was time to have lunch, well whatever a meal was called at 2 o’clock in the afternoon. We went into a nearby cafe, sat down and quickly chose what we wanted to eat. Brad ordered a beer with his meal, I looked at him incredulously when he pulled out a fake ID.
He saw me looking at his drink, “Sorry, did you want one?”
It snapped me out of reverie, “What? No, I don’t want to get arrested.”
He snorted with laughter, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never had my ID questioned, no one says ‘no’ to this face,” he said as he pointed to his stupidly attractive mug.
“Laugh it up, but no one on the planet would believe I’m 21, I barely even look my actual age!”
“So that means you wouldn’t dare come out to a club with me on the weekend?” He asked mockingly.
NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Clubbing with Brad? He’d be all drunk and in the mood for dancing. I might’ve even been able to cop a feel and get away with it. Fuck my life.
“Not unless you know someone who makes fake ID’s, really cheap fake ID’s.”
“Actually…” he started, “never mind, just keep next Saturday night free, after the dance ok?”
He wasn’t actually going to get me a fake ID was he?
“Okay, I’ll make sure to put my overly active social life on hold for one night.”
He smirked at me. I melted a little.
“Well, we’ve got an hour and a half until we head back, what would you like to do?”
It was my turn to grin.
“Brad, how do you feel about lazer tag?”
Four rounds of lazer tag, the righteous feeling of winning a bet, $50 extra in my pocket and an hour and a half later, Brad and I stood outside ChiChi’s Coffee waiting for his girlfriend to show up. She was twenty minutes late, of course, and when she finally arrived she gave us a look of indignation, like we were the ones that had kept her waiting.
One the way back I sat, cramped, in the back seat of Brad’s car. Everyone was silent, the radio was the only thing that broke the tension. Taylor Swifts ‘You Belong With Me’ came on and I couldn’t help but escape into my fantasy world where this was Brad and my song as a couple. Seemed to fit I think. I was rudely interrupted during the best part of my fantasy (QB Topman needed medical attention and I was the sports specialist to really give it to him, if you know what I mean...)
I was hard and Tara had just jumped out of Brad’s car, I now had to get up (hehe) and move to the front seat. THANK GOD I wore a long coat today.
A short time later we arrived outside my house. Today was just so much like a date (minus the girlfriend hitching a ride with us part) that I was almost tempted to ask him to walk me to the door. I jumped out of the car and was about to lean through the window to say goodbye when I saw that he had in fact gotten out of his car and was, I shit you not, about to walk me to my door.
I was bewildered, scared and a little giddy. Was it too much to ask for a kiss goodnight?
He walked beside me towards the door. “I had a… fun time today Brad. It was good getting to know you using vocals instead of pens.”
He chuckled, “yeah me too… and don’t forget we’re on for next Saturday night.”
God, that sounded like a date again didn’t it? We’d reached the door by this point – should I invite him in?
“Yeah of course.” Fuck it, you only live once, “Do you, uh, have anything exciting on tonight?”
“Nope, I was just going to stay home and watch TV.”
Say it Tyler, you big fucking pussy. Just ask!
“Did you wanna come in? My moms at work tonight and I know where she keeps the vodka.” I said, trying to sound as un-I-want-to-fuck-you as possible.
The look on his face told me he was deliberating. I wasn’t sure myself if it was a great idea, but more than likely for different reasons than Brad. I am what you would call an 'honest drunk'.
His expression changed suddenly to one with a smile.
“Sure, why not? I’ll just take my car home, grab my PS4 and be back in like, ten?”
“Awesome, the door will be unlocked – my rooms’ the attic.”
He went back to his car and drove home whilst I madly dashed around my room trying to make it look at least a little bit respectable. I hid my hard copy porn, shoved my clothes in the laundry basket and made sure my bed didn’t smell like the backroom of a sex club. I went downstairs and grabbed the vodka, orange juice and chocolate (this was probably the point when this became a bad habit... but at least I wasn’t drinking alone this time!)
I changed my clothes to something a bit more casual, but still better than my normal house clothes and put my sketching pad (which included a rather true-to-life depiction of what I witnessed Brad doing to himself the previous night) behind my TV for safekeeping.
I’d just finished when Brad trundled up the stairs holding his PS4 system and bottle of tequila.
“Is tequila a good idea?.”
He just smirked. “Tequila is never a good idea,” he said cheekily.
As an afterthought he asked, “Do you have limes?”
I looked at him like he was an alien. Do I have limes? Who in the hell has limes just lying around? It’s not like scurvy is the biggest health problem facing the nation.
“Uh, no.”
“Lemons?”
“No.”
“Tangerines?”
What. The. Fuck.
“No,” I just shook my head and scoffed, rich people! “I think we have oranges that aren’t quite ripe yet so they’re still sour, will they do?”
“Perfectly, um you do have salt don’t you?”
My God, now he thinks I’m a peasant.
“Yes, Brad, I have salt.” I replied rolling my eyes.
I went down to the kitchen to cut up the oranges and grab the salt whilst Brad started setting up the gaming system. I came back to find him holding my sketchbook. Why the hell had I thought behind the TV was a good hiding spot?
I quickly snatched it off him. “I was wondering where that had gotten to, haha,” I said trying not to sound suspicious.
“Oh, I found it behind the TV when I went to plug this in,” he indicated towards his PS4.
I shoved it in my porn drawer.
“Well glad you did, haven’t been able to find it.” I said with a nervous smile.
Brad went back to what he was doing as I poured us both a starter drink. I was half way through mine by the time he’d finished, and I was already feeling it. I’m such a light weight.
I fucking giggled as I handed him his drink.
“Tyler, are you already drunk?”
“No, don’t be ridiculous.” Then I giggled again.
“Oh my God, you are! You’ve had half a drink!”
“Oh shut up Brad, at least I’m a cheap date.”
He just
shook his head.
“How about a shot then?” He said whilst grinning sadistically.
“Might as well,” I said and resigned myself to a night of drunken stupidity.
“I love being a corrupting influence on a minor,” Brad said jokingly as he stuck his tongue out.
“Not a minor,” I corrected.
“I thought you said you were a junior?” He asked looking genuinely confused.
He lined up the shots and we threw them back. I grimaced and held my nose for a second waiting for the horrific taste of tequila to dissipate.
“I am, but when I was a kid my mom and I had to move around a lot after my dad died and I sort of fell, like, really behind. I mean, I couldn't read in the second grade, so my mom made the decision to hold me back a year so I could catch up properly.”
Holy shit that tequila went straight to my head.
“But you're so smart now, couldn't you just jump back up to where you are supposed to be?” Brad asked, still reeling a little.
“I thought about it, but my friends are in eleventh grade with me, ya know? And I'm not really in all that much of a hurry. Fuck it, ya know?” I slurred.
Brad laughed, “So when did you turn 18?”
“August 31th ...no, 31st,” I announced, pleased as punch that I was able to correct myself.
“July 8th, for me,” he countered.
I held up my drink, “Well, happy fucking adulthood to us!”
Two hours later, Brad and I were fucking slizzared. We were attempting to play some sort of racing game but kept crashing into the walls and restarting every 30-ish seconds. We were also having a great time, laughing our asses off and talking uninhibitedly.
After another five ‘races’ or so I gave up, softly threw down the controller and fell back to lay on my carpet.
“I give up, you win,” I said drunkenly
“I’m pretty sure neither of us won,” Brad replied, which sent us both into a giggling fit.
Once we’d regained our composure Brad unsteadily stood up. “Hey, where’d you put that sk-sketchbook. I wanna see your drawings!” He already had one hand gripped on the handle of the drawer by the time I realized what he’d said. “It was this one!” he said to himself as I crawled across the floor in an attempt to stop him from opening the drawer.
You Belong With Me...? Page 4