by P. Anastasia
I nodded, recalling that the teacher had mentioned something about Brian being from… Montana?
“You know somewhere close by where we could grab a burger?” He tucked my purple pen above his ear. “The school cafeteria sucks and I’ve only seen pizza and Chinese places around so far.”
I cocked an eyebrow and stared at him blankly. New burger dives popped up almost every day in our city. He’d have to close his eyes to not see one.
Right as I opened my mouth to say something sarcastic, my good old brain stopped me. Wait. He wasn’t actually asking me about a burger place. He was… asking me out… in some weird way. I had clearly heard him say “we” could grab a burger, not “I.”
“Uh…” I stammered, trying to think of a place where we could go. “I know of a few,” was all I managed to get out. Burgers weren’t my favorite but, geeze, he seemed nice. Not to mention really cute. His messy, satiny brown hair complimented his eyes. And his modest grin.
Dang it. Mom would kill me if she caught me alone with a boy before I was old enough to drive.
“Great!” He ruffled a hand through his hair. Brian messed with his hair a lot. “Wanna hit one up after school?”
My chest tightened with excitement and I tried to make my reply not sound too eager. “I’ll have to ask my mom.” I felt dumb saying it.
“Oh. Okay. Whatever.” He grabbed his books out of the metal basket below his desk and shoved them into his black backpack. “Let me know what she says, okay? I’ll catch up with you outside after class. See ya, Al.”
I meant to wave goodbye as he jogged out of the room, but all I could do was stare.
“It’s Alice…”
. . .
The smell of frying oil and grilling burgers saturated the building. My stomach grumbled. We were seated across from each other in a bright red booth. Someone’s nearby brownie sundae caught my eye and I sighed longingly.
College students, likely from the neighboring university, were piled into the place. A family with two little kids sat behind us. The toddlers bounced around on the benches, making my seat vibrate, until their mother scolded them and they sat down. Finally, a bleach blonde waitress who looked barely out of high school herself, came by and introduced herself as Jennifer.
“Welcome to J’s Grill. Is this going to be on one check or…”
“Two,” I replied before she’d gotten the second part out. I grinned at Brian.
We both ordered sweet tea and Jennifer brought them to our table in a flash.
I sucked tea through a straw while grazing over the menu. Surprisingly, Mom had been quite cool about the whole “Mind if the new boy and I grab dinner before I come home tonight?” thing. Though I’d forgotten to tell Sam until Brian and I were halfway to J’s. I sent her a text earlier while we were waiting for a table.
She had seemed heartbroken at first to know I wouldn’t be joining her. The heartbreak had only lasted until she’d brewed up a silly motivational text about how lucky I was to be going out with Brian and how she was “missing out” on a date with the next Tom Cruise. I had to roll my eyes and stifle a laugh. She was so 80’s it hurt.
Age difference aside, if I squinted and tilted my head, I could see a slight resemblance. Cruise was so last century, though.
Besides, it was in no way a “date.” Still, spending time with Brian one-on-one was making me super anxious.
“So, what are you getting?” Brian asked, peeking at me from around the side of his tall menu.
My purse chirped. Another text from Sam. I quickly silenced my phone and smiled apologetically at him.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Probably fish and chips. I don’t like burgers much.”
“Oh?” Brian lowered his menu. “Then why did you want to come here?”
“I figured I could get something different. Didn’t want to be rude.” I looked at him and a little smile tugged at his lips. Butterflies started twirling in my stomach.
Stop it, butterflies. Stop it.
“Aw, that was really nice of you. Tell you what. I’ll get whatever you’re having. If you like it, it must be okay.” He slid his menu to the edge of the table and leaned back.
Jennifer swung back around and pulled a little notepad out of her apron. The back cover had a collage of sparkly rose stickers on it.
“So, what are you having, hun?” She looked at me and clicked her pen.
“Fish and chips, please. Waffle fries.”
“Anything else?”
I shook my head.
“And you, sweetheart?”
“I’ll have what she’s having.” Brian winked at me and I sunk down in my seat.
Jennifer made for the kitchen and I propped my elbows up on the table and rested my head in my hands. “You didn’t just order the same stuff as me to impress me or something, right?”
Brian laughed. “Hey, if I haven’t impressed you by now, I may never.”
I tried to hide a chuckle. Oh my God, he was cocky, but in a charming, I’m-just-trying-to-make-you-laugh kind of way.
I liked it.
“I’m not a picky eater anyway,” he added. “I’m so hungry, fried fish is as good as grilled cow at this point.” He took off his leather jacket, rolled it into a ball and shoved it into the corner of the booth. I liked the mossy-green t-shirt he had on underneath.
Movie and sports memorabilia pieces dangled in every nook and cranny of the place. Posters, jerseys, autographed celebrity photos and even some license plates from different states were hanging on the walls. Brian seemed quite entranced.
I let him take it all in for a few minutes until I finally worked up the nerve to ask him a question that had been burning in my mind for days.
“So, what is it you’re always writing in that notebook of yours?”
He jerked his head toward me, stunned by the question.
“If… you don’t mind me asking?”
“Oh… it’s nothing. Just some… uh… comics I’m working on.” He poked at his silverware, rearranging the fork and knife. “They’re not that great, though.”
I leaned closer. An artist?
“Can I see them? Please? I promise I won’t laugh or anything. I love artwork.”
He shifted in his seat and wrinkled his lips. “Well, uh…”
“Please?” I scooted closer and smiled.
“Aw, alright.” He unzipped his backpack. “But you promised not to laugh,” he said, pointing a finger at me.
Out came a stack of notebooks. I had no idea he owned so many. I’d only seen one at a time in class. He peeled one covered in navy blue off the top and passed it to me, first prying it open to a page somewhere near the middle. There, a burly, wolf-like humanoid had a flailing, tigerish cat in a ferocious death grip. The lines of the drawings were thick and rigid and the image really put the “graphic” in “graphic novel.”
“How old are you, Brian?” I leaned down to take a closer look at the details.
“Fifteen. Why?”
It looked as though he might pull the notebook away from me so I put down a finger and stopped him so I could take it in further.
The fur on the back of the wolf-man’s neck was beautifully drawn. I’d never personally known anyone who could create such detailed original art.
“No reason. I would never have imagined a fifteen-year-old could do something like this. This looks amazing. Um… Is that a severed arm in his other hand?”
“Yeah. Do you think it’s good?” He looked surprised.
I nodded without saying a word and carefully turned the page to find another image of the hulking wolf-man. This time, he was pictured howling up at the moon while a shadowy skull looked on from high in the sky. “These are gorgeous. Do you have more?”
A big toothy grin spread across Brian’s face and he excitedly slipped another notebook from out of the pile and slid it over to me. This one had a familiar maroon cover. I recalled it from history class.
My purple pen was still tucked into the spirals on the binding.
“This one is my newest,” he said, opening the cover to show me the first page. It was a masked man wearing an old-style tunic with a hooded cape blowing in the wind; tribal designs adorned his costume. His hood had a pair of deer antlers protruding from it, and he was holding a long bow. A lot like Robin Hood, but with some serious modern super hero flare. I’d never seen anything like it.
“So, who is this guy?” I asked. The tribal designs alone probably could have put some well-known artists out of work.
“He’s a sort of anti-hero who I’ve been developing for a while. This is the first full profile I’ve done of him but he’s missing his pet raven. I need to do some research on bird anatomy before I can attempt that. Anyway, this guy can’t seem to decide if his heart is set on doing good things for people or just getting by and getting what he wants out of life. I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not but…”
“I think he’s neat.” I traced one of the antlers with my fingertip, feeling the bold lines of color my purple pen had left behind.
“I still haven’t quite pounded out a name. I’m somewhere between Deer Heart, or The Stag, maybe.”
I laughed. “The Stag? Boy, that’s not manly in any way, now is it? So what does this guy do for a living when he’s not in costume?”
“He’s an elementary school science teacher.” Brian’s voice lowered. “And you said you wouldn’t laugh.” He frowned.
My own smile melted. “Oh, I didn’t mean to, Brian. I’m sorry.” I closed the notebook and lifted it close to my chest. “I think these drawings are amazing. I really do.” I brushed my fingers affectionately over the cover and then I handed it back to him. “Please, don’t be offended. I didn’t mean it. I swear.”
Jennifer came over with our food and set the baskets in front of us. “Anything you need?” she asked, looking at me first and then at Brian. “How about you, hun?” We shook our heads in unison.
Brian looked over his plate and picked up a waffle fry. I grabbed the ketchup bottle from the end of the table and squirted a little red mountain into the corner of my basket. Jennifer left.
Brian raised an eyebrow. “Having any fries with your ketchup?”
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes and passed the bottle to him. “Hey. Why don’t you tell me about your parents?” I dunked another fry and shoved it into my mouth, then wiped my greasy fingers on a napkin.
He poked at a piece of fish with his fork.
“My mom got a job as a secretary at a law firm downtown. That’s why we moved here.”
“And your dad?”
He nibbled at another fry and then sighed, looking away from me.
“Military. I’ve grown up in different schools almost every year. My dad was a real hard-ass, always getting on me for acting out and not studying enough. I couldn’t stand being tutored by strangers and I hated being left alone with babysitters.”
“Sorry to hear that. Has he lightened up at all?”
“He was killed overseas three years ago. A terrorist group snuck through and bombed them in the middle of the night. Damn cowards.”
My appetite waned and I dropped a piece of fish back into the basket. I didn’t like it when people swore but I could only begin to imagine how much pent up anger he had bottled up over the attack. “Oh. I’m… really sorry.”
“It doesn’t bother me anymore.”
“How could not having a father not bother you? Wait. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. Never mind.”
He picked at his food and crumpled over in his seat.
“He was disappointed in me because I wasn’t like him. While I was growing up, all he’d ever do was complain about how I’d never be cut out for the military. To him, the military was everything.”
I sipped my tea, trying to quickly come up with a thoughtful reply—anything to save the conversation. If I’d known him better, now would have been the perfect time to reach across the table and take his hand—and believe me, I thought about it—but that would have been weird. Right? We didn’t know each other that well. Maybe he was one of those people who hated being touched. Maybe I had no business trying.
“I think you’re an amazing artist, Brian. You’ll do great things. Years from now I’ll see your comics in stores and remember how I knew that boy in high school. How I sat down and had fish and chips with him.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely.”
He smiled. It was forced, but it made my heart feel a little less heavy.
Chapter 5
“How did it go?” Sam asked in a sing-song voice, bumping her shoulder into mine.
“Horrible.” I looked down at my shoes and kicked a pile of yellow leaves off the sidewalk.
“Why?” She exaggerated a frown. “What did you do?”
“What did I do? What kind of friend are you?” I folded my arms, tucking my gloved hands into my elbows. The chilly air made me shiver.
“Well, what happened?”
“I brought up his parents.”
“Okay. And?”
“His dad’s dead.”
“Oh nooo!” Sam groaned then imitated stabbing herself in the heart. She straightened back up as soon as she saw the bus turning the corner. “You’ll be lucky if he ever talks to you again,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.
“Thanks for the encouragement.”
Sam shrugged. “I want a shot at him, too.” She giggled. “If things don’t work out with Brent.”
All I could do was roll my eyes while the bus pulled up. We hopped on and took our usual seats in the front. Brian wouldn’t be getting on for a few more stops and my poor heart was already atwitter. I glanced across the aisle and accidentally made eye contact with Eric—one of the boys who had been picking on me. I looked away.
By now, he and Stanley—who both used to sit in the far back—had become accustomed to sitting in the front, across from us. Brian had made it very clear his first week that he wouldn’t tolerate it any other way. He was a little older and a little taller—more than enough to scare them into submission. They had never been very high up in the pecking order in school, just high enough to pick on quiet girls like me.
But when Brian got on the bus that day, things went a little differently.
“You said not to sit in the back anymore,” Stanley whined, looking at an equally bewildered Eric for help.
“Well, I’ve changed my mind. Get going.” Brian motioned toward the empty row in the far back.
“This isn’t the time or place, boys,” the bus driver snarled, veering her head toward them. “I don’t care where you sit but you had better do it now!” She spoke through clenched teeth as she reached to jerk back the lever that closed the door.
The two boys shot up from their seats and bolted across the aisle into an open row behind us. Brian plopped down in the front, across from me.
Sam’s eyes were wide and wild like she might explode from excitement at any second.
Brian didn’t say a thing during the entire ride. He just sat there, peacefully staring out the window beside him. Sam and I stayed quiet, glancing over at him every now and then. The same part of me that had wanted to take his hand the other day now wanted me to get up from my aisle seat and slide onto the empty seat next to him.
I didn’t.
At school, Brian lagged behind us in the parking lot, showing not a sliver of fear about being late for class. I wanted to say “Hi.” I really did. But by the time I reached and opened up my locker, and gained the courage to turn and finally say it, he was at the opposite end of the hall. We didn’t have history together until the afternoon, so it would be a while before we’d see each other again. I closed the locker door, spinning the combination lock a few times for good measure.
“Alice!”
I almost leapt out of my skin. Sam let out a high-pitched squeal.
“Oh my G
od, what?”
She was bouncing up and down in place flapping a bright-green flyer.
“Look! Look! Look!” She waved the paper back and forth like it was on fire. I couldn’t see what it was.
I put a hand on my hip, narrowed my eyes and stared at her. She stopped jumping in place long enough to show it to me.
Freshman Holiday Dance, it read. Sam pointed a finger at the line below it. Better than a stocking full of coal! Buy one ticket, get one FREE! Her fingers trembled with excitement.
“Can we go? Please? Pretty please?”
“We?” I sighed and glanced past Sam. Brian was nowhere in sight. Only a handful of students still loitered in the hall.
“Well, yeah. You and me. Unless you and your boyfriend…”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I clenched a fist, locking my knees. “Sam, I’m fourteen years old. If my dad heard you talking like this, he’d ban me from ever seeing Brian again.”
“He’s one to talk.” She blew a raspberry. “You haven’t seen him in forever.”
“Sam, please.”
“Really! He left your mom years ago and you’re worried about what he’s going to say about you having a boyfriend? I’d be more worried about your mom than—”
“He works a lot, okay? And even Mom might… Ugh.” I growled.
Years after it had happened, bringing up the divorce still made my stomach turn. I wanted to curl up into a ball under a bridge and cry my eyes out. Maybe Dad wasn’t in my life as much as he could have been. Or… at all anymore for that matter. But that didn’t mean he had stopped loving me or wanting to spend time with me. He was just too busy with work. And his new wife…
“Sorry.” Sam hung her head and scuffed her shoe against the floor. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”
I took the paper from her hand. The dance was right before Christmas break—exactly three weeks from today. Ever since elementary school, all Sam had ever dreamed about was going to a real school dance. This was her first chance and she was psyched. I, on the other hand, could have thought of a dozen other ways to spend my time. But it wasn’t about me right now. I couldn’t let my best friend down.