You Belong With Me...?

by O. Fletcher, TIM

  “No, stop, don’t open it!” I shouted

  Too late.

  He picked up a magazine and a DVD from inside and stared at them, well at least the sketchbook was forgotten.

  The slowly read the description on the back of the DVD then started laughing, loudly.

  “I knew it, I fucking knew it!” he proclaimed between laughter.

  Mentally, I was sobering up but unfortunately my body wasn’t so as I went to grab both offending items out of his hands I tripped and landed on my knees in front of Brad, which sent him into hysterics.

  As he collapsed against the bed I grabbed the magazine and DVD from his hands and threw them back into the drawer and shut it angrily. I stomped over to the window and sat, sulking, in the chair I kept there.

  After another minute or so Brad finally stopped laughing and got up from my bed and stood beside me at the window.

  “I’m sorry Tyler, I wasn’t laughing at you. I always kind of suspected you were, well you know...”

  “Gay,” I finished.

  “Yeah gay, but it doesn’t bother me. It really doesn’t, I just found it funny that I discovered your porn stash and it’s fucking hilarious that you have a DVD called ‘Backdoor Bandits’…” He started laughing again. “S-Sorry” then he giggled a little more.

  “What, like you don’t have any porn with funny names?”

  “I don’t buy porn, it’s called the Internet Tyler.” He stated condescendingly.

  Neither of us said anything for a while. I sat, glumly, reliving the horrifying moment of that drawer opening again and again. He said he doesn’t care, but that’s a drunk person talking. What will he think in the morning?

  “Well I think we should probably call it a night,” Brad stated.

  “Yeah we’re both a bit hammered.”

  We both giggled.

  “I’ll come round tomorrow to get my stuff,” he said indicating towards his PS4 and tequila.

  “I’ll be here all day, cleaning and studying so drop by whenever.”

  “Right, well I’ll be off then.”

  I stood up, about to walk him to the door, when he grabbed me in a bone-crushing hug. He felt so good. Hard muscle combined with soft skin and I immediately thought back to the night before, watching him from my window. Annddddd, now I had a boner. Luckily Brad didn’t feel it, or at least chose to ignore it and whispered in my ear, sending situation worsening shivers down my spine.

  “I meant it when I said I don’t care, Tyler.” Then he let go and walked/stumbled out of my room.

  ”Lock the door on your way out!” I yelled down after him then turned off my lights and fell into bed.

  Chapter Five

  Sunday morning came with sunlight, bright fucking sunlight. I’d obviously forgotten to close my curtains last night. The night before the only sunny day in the last friggin’ month.

  My head hurt. Yet I could still solve math equations rather well, Tequila + Tyler = Hangover. Hangover + Sunlight = BLINDING PAIN.

  I’m not exaggerating when I say that I felt like if I moved, my head would’ve exploded.

  So noon came and I had managed to shut my curtains and go back to sleep before my mother came upstairs and pounded on my door, yelling at me to get my lazy butt out of bed. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, but at that moment I wanted to push her down the stairs… however, that would’ve required getting out of bed.

  I did eventually make it out of my room, after Mom had already left for work, to guzzle ice-cold water and half a bottle of aspirin. I’d just put my glass down when there was a knock at the front door. I slowly made my way towards the door and opened it in just my boxers.

  Fuck, it was Brad. And I suddenly felt quite naked.

  “Ah, Hi,” I started.

  I saw his eyes flick over my body before he started grinning, “Hung over Tyler?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, “I hate you,” I paused, “And if you ever make me drink tequila again I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.”

  He just laughed at me, the bastard. I couldn’t believe he drank more than me and was so fucking chipper and not at all hung over.

  What the hell is wrong with him?

  “I’m pretty sure you drank that of your own free will.”

  “You talk too loud… and how in the hell did you avoid getting even a headache?”

  He shrugged, “I’ve just never had a hangover, not matter how much I drink, the worst I am the next day is tired.”

  “I hate you,” I sighed loudly, still feeling naked, “'Spose you should come in then.”

  “Thanks,” he said quietly as I let him through the door. Mmm, he smelt nice.

  I headed up the stairs before him and quickly chucked a shirt and pants on when I went in my room.

  Brad took about five minutes to pack up his stuff. I sat on my bed, trying to think of something to say. Should I mention something about my gayety or pretend him finding out last night never happened?

  Bite the bullet, Tyler. Bite the bullet.

  “So last night was…”

  “Fun,” Brad interjected,

  “Yeah, ‘spose it was wasn’t it?”

  “Stop freaking out Tyler, as well as never getting hung over I also remember everything that happens when I drink. It was okay last night and it’s still okay today. Alright? I mean it's 2017 for fucks sake.”

  I took a deep breath. I know he says he’s okay with it but surely it will affect our very new friendship in some way, right?

  “Sure, if you say so.”

  He finished packing up his PS4 and sat it tenderly on my bed before sitting down next to it.

  “So, do you like anyone at school?”

  Fuck my life.

  “No…” Wow that was convincing Tyler…

  “You totally do! Who is it? Do I know him? Is it that friend of yours, uh Damon or something?”

  “Damon? Oh you mean Damian and no, fuck no. He’s just a friend, and I don’t like anyone.”

  Not exactly a lie, I kind of more than just like Brad.

  “Okay, fine. But you know you can talk to me about it Tyler. You’re my friend and the fact you like guys really doesn’t make a difference for me. And I could totally be your wing-man if you want me to,” he said with a big grin.

  I gave him a look of contempt; “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Alright, well I have an assignment due on Tuesday that I have no idea how to do, I’d better get home and try to start”

  “Okay, um well if you need any help sign me through the window”

  Brad looked at me with a confused yet patronizing expression.

  “It’s a senior English assignment Tyler, I don’t need your help.”

  “I realize it’s a senior assignment,” I said mockingly, “I know this because I take senior English.”

  Brad looked dumbstruck.

  “Also take AP senior English” I added for good measure. “And just for that rather condescending comment, I withdraw my offer of help hmpf!”

  “I’m sorry Tyler, I just…” he couldn’t seem to find the words.

  “…think you’re better than me?” I finished for him.

  “No! It's just, I mean, I know we're the same age pretty much but you're a grade below and you're not supposed to be so much smarter than me...Christ, honestly?”

  “Honestly.”

  He sighed deeply, “Before I met you, I thought I had it all together. I mean, I know what everyone thinks of me at school – I’m the best at almost everything. I don't mean to sound up myself but, really I’m good at a lot of things. And then, I meet you and you’re such an innocent kid, like you’re mom still makes your lunch! But you’re just so much smarter and more mature than I am and it makes me feel…inadequate.”

  First off, did he just call me a kid? Mother fucker! Secondly…did he say I, Tyler Evans make him, Brad ‘Demigod’ Stevenson feel inadequate? The boy has gone muy loco!

  “One question…are you freaking insane?”


  “What?!”

  “You are good at everything Brad! Not only that but people actually like you! You think I make you feel inadequate well how do you think I feel? I have one thing, one single thing going for me and you just made me feel bad about it. I’m not rich, or hot or popular and I’m clumsy as hell. I’m not really even that good at the fucking saxophone. I’m smart - that’s it. And I make you feel inadequate? Well fuck you Brad, because how you make me feel about myself doesn’t even come close.”

  I was still fuming as Brad mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out.

  “Speak up,” I demanded.

  “I said, I think you’re pretty great”

  Huh?

  “What does that mean?”

  “Tyler, just because you’re not good at the same things I am, doesn’t mean you’re not incredible in your own right.”

  This conversation was becoming uncomfortable. He was bringing all my insecurities to the surface at a time I really didn’t want to think about them.

  “I think you should go work on that assignment,” I suggested quietly.

  He looked a little dejected at first before resigning his expression, “You’re right… I should go.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, trying to sound reassuring and convincing.

  “Yes you did. It’s okay, I mean we’re barely even friends and we’re talking about all this heavy crap, I should go.”

  What the hell did he mean by ‘barely even friends’? Two minutes ago he was trying to find out who I had a crush on and offering to be my wing-man. Total jerk.

  “Fine, you know where the door is. I’ll see you around school,” I said, struggling to hide the hurt in my voice.

  With a single nod he picked up his PS4 and walked out of my room. I listened as he plonked down my steps and heard him slam the front door behind him as he left. Then I breathed a sigh of relief.

  What just happened? We went from being friends and having had a great time last night to what? Not talking to each other or something?

  ***

  Monday morning came and I was ten minutes late to school. I hadn’t really been able to sleep the night before; the whole situation with Brad was so incredibly confusing.

  I walked into the school and every door and wall was covered with the same poster announcing the Halloween dance that was happening on Saturday night. I read over the poster and was instantly depressed. Brad would be going with Tara; God knows he’d probably never work up the balls or the enthusiasm to dump the cheating bitch.

  After that my day just seemed to get worse. Jen and Damian were both off sick, leaving me to sit alone at lunch. The worst part though was when Brad walked past whilst I was sitting at the table, he didn’t even look at me, let alone offer me a seat at his table. Barely friends indeed, I guess.

  In math there was a test that I didn’t study for (apparently it had been announced the previous Friday but I was too preoccupied thinking about Brad to listen) and I probably got a B, possibly bringing my grade down and in turn, perhaps jeopardizing my scholarship.

  Band practice was shit, I forgot my saxophone and had to sit there reading the sheet music looking like a fucking idiot and on my way home from school it poured down, drenching me and leaving me shivering as I rode my bike. What a shit of a day.

  Tuesday was better, not by much though. As I had expected, Brad didn’t come to the window the previous night and I was still pretty down about the whole incident.

  Wednesday and Thursday passed uneventfully, and then came Friday. Game day. This week however, was an away game but as I was in the band I was required to attend. Brad wasn’t on the bus that afternoon, obviously he drove and I’d bet my virgin ass that Tara was getting cozy with the passenger seat.

  As I sat in the stands after our usual performance of our national anthem I was thinking about the weird and tentative relationship between Brad and I. I mean, I still wanted to be friends and I don’t think he’s that much of a jerk to completely stop associating with someone over a stupid little tiff. I thought that maybe after the game I could ask him for a ride home and we’d talk on the way back. Only if Tara wasn’t going to be in the car, of course.

  So I watched the rest of the game with increased optimism, cheering whenever we stole the ball and cheering even louder when it was Brad that did something that gained the advantage.

  Half an hour later the game was drawing to a close and we were in the lead! It was 18 – 12 with only five minutes left on the clock. Brad currently had the ball and was heading up towards the opposing goal then something on the sideline caught my attention. It was Tara, for some reason she had her back turned towards the game. What could be so important that she couldn’t keep her attention on the game her boyfriend was in? I leaned forward a little to see what was occupying her interest. She was talking, no! flirting with a boy in the front row. He looked familiar, probably a senior at our school…

  Oh hell no! That’s the guy she’s cheating on Brad with!

  Has she no fucking shame? Brad is about to walk off the field at any second and she’s down there displaying her goods to her fuck buddy. Have I mentioned I hate her? I hate her.

  Shit! The end-of-game whistle brought my eyes back to the field to see our school’s team high five-ing each other and hugging with big smiles on their faces. I watched Brad closely, hoping he wouldn’t notice Tara until she had the decency to cease and desist. But it was like she was in a world of her own, how could she have not heard the whistle? Her face was positioned only inches from the hockey guy’s and Brad was now walking towards the sideline with a stone-cold look on his face.

  “Tara!” I could hear him yell above the sounds of the crowd.

  That got her attention. Her head whipped around to see Brad’s death stare being directed at her.

  Unfortunately from my place in the stands I couldn’t hear the rest of what happened, but I could tell Brad was pissed and Tara was trying to act as though she hadn’t done anything wrong. The two argued for a few minutes before Brad stormed off to the locker rooms. I wanted to follow him and make sure he was all right, but I really didn’t know where we stood at the moment. Would he welcome me or tell me to fuck off?

  I waited in the stands hoping to see him come out of the locker room but after fifteen minutes the crowd had dispersed and there was still no sign of him. Shit, the bus would be leaving really soon so I either had to find Brad like now and beg him to give me a ride home or run and try and make the school bus.

  The thought of riding on the bus surrounded by my (most unhygienic) band members wondering how Brad was feeling was, to say the least, unsatisfactory. I had to find him.

  I jumped up and walked swiftly down to the locker room, I knocked loudly and waited but no reply came so I opened the door and let myself in. I quickly looked around but found no one inside. Maybe Brad had slipped out without me noticing? I then went to the parking lot and found Brad’s car still parked, lonely now that all the parents were gone.

  Okay, so he wasn’t in the locker room and he hadn’t left – where the fuck was he?

  I walked back from the parking lot around the back of the stands intending to check if he was talking to his team mates before they got on the bus when something caught my eye. Under the stands I saw a shadowed figure slumped against the metal supports.

  “Brad?”

  The figured sighed loudly, sounding annoyed. Yep, that was Brad.

  “Yes, Tyler.”

  “I saw what happened with Tara, are you all right?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Okay, so what are you doing hiding under here?”

  “It seemed like a place she wouldn’t look for me.”

  “Yeah, wouldn’t want to risk getting dirty.”

  He laughed at that, it felt great to hear that again.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Talk about what? How she was blatantly parading her little plaything in front of me for the whole sc
hool to see?”

  I huffed in annoyance, “Why don’t you just dump her? She’s a bitch, you barely even like her and she’s cheating on you – why stay with someone like that?”

  He stayed quiet for a while before answering, “Because I’m afraid of what will happen if I do…”

  “Do you mean with your father?”

  He looked at me with a puzzled expression, before his eyes widened and he nodded “Yeah, as I said she makes things easier with him. If I’m dating someone I don’t have to be at home as often, hell he expects me to be banging everything that moves. Plus, he likes her…”

  “You could just, not tell your dad?” or start dating me instead…

  “Ha! She’d probably call him and complain.”

  “Well ‘it’s a Goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation,’” I said in my best cowboy voice.

  Brad cocked an eyebrow “What’s that out of?”

  I grinned sheepishly, “…Brokeback Mountain”

  He laughed again, I was glad I could do at least that for him.

  “So, I’m sorry about what happened on the weekend,” he said to me.

  “It’s okay, I’m sorry too. Just got a bit too much for me with the hangover.”

  We both chuckled a bit.

  “Yeah, so we’re good?”

  I sat down next to him, our thighs just barely touching and I shivered as my back made contact with the cold metal.

  “I’m being a little presumptuous but I really need you to give me a lift home, please?”

  “Bus already left?”

  “Yeah, about five minutes ago.”

  “Good, means she’s gone.”

  “Yep, we’re all alone,” I stated, suddenly feeling a little bit nervous.

  Brad turned his head to look at me, my breathing hitched and I gulped. I could see his gorgeous blue eyes in the moonlight, staring at me. I brought my eyes up to his and felt an electric current surge through me. What was going on?

  “Yeah, we could be the only person left in this whole school.” He noted, “you never did tell me who you like Tyler,”