Lasts

by C. L. Matthews

  Like the good friend I am, I smile encouragingly, unwilling to make her stay home when I’ll be at the dance, but she better bet her ass I’ll be showing Aster just how gentlemanly he’ll be with her.

  “Y-Yes,” she finishes excitedly. Her eyes are glossed over with affection.

  I want to grab both Brady and Aster by the balls and string them up for taking my girl away. For giving her something I can’t, something I’m too much of a pussy to give her myself. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “Let’s go, Lele,” I nearly beg, my heart aching something fierce with the knowledge that she’s going to the dance with some prick.

  “Um, okay?” Her silent questions are screaming at me.

  Her gaze dart between Brady and I several times before she finally gives up. I know there will be questions later, ones I’m not sure how to answer. When did this become so hard and confusing? When do I make it stop?

  Finally, I peer at Brady. I’m uncomfortable as fuck. “Text me?” I ask none too awkwardly. Everything, when she’s involved, makes me awkward.

  “Sure thing,” he says, his gaze doing the same dance Leia’s did.

  Leia drives me home in silence. We carpool every day and take turns driving. Today, it’s silent. I’m not sure if she’s mad, giving me the silent treatment, or the most likely, mulling over the entire situation she witnessed.

  “Not going to talk?” I muse, trying to clear the air. Turning down the One Direction song she has blasting in the background, I hope she’ll give me the attention needed to have this conversation. We’re never this quiet. Well, Leia is never this quiet. She’s always filling the empty air with music, musings, or random things that make no sense.

  “Are… you two… y’know…” she fumbles for the question. “Y’know?” she tries again, making me laugh. After several moments, she smacks my chest. “Don’t be an ass, Brax.”

  “It’s just adorable. You can’t even say, dating,” I tease her, poking her side.

  She jumps, slamming on the gas pedal, making me thrust backward a bit.

  “Fuck! Brax! You can’t do that!” she squeals, adjusting herself.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” I tease, and I can’t. Whenever I have the opportunity to touch her, I do.

  “So, Mr. Avoider… are you? Y’know, dating?” She eyes me for a moment before biting her lower plump lip. “I didn’t know Brady was … into guys.” My guess, she wanted to say gay but refrained.

  When we get to her house, we sit in the driveway while I mull over it. It’s not my story, and I’m not even sure he’s in fact into guys.

  “I don’t know if he is. We’re just going as friends.” It’s true. I’m not into guys, no matter what the world thinks.

  “Oh,” she muses. “Does that upset you?”

  I chuckle. “Not at all. I’m not into him.”

  We exit the car and head for her door, spotting Sy on the way in. Sy’s giving me his usual I hate you glare, and I’m silently stabbing him in his groin fifty times.

  “Let’s watch Supernatural?” she beams, nearly hopping. She’s in love with Cas.

  “You just want to see your favorite angel.”

  “Mayyyyybeee,” she overexaggerates.

  “Let’s do it.”

  It isn’t until she’s cuddling me later tonight while we watch some stupid chick flick that I feel at peace. She’s my solace, she’s my fucking home, and one day, she’ll feel it too.

  It’s the night of Sadie’s, I’m in a tux with a blood red tie and a black Dahlia flower boutonnière adorning my jacket. Ma knows I’m not into Brady, but for mine and Leia’s friendship, she doesn’t tell her how I feel. She’s protective like that.

  I’m standing at the bottom of the staircase when Lele strides down after me. I swear it on my ma’s life, my chest tightens, strangling me from the inside out. If I wasn’t fit, didn’t know my body, and how it works, I’d think I was having an early age heart attack. Seeing her, seeing the dress, it’s everything.

  My momentary lapse in breathing has me nearly panting. When I release the built-up pressure, my body sags a bit. I’ve never felt the wind knocked out of me off the football field, yet she did it with one trip down the stairs. Leia has made me speechless. She’s stolen all the good prose and delicate words right from my mouth, and she doesn’t even realize it.

  She could silence an auditorium full of people singing just with one look at her; she’s perfect and she doesn’t even know it.

  Ma took Leia to the strip mall to get a dress yesterday. It’s only semi-formal. Being overly elegant isn’t necessary, yet she went all out. She’s dressed like the queen she is, delicate but illustrious too.

  The first thing I notice when she reaches the bottom of the stairs is the stud earrings in her tiny ears. She has the littlest, most perfect ears I’ve ever seen. I want to bite them, whisper sweet nothings, and then making her shiver while I growl every dirty thing I want to do to her -in them. If I was only as brave as my fantasy, as cruel as my need, and as strong as I need to be to give her the world.

  As I blink again, my body feels this intense ease. Realization takes over, telling me I’ll finally brave it and risk our friendship for this unabashed love trying to burst free.

  When I bring my attention back to her, I notice all the things that make her unique, all the things that make me love her more with every intake of breath.

  Her hair rests high on her head, wrapped beautifully in a turban, and I’ve never seen her more precious than at this very moment. She looks like she’s wearing a crown, all regal, all grace, and all fucking beauty. She’s rocking her heritage and looks absolutely breathtaking doing it.

  She’s wearing a taupe dress. Don’t ask how I know the color, because I’m not entirely sure how to answer. Her dress splits down the middle to her belly but has this mesh material that keeps it held together. It hugs her torso, squeezing it, almost like a noose, until it flows at the hips. It’s poofy like Cinderella but more beautiful, and it nearly brushes the ground with its length.

  “Oh my god, look at you!” my mom squeals, interrupting my thoughts.

  Leia’s eyes light up with joy. She loves my ma and her over-eccentric-ness and unending love for everyone and everything.

  “Ma, I’m just going to the dance,” I utter, annoyed that the beautiful girl to the left of me isn’t my date.

  “It’s the only dance you and Leia-o-pea-a have gone on!” She jumps excitedly. “I want pictures!”

  Ma hauls us over to the foyer, and Leia just stands there like a good doll. When Ma is around, she’s always dressing Leia up and makes sure to take a million pictures. She’s the closest thing Ma has to a daughter.

  I pull Leia to my side, and as soon as my palm touches her bare arm, I gulp. There’s something magical whenever our skin makes contact, but she doesn’t feel it since she’s preoccupied with someone else.

  Him. Always him.

  When our arms brush, even momentarily, my skin feels like a match, like she’s the striking surface of a matchbox, and I’m lighting myself with each feather of her fingertips. Her body ignites this closeness inside me. It’s otherworldly and uniquely something I’ve only ever felt with her. It’s beautiful and dangerous. She doesn’t notice me like I do her, but she will. One day.

  I’m so gone for her.

  For now, in her beautiful blue eyes, I’m nonexistent.

  We make our way to the dance. Brady and Aster will be meeting us there. We didn’t do the cliché limo or tacky big entrance, just four friends looking for fun. I let Aster ask Leia, but I made him go all out. My girl got a big dance number at school and flowers everywhere. I made sure it was perfect. She deserves perfect.

  While on the ride over, Leia’s phone incessantly chirps, but she does well to ignore it.

  When it rings, she doesn’t answer, and I ask, “Who’s that?”

  She looks at me, her eyes sad and irritated all at once. “Either my mamá or Sy.” She twiddles her fingers, staring off. “I didn’
t tell them we were going. I didn’t want them to make a big deal.”

  This shocks me. Why would they care? Silas. He’d care.

  “Let’s just have a good night, Lele. We deserve a day without our parents’ shit.”

  A small smile quirks at her lips. “You’re right,” she muses, her face slowly lightening up. “Let’s be teenagers.”

  A chuckle escapes me. What a sad thing to say. We’re normally so caught up in everything that we never actually live.

  “Yes, let’s.”

  The dance isn’t at our school this year. We—the school teams—raised money to have the event at the college stadium building. It’s out of the way and in the nicer parts of Arizona. Cape Hill isn’t a place you want to be late at night if you’ve had something to drink.

  The Vipers roam the streets, and so do their competition.

  I’ve heard Xo speaking to Silas about someone called Absinthe, and that they’re connected in some way. I’ve always wondered if it’s the same man Leia calls Sinthe. It’s almost too coincidental not to be.

  Cape Hill is a place that should have a required curfew, but people don’t see it that way. Funding doesn’t really provide much for anything. Not for schools, roads, or night watch. The people who were born and raised here realize this, but others who are new aren’t as lucky.

  By the time we make it to the place, it’s been too quiet in the car. The stadium is lit up with twinkling lights. The party's on the thirty-fourth floor, and I pray their elevator is in service. Last time I came here with Brady, it wasn’t, and we had the nosebleed seats. We ended up having to travel up all the flights of stairs. By the time we made it up there, we were exhausted and couldn’t really enjoy the game.

  Leia holds her hands in front of her dress, unmoving, almost like she’s scared to go inside.

  “We’re going to have fun, remember?” I try reassuring her. She does this, feels excited then overthinks it and changes her mind, the worry outweighing the excitement.

  “Yeah, I-I just don’t know about Aster,” she whispers, almost as if speaking to herself.

  Did Aster say something to her? Did that fucker do something? My protective instincts kick in. I don’t want this for her. We can just leave and eat popcorn while watching a movie.

  “Did he touch you, Lele?” I can’t help the anger in my voice. When it comes to Leia, I’m beyond protective. It’s a maddening sense.

  “No… I just don’t know how I feel about him, Brax. He scares me.”

  Something must’ve happened to give her that vibe. She’s not one to question someone she doesn’t know.

  “Seriously, what happened?” I ask softly, toning down the restless frustration rising in me.

  “After gym the other day, I was changing and heard some girls talking,” she mutters, refusing to meet my eyes.

  “What did they say?” I prod, tipping her chin up, searching her face.

  She shrugs, biting her lip. “That he got handsy.”

  Ah.

  “If he touches you, and you don’t want that, I’ll kick his ass. Deal?” I attempt to reassure with a smile. I’d do anything for this girl, and she doesn’t even realize her power.

  Leia grins, her eyes lighting up in amusement. “Oh, really, my brave protector?” She giggles, unable to stop it from shaking her whole frame.

  “Yes. No doubt about it.” I’d end him if he ever so much as laid a hand on her. She’s not his to touch. She’s not anyone’s.

  “Then I think I’ll survive. I was just troubled.” She shrugs, but I can still see the worry on her face.

  I hop out of my car, making my way to her side. Leia knows I’ll always open her door. For the first while, she thought it was weird, but now, she’s used to me. Opening her door, I place my hand out, palm up, for her to get out.

  “Ever the gentleman, Braxton,” she jokes, taking my hand.

  I’ll never get used to her in a dress. It’s something that makes me think of our wedding day. I’ve always imagined a life with her, even if it takes us many steps to get there.

  With her hand in my arm, I walk us toward the entrance. I’m guessing the guys won’t be meeting us until we’re up there. They have our tickets.

  When we get to the elevator, I feel her holding my arm roughly. Clicking the thirty-four button, I watch as the doors close.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask, concerned about her. She’s hardly nervous with anything. Her confidence often makes me feel doubtful.

  “Yeah, I’m just not used to being around guys. Except for you and Silas.”

  His name makes me flinch. I hate being in the same sentence as him. He’s vile. He’ll ruin her.

  “We can literally go down as soon as the elevator stops and go home,” I offer, grabbing her wrist softly.

  “No, I can do this,” she affirms. I’m having a hard time believing her.

  “Okay,” I say with finality. She seems determined. “You can do this, Lele. I got you.”

  “I know, Brax. You always do,” she praises with a smile.

  We finally hit the thirty-fourth floor, the beeping announcing our arrival. She lessens her grip, takes in a deep breath, and straightens her posture.

  As we walk through the door, it’s like time slows. People are staring at us, at her. She’s beautiful, breathtaking even, and I can tell they realize this, too. Their gazes are frozen on her, taking her in like it’s the first time. I’m jealous of them seeing her this way. If I could rewind and watch her come down the stairs over and over again, I would. I’d have that image on replay forever, and if it were my last memory, I’d die a happy man.

  I’ve always been protective, telling guys to get lost, but I realize that might have affected her more than I intended. She hugs closer. She’s shying away from their gazes.

  “They think you’re stunning, Lele. You’re like fucking sunlight. Shine bright, baby girl,” I whisper for only her to hear.

  She visibly relaxes, smiling at the others. It’s when I see Brady and Aster huddled, spiking their drinks that I finally second-guess this whole ordeal. Leia hardly drinks. It’s something that she avoids because of Xo. I tend to avoid it because of Darryl but partake with the guys. What a bunch of misfits we are, comparing our sins to those of our parents.

  Aster and Brady meet us halfway. Aster takes Leia from my grasp, whispering something in her ear, making her blush. My face heats in the jealous rage I’m trying to reign in.

  “Hey, man,” Brady says to me, hitting my chin with his curved forefinger, bringing my attention to him entirely.

  For some reason, that small notion makes me calm completely. If I played for his team, I’d think he’s hot. What am I saying?

  His hair is tousled in that messy and carefree way, it’s darker than mine but almost like he gets highlights too, and that realization doesn’t bug me at all. It fits him, makes him more attractive.

  Brady has such a strong jawline, making him appear a lot older and more mature for his age. His lips aren’t flat, but they’re not plump like Leia’s either. They’re perfect. Why am I staring at his lips?

  My gaze travels his large muscled frame. I’ve never really noticed, but we’re identical heights and builds, and I’m not sure why I’m worrying about it now either. His suit is tailored to him like a fucking glove, hugging him in all the right places. He looks like a fucking GQ model. It’s daunting and amazing that he’s such a nice guy too.

  He also has a dahlia on his lapel, a dyed teal one. I’ve never seen one before. My eyes are intrigued with the coloring, the petals that start light and turn nearly black at the tips.

  “I saw it at the flower shop and had to have it,” he muses, staring at me like I’ve made his entire day by noticing. It’s the first time my mind has left Leia for longer than a minute. He distracts me, and it isn’t the worst thing ever.

  “It’s awesome. I’ve never seen one like this.”

  “Thought it’d be entertaining, and I see you also got a dahlia.”
>
  “It’s my favorite flower.”

  “Interesting,” he expresses, his lip between his teeth.

  I’ve lost all sight of Leia. I didn’t even see her leave. No, have fun tonight. Like I told her, I need to take my own advice.

  “Dance?” he interrupts my thoughts, quirking an eyebrow.

  “I suck at it, but what the hell.”

  If he knew exactly how shitty of a dancer I am, he’d run in the opposite direction. I’m that bad.

  He hands me his drink. I chug it down, feeling the warmth spread through me. God, what did he do? Add a tiny bit of juice to this vodka? It’s rank, making me wonder if it’s truly vodka or paint thinner.

  We give them our tickets and make our way inside. As soon as we enter, I’m at a loss for words. The committee this year outdid themselves. The room is already vast and stunning. It’s even more pimped out than a regular school dance. There are twinkling lights everywhere. It’s fitting, since our theme is Starry Night. The music blares. They’re bumping to not-so-Starry-Night kinds of music.

  Brady grabs my hand, entwining out fingers, and it doesn’t feel as awkward as I imagined it would. He doesn’t bring me into a close dance like normal couples would. Couples? Did that really just cross my mind? He starts dancing in front of me, showing me to follow his lead. His body, hips, and chest work in sync. He rotates with the beat, and I’m so entranced I don’t realize my hands have found their spot on his hips. He’s smiling at me, and it confuses me.

  He turns me around, my back facing his front. Brady grips my arms, placing them behind me on his sides. He rotates, his very stark erection pressing into my backside.

  Shit. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. I repeat the mantra, trying not to be stiff with him. After all, the entire world thinks I’m into dudes.

  Brady gyrates, I move with him, not allowing myself to get into my head about this. It’s not wrong. It’s not even unappealing, it’s just confusing the fuck outta me.

  We dance, saying nothing, just experiencing each other without labels, without words, or acknowledging the fact that I’m not gay. Right?