Dear August

Sighing I leaned back letting my head hit the edge of my headboard with a thunk. I had seen a ripped edge stuck out of my journal. I knew where it went. I knew what it caused, and I knew that if was partly my fault for being so sloppy....My room had never fully recovered from the day in August when I tore everything but the walls apart.

Even if it was missing I still remember writing it with a shaky hand. I remember being so sickly excited and confused. He said yes.

It was a day after the dance. I had slept until 3:00 in the afternoon, my throat was sore, and I was still dead tired. I only woke up because my phone was going nuts. William had stolen my phone at one point and changed his ringtone to the one that only younger people could hear. It was high pitched and screaming.

“What?” I croaked and Will chuckled in that casual way of his.

“Come over. All the guys are here.”

“Jesus,” I sat up and looked out my window, “Fine, I’ll come.”

“That’s what she said!” Someone shouted and and the group laughed.

“What? Who’s all over there?”

“Sorry, forgot to tell you you’re on speaker.”

“Mhm. I’ll be over soon.”

“Bye!” They all shouted.

I hung up, took a quick shower, and went over. It was almost identical to the scene in my basement. It was shouting and booing and laughing-- until Mrs. Beckett came down. She was so frail and quiet compared to the surroundings. She warned us that Dr. Beckett was sleeping and he had to work the night shift. William actually took this seriously and herded us all to the strip mall, which is how we landed at Starbucks...because well, it really wasn’t as much fun without Jon.

We were talking about video games, then it went to girls, at one point it even went to popping zits, and then it went to would-you-rathers. I couldn’t really relate to any of those things. I was still having a good time though. It was nice to be around some testosterone after two days with Keltie. The caffeine was finally kicking in when I heard Jon joking with someone.

It was Brendon. Pete was still standing next to the counter waiting for his order. Brendon was happily sipping a pink drink. He never needed extra energy. That’s what I liked about him. He smiled as everyone greeted him.

“And Pete.” He pointed to the dark haired boy coming to sit with us.

The gang was just as pleased. I was a little terrified and was trying not to stare at either of them.

“Blow job?”

I was snapped out of my thoughts at the last part of the would-you-rather. Brendon’s cheeks were starting to flush and he concentrated on his drink. Slurping it down like he hadn’t eaten in days. I found it enduring. I knew he hadn’t had either...I wanted to be his first everything. I wanted to be sure that he knew who he was doing it with loved him.

But did he know that I loved him?

“Blow job. I can do a hand job myself.” Pete answered first. Brendon hunched his shoulders into himself and pretended to agree.

“Really? I can give myself a blow job.”

He paused with a devious grin while we all laughed. Because well his timing and tone were impeccable.

“Oh, wow! That’s not normal....”

“No, definitely not.” I mumbled to myself and laughed.

No one had heard me except for Pete. He curled his upper lip and I tried to ignore it. More chatter was starting, but there’s something about Pete. I don’t care that he doesn’t like me, I just wished he would play nice.

“Jesus Christ! Brain freeze!” Brendon shouted as his face scrunched in pain.

The noise stopped and everyone stared him a little startled before the group’s laughter started again. Once it died down Pete spoke quietly to Brendon and motioned to the doors.

“You can just go, I’m sure I’ll find a ride. And I know how you probably want to play it.” Brendon said lightly.

Pete shrugged, got up, and left giving a salute to the group. Jon filled in his spot seconds later eating a famous and tackle worthy cookie. It was finally my chance.

“Not much,” I smiled at Jon and then looked directly at Brendon, “I-” It was stuck in my throat now, “I can give you a ride home.”

The conversation wained and eventually Jon’s break was over. Brendon and I were the last ones to leave. We were in my car when Brendon declared he wanted to see a movie and get some ice cream. We decided on the movie since there was one playing in ten minutes.

The movie theatre was far too cold and the popcorn was too salty and over-priced. It didn’t really matter halfway through the movie though. I was so tired and I couldn’t help but doze in and out.

It made me smile to wake up every now and then to see Brendon watching the screen intently. Every time his facial expression was different. Sometimes an eyebrow would be raised, sometimes a tear would be welling in his eyes, sometimes his mouth was slack, and sometimes he’d be shaking his head. He’d be eating popcorn and it’d land on his shirt or even in his shirt.

I could wake up next to that everyday. I could just watch him everyday and be happy. Something was welling in my chest and nagging in the back of my head by the time we got out of the movie and were walking and eating our ice cream.

“I went to a homecoming.”

“With who?” Brendon frowned at the ice cream on dripping on his hand and then licked it off.

“A friend. Keltie. It was quite a disappointment.”

“So the November dance is way better?”

I nodded, "Guess what I heard.” I stared at my ice cream dish. That isn’t what was weighing on me. That isn’t what I wanted to say...

I was trying to get to what I was feeling. It wasn’t working.

"Is it anything about the November dance?" Brendon had gotten down to the cone and was crunching away.

"Yeah…" I said shyly.

"Who are you going with?" He smirked and bit his lip.

"You."

He was snickering at me, "That was a pick up line Ry."

"No it wasn't!" It wasn’t working.

"And yes, I'll go with you."

We were all done with our ice creams and headed back to my car. It was a short drive, because well everything in the suburbs are short drives. Brendon didn’t want to leave quite yet, which made me feel ten degrees happier. Instead of going inside he put his seat all the way back. We weren’t talking. I listened to Brendon’s steady breathing.

"Brendon," I was hesitating again. What if what I wanted to say wasn’t right and it didn’t make me feel better?

"What?" He look worried. My tone was too serious, it was going to scare him off. I didn’t like scaring him off; I seemed to be doing it a lot lately.

"Just never mind."

"You sure? What's on your mind?" Ok...Brendon seemed in a good mood. He didn’t seem put off by anything like he was willing to listen.

"Nothing, just-- I really, I love you."

My guess was completely wrong. In a tizzy he sat up and his eyes looked hurt while his mouth angry. The corners were frowning and his upper lip was stiff.

"Ryan, I-I, you can't just say that. We haven't-"

"Sorry.” It was all I could mumble as I started my car. I was going to pull closer to his driveway so he could jump out, because I knew he wanted to, and so I could make my get away faster as well...

"And you don't-" Brendon sighed.

This was all too embarrassing-- One of my reoccurring nightmares in fact, "Brendon, I didn't mean to say it out loud."

"I love you too." He said distantly as he fled from my car.

I remember driving straight home and writing it all down. I left my journal out so I could add any other details when I thought of them...then I forgot to put it away. It was on my nightstand, open to anyone who walked in the door.