The Summer House

I paid the cashier and wandered over to an ATM as I waited for Brendon to pay for his cart of food. When he mentioned withdrawing money for tomorrow's dinner, I thought it would be wise to have some cash on me too.

I slipped the silver, plastic card into its slot on the machine and entered my PIN, lighly tapping the numbers and options on the display. I hummed quietly to myself as I waited for it to upload my balance, looking over my shoulder to find Brendon handing over his credit card to the cashier. When I turned back to the ATM, the numbers almost made me feel embarrassed, but secure despite my horrific sals rate on my last novel.

White text against blue, the numbers of my account balance burned momentarily into my eyes.

$8,482,193.46

Quickly, I took out $200 and ejected my bank card, pocketing both cash and card before turning around. Brendon had just handed the pen back to the cashier and was making his way over.

"Oh, right! Thanks for reminding me," he said happily, stepping up to the ATM. I stood the polite ten-foot distance, facing away away from the screen. His boyish laughter rang in my ears. "You don't have to do that, y'know. I trust you."

"Money is usually a private matter."

Brendon's broad shoulders rolled up before falling back down. "Spencer, Ryan, Jon and Audrey know my PIN and everything. Why shouldn't you?"

I hesitantly inched closer. "Why should I?"

"Well why not? I doubt you're gonna rob me."

I turned minutely towards the ATM but still kept my eyes off the screen. Brendon chuckled but the musical sound came to an abrupt, choking halt. He breathed out a tiny gasp.

"What's wrong?" I asked quickly, taking a step back in case I offended him with my proximity. My eyes landed on his face and his eyebrows were sloped up in disbelief, pouty lips parted. For a moment, I thought I had left my bank card in the ATM and that he was sputtering over my balance. My fingers brushed over the plastic rectangle in my pocket.

"What the hell?" he mumbled, retrieving his bank card before sliding it back in. When the same balance came up, he grew frantic. "What the fuck?"

At the sound of his distress and the unusual curse, I couldn't help but look down at the screen. What was displayed on the screen was discouraging and I had the most upsetting sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I shook my head to clear it and shifted back to him. "What's the matter?"

"This can't be right," Brendon uttered, knuckles going white from gripping the sides of the ATM. "This is bullshit. Madeline!" he cried out, jolting me awake. He suddenly gripped my hand and pulled my forward, my feet stumbling over each other as I collided with his side. "We have to find another ATM. This can't be right."

Though I knew there was nothing wrong with the ATM, I let him pull me along. I didn't have the heart to tell him that the numbers he was seeing were probably right because the numbers I saw on my account weren't off by a cent.

He pushed the cart out of the store with one hand and kept the other intertwined with my fingers. Pressure was building in his grip and I was sure my hands would bruise. The one grocery bag in my hand swayed feebly behind us.

Unloading the groceries into the car went twice as fast as it usually did. His hands were frantic, movements erratic and stressed. I did my best to keep up with him but it seemed like the best thing I could do was crawl into the passenger seat and wait for him to start driving.

"There's an ATM," I said quietly, pointing to one that was outside the a bank. Brendon immediately pulled the Chevy into a parking space and climbed out, bank card in hand. I slowly left the passenger seat and walked after him. His back was turned, but I could already see the distress in his hunched shoulders.

"This can't be right," he repeated in a whisper, staring down at the number on the blue screen. He glanced sideways at my face for a reaction to his account balance, but I truly didn't have one. Sympathy was the most I could offer because, really, what else was there to say?

Without another word, he wrapped his fingers around my hand again and tugged me into the bank. To my surprise there wasn't much of a line.

The brief wait for an open till had Brendon mangling his bottom lip with his teeth. He suffled from one foot to the other, sighing every few seconds. It was plain that he was antsy - and who wouldn't be in his situation? - but all the while his fingers never untangled from mine. Sweat was building between our palms but I decided to ignore it.

When it was our turn, Brendon strode up to a brunette bank teller, probably no older than 26, and tried to keep his voice from shaking. I could see him put in all his effort to keep his voice even by the way the muscles on his neck stretched. "Hi. Could you please check the balance on my bank account? Your ATM isn't working outside."

She blinked in confusion but smiled brightly a millisecond later. "Sure thing. Just give me a moment."

After swiping the card and clicking around, she wrote the balance on a slip of paper and handed it to him. Brendon set it down on the counter and slid it between us so that I had a clear view of it too. I couldn’t comprehend why he would think it was important that I see it too, but for some reason he did. It perplexed me how trusting he was despite the fact that his trust seemed to lead him to no good. It perplexed me even more that he could be so trusting in this situation.

The numbers on the slip of paper reflected the same ones both ATMs presented. Thought I knew they were true the first time I saw them, I couldn’t help but feel a suffocating twitch in my chest.

$2867.33

Brendon gave my hand a squeeze and I could sense the panic in the grip he held. “This can’t be right,” he said yet again, trying to maintain composure for the innocent bank teller. “I had $88,000 more than this last week. Where the hell did my money go?”

“We can check your transactions,” the teller said calmly, fingers poised at the keyboard. She shook her head briefly in sympathy, her long ponytail swaying.

“Please.”

A few minutes later, she was printing out his transactions log from the last month and sliding them towards him on the counter. He immediately shifted it closer to me again, and another sinking feeling hit me as he did so. I didn’t bother looking down at the paper, instead opting to stare at the counter it laid on.

When I glanced over at him, his face was stony.

“Rock and Revel Co.? That’s a mistake; I never transferred money to that business.”

“Well according to this, the transaction was made in Las Vegas, Nevada. Perhaps you took a trip there and had a good time? It’s not uncommon for people to lose some money over there.”

Brendon shook his head, looking severely wounded and, at the same time, furious. “I haven’t been in Vegas in over four months. The date on this says I was there last week.” He tugged at his hair in frustration. “Can’t I just un-transfer my money from there?”

“Sorry, sir, but whoever owns the Rock and Revel Company account has to do it.”

“But I never even transferred that money!” he exclaimed, clutching at the paper helplessly. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

“Does anyone else know your account information?”

Both the bank teller and Brendon turned to me. The woman’s head was tilted to one side but her face remained blank and polite. Brendon looked like he had been hit in the face with a brick. Something flickered in his brown eyes before being doused into a dull stare. His shoulders immediately slumped and his grip on my hand went limp.

“Thank you,” Brendon sighed, turning back to the bank teller and grabbing his bank card from the counter. “C’mon, Madeline.”

The short walk back to the truck was painfully silent. We both knew there were four possible suspects who could have gone into his account and shifted around the money, all of them a sure knife in his back. When we were seated and buckled up in the car, he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white.

“I can’t believe they would do this to me,” he whispered, gazing with unfocused eyes out the windshield. “I thought they were my friends.”

“Maybe they didn’t do it,” I offered in a hush, though I knew that option was a long shot. “Maybe it wasn’t even one of them. You said they’re all, like, rich, right? Maybe some stranger just got into your account.”

Brendon threw me a terribly weak “thanks for trying” smile before backing out of the parking space. The whole ride home he looked like a man burning on a pyre.

-x-

“Oh, sweetie, I was wondering where you were,” Georgia greeted, opening the door for me.

When we were in the proximity of our houses, Brendon told me he wanted to stay with his Grandmother for awhile. I expected him to keep driving the small distance towards his lake house, but instead he pulled up to my driveway. I questioningly looked him over but he refused to look at me and what he didn’t say finally dawned on me. “I’ll be over later,” he assured.

It was later - seven hours later, in fact - and he still hadn’t shown up, so I took it upon myself to drop by.

I stepped into the house and looked around after giving Georgia a hug. “Is Brendon around here?”

“He’s been in his room all day. He told me what happened and I got worried when you didn’t come home with him, y’know. Go on up, you know where it is.”

“Thanks.”

I took the steps two at a time, feeling the muscles on the back of my short legs stretch in mild protest. When I reached the landing of the second floor, I immediately spotted Brendon through his open bedroom door. He was lying on his bed with his back turned to the hall.

I knocked shyly on the door, feeling the air stick in my throat.

He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled sadly, motioning for me to come in. “I was wondering how long it would take you to come over and check on me.”

“Well you told me you would come over,” I reminded, sitting on the edge of his bed. Brendon rolled over to face me and I really wished he hadn’t. My face fell when I saw the vacant stare he had on.

“I didn’t think you’d like me facing you like this.”

And he was right; I didn’t like him facing me like that. He wasn’t smiling his boyish, overly-wide grin and the shy yet mischievous glitter in his eyes were gone. It was all wrong. I couldn’t believe this was Brendon in front of me.

“Do you still want to see them tomorrow?” I asked gently.

The frown on his face deepened slightly and the mysterious flicker I saw in his eyes at the bank flared again before disappearing.

“Oh, we are seeing them tomorrow.”

-x-

To say that I was nervous would have been a hideous understatement. Brendon and I avoided the subject of his Vegas friends all night last night. Any time that they would be vaguely referenced, the same wild flame would appear on his sullen face and I would find my dread for tonight’s events build.

I was worried about several things. Selfishly so, I wondered why I had agreed to the blind date with Spencer Smith. For all I knew, he could look like a dog. He could have STD’s, though I was almost certain Brendon would warn me beforehand if that were the case. He could be overall creepy and violating and the whole dinner would be a personal horror. What’s worse; what if he was the one who took Brendon’s money?

And how would Brendon react when he saw them? That was the more important question.

And if he acted like nothing was wrong, could I be able to handle...

I scowled at myself in the mirror, leaving the thought unfinished but suspended in the back of my mind. The bathroom door slipped open and I watched Brendon slip out through the mirror, dressed in a white t-shirt with a black suit jacket over top and black jeans. He smiled tiredly at me as he surveyed my reflection over my shoulder, slinging his thumbs in the front pockets of his pants.

“You look pretty,” he complimented, standing behind me at the mirror.

I snorted but blushed anyway, eyeing my simple knee-length, cap-sleeved black dress. “Thanks. You clean up good, y’know.”

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, I heard Brendon’s uplifting laugh. “Thanks, I think.”

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and checked the pins behind my sloppy updo before glancing at him. He kept the faint smile on his lips. “Ready?”

He merely nodded and squared his shoulders, leading the way out of the house.

The long drive to town was filled with light banter. I could tell he was tightly wound by the way he sat rigidly in the drivers seat and kept checking the dashboard clock. At one point I asked him what the name of the restaurant was just to see if he was paying attention and he answered me with a distant “sure thing”.

We pulled up to Andaluca’s four minutes before seven. As we walked out from the parking lot, I could see a small gathering of figures near the door. Three males and one small female. I gulped and shot a sideways look at Brendon, finding his features to be twisted in suppressed fury. It must be them.

Their faces and details came into view when we were about 30 feet away. They were all dressed similarly to Brendon, save for the girl. As we approached, I noticed that her hair was a shade of cotton candy pink, matching her sequined thigh-length dress. They all beamed as we approached.

I took one last look at Brendon and found him to be curiously composed, grinning with little strain back at them.

“Brendon!” They cried, engulfing him in hugs once we approached. Laughter rang out into the night and I stood quietly back, watching their interactions.

All four of them were just as lanky as Brendon and the males were definitely taller. I suddenly felt very petite, until the pink-haired girl, who I assumed to be Audrey, made her way out of the man group hug and over to me. She was at least three inches shorter.

She grinned warmly and introduced herself.

“Madeline,” I returned, a little surprised when she wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

“It’s so great that Brendon’s got a friend out here,” she said happily as she pulled away from me. “And any friend of Brendon’s is a friend of ours. I’ve heard so much about you!”

I went red and noticed that the boys had congregated around us. Brendon looked sheepish after Audrey’s last words. “Um, thanks?”

She laughed and Brendon took over gesturing to the guy beside him - the lankiest of the bunch. His brown hair was chopped short and straight and fell lightly in his eyes. When he stuck his hand out for a handshake, I noted he had an odd Sherif badge as a belt buckle. “This is Ryan. Ryan, Madeline. Madeline, Ryan.”

“Nice to finally meet you. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you since Brendon won’t shut the hell up about you in every email. I swear--”

I cut him off quickly with some sense of horror and embarrassment for both myself and Brendon. “Nice to meet you, too!”

Ryan chuckled and nodded.

Jon’s introduction went similarly, except for the fact that he decided to substitute his “I‘ve been looking forward to meeting you” with a “you’re hotter in person,” remark while shaking my hand and winking humorously. I couldn’t decide whether to be offended or not, so I did something between a smile and frown.

Spencer was the one with light facial hair and two of the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. He had been smiling shyly at me the whole time. His handshake wasn’t as rough as Ryan or Jon’s and I could already tell that he would be a someone I wouldn’t mind being friends with. I then remembered that I was supposed to be on a blind date with him and felt my face burn with embarrassment. It seemed I would be doing that a lot in the next several hours.

“Let’s eat!” Audrey chirped, treading her arm through mine and pulling towards the door. “I’m starving and jet-lagged.”

There was a murmur of agreement as we entered the restaurant. Spencer stayed close beside me, politely asking some ice-breaking questions while Brendon, Ryan, and Jon conversed behind us. They frequently broke out into laughter and I could hear Audrey giggle with them to my right. It didn't take much to get completely invested in my date.

“I know it’s kind of weird to ask Brendon to ask you on a date for me,” Spencer said, pulling a chair out for me once the hostess directed us to our table. “I’m real sorry about that. It’s just from everything Brendon said, you sounded amazing and I really wanted to get to know you. I would have asked you myself but the distance and all...”

I nodded understandingly and smiled as everyone seated themselves. Audrey sat to my right and Brendon sat between her and Ryan at the round table. Jon sat on Ryan’s other side and everyone generally left Spencer and I alone. “It’s okay, I get it. To tell you the truth I wasn’t so sure before that accepting was a good idea.”

Spencer’s face fell marginally. “We don’t have to be on a date right now. If it makes you uncomfortable, I’m totally cool with just being friends.”

I shook my head and looked towards Brendon for a second, trying to sense any distress. He seemed to fall comfortably in his friends’ company and I pushed my worries out of my mind, finally allowing myself to believe that the night would turn out okay.

I turned back to Spencer with a shy grin. “I think it’d would be okay to try, don’t you?”

He beamed and suddenly the table went quiet. My head moved instantly to my right, finding everyone to have lapsed in an thick silence.

Brendon’s normally kind, wide brown eyes narrowed, and I saw a glint in them as sharp as a blade and as heartbreaking as a lamb in a den of wolves.