Sunspots and Raindrops

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“What do you mean you can’t decide on a color?” Brendon asked as he and I walked hand-in-hand back toward the store where I’d thought I’d found my dress. “Anything is going look great on you.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “You’re saying that I would look good in vomit-color green?”

He made a face for less than a millisecond before saying rather confidently, “Yes!” I rolled my eyes and we walked a few more steps before he added. “Besides, if in some alternate reality you actually don’t look good in an outfit, that’ll just give me a reason to tear it off of you!”

My face flushed red and I looked down at my shoes as Brendon pulled me closer to his side so that he could place a kiss on my temple, squeezing my fingers slightly.

My heart thumped in my throat the entire rest of the time we were walking until we finally got to where I had found a few dresses. I grabbed the ones I liked, ignoring Brendon each time he pulled a different one off the rack and commented on how great I would look in it (I didn’t want to have to think any longer on a dress), and then headed toward the dressing room.

I was about to walk into one of the cubicles when Brendon shouted, “So, do you want me to wait out here and give you an opinion on each when you come out or should I just go in with you and help you into each one?”

“Don’t tempt me, Bren.” I call as I slid the silver bar into the square notch, locking the door and hearing him chuckle as he sat down by the three-hundred-sixty degree mirror right outside.

I had grabbed five dresses total: two were blue, one was red, one was purple, and the last one was black with a combination of warm colors. They were all knee-length. Two of them were halter tops, two of them were strapless, and one of them had spaghetti straps. All five had very flowing hems at the bottom and all fit me very well.

These were all the reasons I had called in Brendon as my back up. I knew that he’d have a favorite. And it was his senior homecoming so I wanted him to enjoy it in all that he could.

First was one of the blue ones. It was a halter top with white sequins around the V and it had a darker blue gradient coming from the bottom. I pulled it on and adjusted my hair so that it flowed in wide waves down my back and over my collarbones.

Then, I stepped outside and slowly looked up to Brendon.

He didn’t say anything at first, only looked at me. Up and down. Up again. Then down again.

I was beginning to feel self-conscious, but I’d asked him to come for the sole purpose of telling me which dress to purchase, so I waited for him to collect his thoughts.

He drew a breath in and exhaled shakily and I thought for a moment that he was trying to put his commentary into a way that wouldn’t hurt my feelings. However, he brought his thumb to his mouth and started chewing on his nail before saying, “If you’re trying these dresses on in any particular order, say from least fancied to most fancied, by the fifth dress, I’m going to be unable to control myself.”

That was definitely a comment if I’d ever heard one.

“They are in no particular order.” I say as I approached the mirror, turning so that I could examine the back of the dress. In the reflection, I saw Brendon slump in his chair, his arms flopping to dangle on the armrests of the chair.

“This is going to kill me.” He groaned jokingly, sending me a toothy grin.

“You’ll be fine,” I say, placing a kiss on his cheek as I walked back toward the changing room. “Number two is coming up.”

“I’ll be sure to have the crash cart ready.”

The second dress was the other blue one. It was the one with spaghetti straps. It had white dots around the bottom hem and the breast area. I stepped out and Brendon ran his hands over his eyes and smiling face before giving me a thumb up.

“Greater than or less than number one?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips.

Brendon eyed me and then said, “Less than.”

“That narrows that down.” I stepped back inside. “Number three coming up.”

Number three was crimson red and strapless with no sequins on it whatsoever. It was ruffled near the bottom and the breast area was bunched to give it a layered look. I stepped out and Brendon gazed at me.

“More than number one and number two.” He says and I was surprised. “That one compliments your hair better.”

I smiled and then stepped back inside. I placed dress number one and number two on the hook on the back of the door, telling myself that they were out of the running for purchase.
Dress number four was the black one with splashes of red and yellow here and there. It gave it an inferno look that spread all the way up to the halter top. It was a little tighter around my bottom and legs, but it brought out my figure, I thought.

I stepped out and Brendon’s jaw dropped. However, when he said, “Less than all three.” I was shocked. “It seems too…busy.” He was right; it looked like I was wearing a firework explosion.

When I slipped the black one off, I was down to the fifth dress. It was purple and strapless and had a few of the same attributes as the red one. However, instead of being folded near the breast, it flowed like a current toward small purple bow on a belt-like strip at the waistline. The bottom was tucked and sewn elegantly and I loved the feel of the taffeta fabric.

Taking a breath, I stepped out and looked at Brendon and his opinion was made very clear when he shot from his seat and took me in his arms, kissing me hard on the mouth.

“Don’t make me choose between this one and the red one,” he says against my lips. “It’ll be the end of me.”

I laughed as I slid my arms under his, latching them behind his back as his laced together on my lower back. “I think you just did.”

We walked to the register and I paid for the dress with my mom’s credit card (much to Brendon’s disappointment because he tried and tried to get the card away from me so that he could pay for the dress).

“You should’ve let me buy it,” he said as we walked toward my mom’s car which I had barely managed to drive over. “You wouldn’t be buying the dress if it weren’t for me.” I looked at him and almost laughed at the bluntness of his words. “And I mean that in the best way possible.” He gave a childlike grin and his eyes dazzled.

“I understand what you meant,” I responded. “But I wanted to charge it to my mom…kind of out of spite.”

“Because of the woman-beating douche?” Brendon read my mind.

“Exactly.”

We arrived at my car and I hung the dress behind the driver’s seat. Just as I was about to open the car door, Brendon twirled me around and tilted my head up very gently with one finger.

He didn’t have to explain himself. I knew that he was checking out the gradually fading bruises on the side of my neck. Then, to my surprise, he pressed his mouth to them softly and I had to maintain my composure and not to melt to the pavement right then and there.

“You’re going to look perfect in that dress.” He had brought his face to mine and was looking me square in the eye. “Any preference of outfit on my end?”

“Uh…clothing?” I say, smart-alecky.

“Oh, aren’t you clever?” He stepped forward and my back was pressed to my car while Brendon was pressed to my front. He kissed me full on the mouth and I savored the fact that Brendon was against me, holding me steady without knowing it. My brain went fuzzy and my knees went weak and the longer Brendon’s lips lingered on mine, the stronger the effect they had on me grew.

After so long and at the same time not long enough, his lips were gone and he was just looking at me. “Are you okay?” he asks, out of the blue. I gave a perplexed look and he inhaled. “It’s just that, everything that’s happened has happened rather quickly.” He leaned away so that he could get a better look at me. “Your dad, moving here,” he stepped around those topics like they were lined with explosives. “Then there’s you and me, and now Thomas and your mom,” He spit the man’s name like a foul-tasting liquid. “I’m just worried that something might be building up inside.”

“I’ve told you everything, Bren.” I didn’t want him walking on eggshells around me.

“I know,” he says quickly. “I know you have and I love that you’ve confined in me,” He ran a hand over my cheek. “You’ve just been through so much and I worry about you sometimes.”

I leaned against his palm. “I’m not a scared little girl, Brendon.” I used his full name to get across how serious I was. I looked at him and immediately noticed how concerned he still looked. I showed a sideways smile. “Besides, I have you.”

That got him to smile. Not a full-blown Brendon Urie smile, but a smile that was enough for me in that moment.

He gave me another quick kiss on the lips and let me get in my car and drive away before heading to his own vehicle. I watched him walk away in my rearview mirror. He was typing something on his cell phone and his face held a rather unpleasant emotion. At least, that was what I could tell from the distance I was at I my car. But then, he disappeared between two trucks and I pulled out of the mall parking lot and headed to my house.

I got to my house and went straight to my room, vaguely murmuring how my shopping trip went to my mom and Thomas who were in the kitchen discussing something that I cared not for. I went straight to my room and sat down with my laptop on my bed. I just needed some music and some time to catch up on all of the nonexistent homework that I’d been telling my mom I had to catch up on.

But really, all I was doing was surfing the internet for new bands to add to my iTunes. I was always in need of new music. My phone buzzed next to me.

Find a dress? Picture?

I smiled and texted Charlie back quickly.

Yes. And yes.

I jumped off the bed and quickly put the dress on, snapping picture in the mirror of myself holding a thumbs up. I turned and attached it to a picture message and off it went. It had just been sent when I received another message. This one, however, was from Brendon.

I could get arrested for peeping through windows the way I do.

I gawked and when I looked across at Brendon’s window, the light was out but his marker board sat against the pane with a large smiley face and a heart drawn on it. I blew a raspberry that caused my bangs to flutter before my phone buzzed again.

I’d hate to be the zipper on Brendon’s pants when he sees you in that.

I laughed myself to sleep that night.