Have You Ever Really Danced On the Edge?

We were at the airport, waiting for Brandon to land. It was me and Taylor and we'd already gone through the motions. Taylor had told me - one wrong move and I'm not afraid to kick his ass and throw him out on the street!

And of course, I retaliated: Taylor shut the fuck up.

But of course, I wasn't ready for Brandon to come. We had informed the Pierce the Veil boys that they weren't allowed to come over or call us until Brandon left early Sunday morning. Vic and Mike protested this the most - but I was too stubborn. Maybe I could possibly peacefully breakup with Brandon without any distractions.

Then again, breaking up with Brandon probably wouldn't in any way be peaceful. I stop thinking suddenly. Whoa, Brandon isn't even here yet and I'm already planning on breaking up with him! Things have certainly changed, haven't they?

Taylor bumps my shoulder encouragingly. "Nervous about Brandon, Anna?" she reads my mind.

"Yeah. I don't know how I feel about him," I confess and carefully look around, paranoid he’s right behind me.

But Taylor just nods, "well this could be a good time to fix things...or end them."

I smile, "we'll see."

Suddenly, I'm grabbed from behind and being swung all around. I can't help but giggle.

"Annie!" Brandon yells.

He sets me down and we embrace. "Hi Brandon, how was your flight?"

"It went pretty well! There was a guy snoring loudly behind me, but otherwise all good." When Brandon grins at me, I remember how boyish he is and how much fun we had in high school. And I want all of those times back.

"Good," I smile warmly, "and you know Taylor, don't you?" I joke. Obviously they've met before... and Taylor would lament that he was becoming more of a jackass every single time.

"Hey Taylor," Brandon says politely and hugs Taylor awkwardly. She looks at me behind his back with a serious face - I owe her and I know it and just like I owe Pierce the Veil.

"Let's not stand around anymore," Taylor says when she and Brandon break apart. "We've got an apartment to move into!"

When we begin to walk out is the airport, Brandon grabs my hand. I have a weird feeling in my stomach and try to swallow the lump in my throat. But then I realize Vic's face is slowly fading from my mind, and Brandon’s becoming more prominent.

***

The moving went abnormally fast. In four hours, Taylor and I had moved into our two-bedroom apartment in downtown San Diego! Things seemed be going quite well. Even Taylor and Brandon seemed to be getting along just fine.

After moving, Taylor went inside (probably to call Jaime and dish about Brandon) but Brandon and I chose to just hang out on the steps leading into the house. Even though it’s June in San Diego, the night air nips at my nose, chilling my bones.

Brandon takes off his sweatshirt and hands it to me, “For you.”

“Oh, but you’re going to be freezing!” I say but take the sweatshirt anyway.

“Anything for my girl,” Brandon comments and I smile slightly.

But a terrible feeling settles in my stomach and I remember his cruel words. I look down and he notices my hesitation, my uncertainty.

“What is it,” He asks and I shrug. “No, Anna. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s just…”

“Just what?” Brandon presses. I close my eyes for a second and think that Vic would never be so… annoying. He wouldn’t force me into anything like this – well, maybe he would, but I would definitely comply. With his pretty brown eyes and careful words, Vic would slowly ease me into telling him while Brandon just bothered me.

Knowing he would keep going, I turn to him. “I know that being apart has made you upset, and you have every right to be upset. We’re miles and miles apart and it hurts me too, believe me – but your words, Brandon… those were uncalled for. They were rude, inappropriate and they’re honestly making me rethink about the boy I’m in a relationship with.” I look down, letting my words sink in.

He just sits there, probably in shock. I continue, “And… I can’t believe you would ever call me a slut when I haven’t done anything to you.”

“But there was a boy, Annabel. You had a boy in the room with you.”

I stare at him. Not an apology I receive, but an accusation? I try to come to grips with the unfairness of our conversation. Of how quickly the tables turn in such a nasty way.

“I told you,” I say impatiently, not letting myself remember that it’s a lie: “I told you it was Taylor’s boyfriend.”

“But if Taylor has a boyfriend, won’t he have friends? Wouldn’t he invite you to parties and there would be boys there? How is that fair?”

“Brandon, you know I would never do that, it’s just that –“

He puts both hands on my shoulders, kneeling in front of me. I look at his Nikes, fearful of his eyes. His pretty, boyish blue eyes, “Listen to me, Anna. I drink, I go to parties, and it’s something I enjoy. I like beer. So, sue me. It’s not fair that you can sit on some kind of throne or some shit and assume the worse. I can go to parties, chat with some girls, but not cheat on you. Parties are not synonymous with cheating.”

“It’s deeper than the parties, Brandon. And you know that. You know that you get flirty when you drink. The roots of the problems are the parties, period. Your inhibitions get significantly sleazier when you become drunk and it’s not something I want to get entangled with. The idea of you having sex with another girl, hell, kissing her while we’re together makes me feel so… filthy. Like, legitimately dirty. That feeling that what we’ve had for three years could be broken so easily, so quickly without regrets because of your affected reasoning is ruining me. And I won’t stand for it any longer. Plus it’s not like you diminish the fears with your threats, either.” I look into his eyes.

It’s like time has stopped. My speech has worked. I try to think of a gentle way to tell Brandon about Jaime, Vic, and all my new friends.

It’s going to be hard, and he might be mad… but maybe during this visit it could still be fixed. I want things cleared up. I want our relationship to get through this. “Now I understand that my fears may be naïve, or whatever… but I can’t help it. I also understand that because I told you that you can’t party with girls, you don’t want me be around any boys but there’s something I should tell you –“

“Anna! Brandon!” It’s Taylor… at the worst possible moment. “Listen, we don’t have any noodles and since we’re supposedly having pasta…” She trails off. “Our dinner is practically ruined. Unless you go to the supermarket a block away and get us some.” Taylor looks shy, probably feeling silly.

Brandon hops up, feeling embarrassed that she unknowingly interrupted into our private moment. “Sure, of course we can, Tay. No problem.”

I slowly stand and nod. Taylor looks at me and notices our awkwardness.

“Sorry,” She says and I know what she means. She’s sorry she’s interrupted something and she’s sorry I have to deal with it.

I smile at her. “Hey, it’s no problem,” and you know what? It really isn’t.

- - -

The walk to the supermarket was quiet, for which I was grateful. I took Taylor’s interruption as a sign from God to keep my new friends a secret. And a secret they would remain.

Upon our arrival at the supermarket, Brandon skipped toward the carts. He climbed into the basket part of it and sat cross-legged happily.

I rolled my eyes but laughed anyway. “Just like a little boy,” I say and ruffle his hair. He smiles and reaches out to lightly rub his hand up and down my arm.

Our intimate moment is ruined by an 84 year old who seems adamant to get her cart. “Excuse me,” She says snottily. Brandon crosses his eyes at her behind her back and I giggle.

“Right,” I say as soon as she’s far ahead of us, “We’ve got noodles to buy. Maybe we should get desert as well…” I ponder at the possibilities.

Brandon’s eyes light up. “Yeah! Like cheesecake!”

My eyes light up as well… I love cheesecake! “Yes, let’s do that!”

I push off the ground with one foot, another on the bar on the cart. Soon, we’re gliding down the aisles. We’ve ridden past the noodle aisle three times by the time we’ve come to terms with the fact that we should probably just pick up some noodles.

“Now…” Brandon nearly yells, “To the desert aisle!”

I giggle and push off roughly. Three kicks and long coasts later, and we’re nearly flying. We’re going so fast the glaring faces of senior citizens are merely blurs. We’re going to fast that the black tank-topped person who just unknowingly walked into our path is pretty much done for.

Brandon calls out, and I feel sadly out of control as we suddenly ram into the boy.

“Fuck!” I hear a curse from the person as we collide. The cart is thrown sideways so Brandon and I tumble down with it. The person we’ve hit flies on top of us.

I groan as I’m on the bottle of the pile. “Oh my god,” I start to say, “I’m so sorry!”

“Ow,” a familiar voice says. “Damn Anna girl, you really are a force to be reckoned with… by measurement of that impact. Fuck.”

His pun goes unnoticed. Brandon is staring at me. The tall boy with long black hair, a SD baseball cap, and San Diego black tank top knows my name and Brandon is pissed.

“And who are you?” Brandon is able to spit out.

Mike looks at me and I see it in his eyes – the ‘oh shit’ look. We had made the Pierce the Veil boys promise to not contact Taylor or me the duration of Brandon’s stay but this… this was just bad luck! This was bullshit.

Mike stands there awkwardly and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so scared. It’s because he cares about me and Brandon’s anger is sure to diminish any happy moods. Obviously.

“I… I know her sister,” He says and looks away. “Ah, what’s her name again? I don’t even remember. Because I don’t even know them that well, met them like once, bro. At… at… um, Jamba Juice! Yeah, that’s right, and at that one Jamba Juice on uh, you know, State Street. I just remembered um, this girl’s name because she got mad I kept calling her Isobel. You know how girls are, bro. Getting all mad at dumb shit, well, it happens I guess…” Mike’s ramblings almost made me laugh; however, this situation was not funny.

“Oh! Right!” I play along, “You’re um… oh, god. You’re um, Mike Field? No, you’re Mack Frost! Actually, Matt Funtess, right? I barely remember you!”

“Hi, Anna Mattson! I’m Mike Fuentes!” His shakes my hand, and smiles shyly at me.

“Actually, it’s Morrison, Mike,” I correct. “Listen, it was nice meeting you again but we were just going to get cheesecake, right hun?”

We both look at Brandon anxiously to see his reaction. He’s simply seething. I cringe inwardly; knowing everything we’d maybe made amends for was ruined.

“Right,” Mike says, grabbing some chocolate chip cookie batter off the shelf quickly. I wonder what he’s planning to do with that, or with whom. “Well, bye!”

He walks away quickly thanks to his long legs. Brandon grabs a cheesecake off the shelf without even looking and grabs my arm somewhat roughly.

“C’mon, let’s just get out of here.”

- - -

The walk home is terrifying. Brandon hasn’t spoken a word and actually, I’m scared for what he’ll say.

“You lied.” We’re standing outside my house. I’m unaware of my surroundings except for that fact. My full attention is on Brandon. “You got onto some high throne, Anna, you ranted and raved… but in the end, you’re just a liar, just like everyone else. I know I’m not perfect, but I expected you to be better than me.”

I open my mouth to say that it wasn’t fair that he wanted me to be perfect – nobody is – but the look in his eyes shuts me up.

“All I can think about is you and that boy together. I bet you had some pretty fun times, didn’t you Anna?” His voice is confident, mocking me. It’s daring me to fess up to something more. But I don’t, because I know it’s not true.

“It’s not worth it,” Brandon finally says. “You’re not worth it. I’ve been slaving to your fucking rules, trying to please you… and this is what I get in return?”

I feel tears, “Brandon, just let me explain –“

“No! There’s nothing to explain, Anna. I know what’s happening here and I’m finished. You, us, whatever – I’m done. I’ll stay at a hotel tonight. My flight leaves early tomorrow morning. I wish that we could have stayed together, gotten over this rough patch but the disappointment has gone too far. I’m not okay with all the lies, straight to my face like that. Thanks for the memories, baby girl. Maybe someday we can be friends.”

“Brandon!” My voice cracks mid-scream and I feel sobs rack my body. “Please don’t, we can work this out! I swear! Three years, Bran! We’ve been together for three years, you can’t just let it go like this!”

He’s walking away. He’s walking away with my heart, or maybe it’s just lying on the pavement in numerous pieces. Whatever’s happening seems so unreal. I can hear my heart beating in my ears.

I sit outside for the longest time. I hear a male voice laughing inside our house and I realize its Jaime. I feel disgusted. If only Taylor had had noodles, a main ingredient for pasta anyway, this wouldn’t have happened!

I begin to walk, casually wiping at tears as they fell. Everything else that could have gone wrong wouldn’t have amounted to this. I was with Brandon for three years: three fucking years. He had come to learn and accept my flaws, he would also learn to compliment them, maybe work around them. He knew my family pretty intimately and my parents approved of him.

On the same hand, I had become apart of his family. His mother Joyce was probably the nicest lady ever, and his dad Bill made me laugh every time I had come to their house. All of my thoughts, dreams, and goals had now included Brandon in them.

And now, it was like none of that were possible anymore. Sure, we had that rough patch, but didn’t every couple? Fights happened, but we’d gotten over them in no time. It seemed like we were a normal couple.

I don’t even know what street I’m on when a car slowly approaches the curb by the sidewalk on which I’m walking. It’s stalling and I slowly start to panic as I near it. I’m going to be kidnapped and die, obviously.

Suddenly it honks and a voice comes out of it that sounds oddly familiar.

I let out a few sobs and wipe my eyes before approaching.

“Anna! Get in!” Vic’s voice is full of worry.

I look at him through the car window, not knowing what to do. I say simply, “Brandon broke up with me.”

Vic’s face is pity, sympathy, and empathy. His brown eyes are looking at me softly, regarding me carefully, as if one wrong move could break me.

But honestly, it probably could.

“I know, do you want to get in?” He pats the passenger seat, as if trying to make it look appealing.

I shrug and drag my feet to the car. I close the door and turn toward Vic. I lean in and put my head in the space where his neck meets his shoulders. The sobs come pounding down on me like waves onto the beach.

Out of nowhere, I feel an immense sadness. It’s as if saying it aloud made it worse somehow.

Vic’s hands are gentle as they rub my back, my arms and occasionally get wrapped up in my hair. His body is warm and I want it to make everything go away.

“Just like that, it’s over…” I choke out and I feel Vic nodding.

“I know, I know… you don’t have to say anything,” he soothes. I only sob harder because Vic always says the right thing.

“Want to know something?” He says softly and I nod slightly. “All of this, in the grand scheme of your life, will mean nothing. Trust me on this one, okay? You can take everything else I say and let it roll off your back, but not this. Okay?”

I try to blink my tears away. Vic continues, “And I mean it. This was your first real relationship. I’m 28 years old and I can honestly tell you that your high school boyfriend will not end up as your husband. I’m sure the memories were great, Anna, but think about it. Would you really consider settling down with someone like Brandon? He’s not even remotely like you. You love to stay in and just chill, Brandon thrives on going to parties every night.”

“That’s a bad example,” I say softly, “I mean it’s not like whether we go out or not is going to determine our compatibility.”

“But think about it,” Vic insists. “You were so unhappy with what he wanted to do. Think about if you had to make more life-changing decisions: like which house you’d want to buy, how you want your wedding to happen, or even how you want to raise your kids. You obviously both want different things.”

I consider this. I also think that Vic is just convincing me because he likes me. But I try not to, because that seems a bit arrogant of me. Vic’s heart is always in the right place and I believe this wholeheartedly.

“Want to know something else?” Vic asks and I shrug.

“Maybe,” I say.

“I was in sociology class, back at the University, and the teacher mentioned piercing the veil. That meant to go directly to the root of a problem and cut it out completely at the source.” Vic was smiling at me as he saw how it clicked. His band name, of course. I nod at him to go on. “I really liked the concept of stopping things that hurt you before they build up over time. Essentially, you should ‘pierce the Brandon veil.’”

Soon I’m laughing, “the Brandon Veil?”

Vic laughs, but uses his hands as he explains in a more serious tone, “Cut him out, he’s the root of your unhappiness. You should stop seeing him or thinking about him so that it won’t build up over time. It may seem impossible now, but you’ll be better off, I know it.”

I smile, “Wow.”

Vic smiles too and suddenly we’re sitting in silence. It does seem pretty impossible to forget Brandon at this point, but making an effort won’t hurt.

“Vic,” I say, “thank you. For everything, you’ve been such a great friend ever since Taco Bell. And sometimes I haven’t given you enough credit. But I appreciate you so much.”

He smiles and nods, happy that he’s finally been probably appreciated. “I know. Now, what do you say we go back to my house and eat all of the cookies Mike made?”

“Mike?” I say and cringe, remembering the grocery store scene.

“Oh, come on. Really? You’re going to be mad at Mike for being at a public place?” Vic says, and puts the car in drive. He puts his hand on my knee and drives away from the curb.

His hand is burning on my knee and I’m nervous. But I like it. “No, but…”

“But nothing. Brandon just needs to get the fuck out of San Diego – hell, California! – Or I will kick him out personally.”

I smile. “Thank you, Victor. I mean it. I’m so glad we’re friends.”

Vic turns to me, smiles and squeezes my knee affectionately. “I know, me too, Anna.”

We both turn to look at the road stretched out before us. And it’s enough for me to feel better. Here, with Vic, with the quiet of his crappy Honda Accord that’s like, 10 years old.

I thought somewhat of Brandon... but mostly how I loved my friendship with Vic. And how I wanted, more than anything, to focus on it and make it stronger.

I want us six - me, Taylor, and the Pierce the Veil boys - to have the strongest, best friendship Southern California has ever seen.