Indian Summer

It was 3:01 a.m on a Friday night and we were parked at the Highway 85 overpass. The spot was like an old friend, always there to greet us in times of need. The steaming concrete glistened with the memory of milestones passed. Our first beers, the one and only time we nearly choked to death attempting to smoke.

Limbs in an easy sprawl, you angled confidently toward the rushing traffic below. Sticky soda pop bottle in hand, you threw your head back and laughed at some dumb comment spewed from my loose lips, a droplet of sweat running down the column of your exposed throat.

“Can you believe it’s over?” The pitch of your voice wavered at the end. Maybe nerves, the tension of disbelief, or maybe just too much caffeine.

“Can you?” I countered, swinging my legs up and together against the gritty asphalt.

“C’mon, Mikey,” you said eagerly, lips upturned in an easy smile, shark teeth flashing brilliant white. “We’ve been waiting for this for like, ever.”

I laughed at your comment, cheeks flushing with mirth.

“How long is ever, anyway?”

“Oh, about twelve years, give or take,” You answered easily, thin fingers knocking against my sweaty forehead. I tried to catch my breath, forever helpless against your casual touches. “You can’t tell me you’re not totally stoked to be done with forced education, dude.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, thoughts dipping toward the inevitable. “I am.”

“That’s the spirit!” You cheered, taking another swig of your lukewarm, syrupy drink, accidentally crushing your graduation cap in the process. “We’re gonna show this summer what it’s all about.”

+

6:25 in the evening and we shivered underneath the thin terry cloth towels your mother bought on sale at Dollar General the summer we both turned 14. That was a bright one, speckled with water balloon fights, greasy cheeseburgers, and my new-found love of rubbing coconut scented sunscreen into your burning hot skin.

Infamous lazy grin sprawled across your sun kissed features, knee gently bumping mine in tune with the sway of your porch swing. The freckles dusting your collarbones nearly glowed in the hazy orange light.

“You think it’ll still be like this once we’re outta here?” You asked casually, pinky finger prodding at the crease of my lobster-red elbow. “You know, at least sometimes, like, during breaks and stuff?”

“I dunno, Brandon.” I answered honestly, helplessly. “Are you even planning on coming back here once you leave for school?”

The unspoken to see me? nearly ripped my throat apart.

“Honestly, Mike? You think I’d ever give this up? You and me, hanging out like we’ve always done. Since we were nine. You don’t just throw something like that away.”

“Yeah, but, things change,” I insisted quietly, hating the whine in my voice, my arm responding to the brush of your fingers like a goddamned touch-starved dog. “People change.”

“I don’t.” You punctuated your words with taps to my fingers, lacing them together with the final syllable. “We won’t.”

+

7:03 a.m and you’re shaking on my porch step, the light in your eyes gone somewhere else, long fingers gripping and releasing a slip of sweat-dulled white paper.

“What’s wrong?” My voice trembled on its way out. “What are you holding?”

You moved wordlessly, the paper hanging in the humid air between us like a bomb waiting to go off. My unsteady hands gripped it carefully. Part of me just wanted to tear it up, burn it to ashes, destroy every last molecule threatening your happiness.

Hastily scrawled information met my eyes. A phone number, address, poorly drawn map leading to some place I’d never been.

“What’s this for?” I asked, voice cracking with hesitation.

“It’s my deployment destination,” You answered, voice so blank, as if the words you uttered weren’t systematically destroying my universe. “Boot camp starts next week.”

The words ripped through me, tearing into my gut, burrowing into my ribs with fervid determination.

“What about school?” I asked dumbly, body beginning to quake.
“What about it?” Your tanned fingers pulled through your curly brown hair, tugging against the roots and creating even more of a mess than usual on your head. “I didn’t get the scholarship for Brown.”

“So go to one of the million other schools you got into!”

“You know my dad’s a Brown alum.” Your sloping shoulders shrugged helplessly, like that one statement explained everything to me.

Only it did. It did and in that moment I’d never hated anything as much as I loathed your father for taking everything I had away from me.

“Well, fuck your Dad, Brandon!” My voice wavered, tears threatening to clog up my tightening throat. “We’ll figure something else out.”

“How is that even possible, Mikey? How is there any other choice for me? You know we don’t have the money. This was my chance. Now I gotta go to plan B.”

Your voice broke in a million pieces, the subtle crack betraying your emotions. Those deep, dark eyes I’d known for nearly ten years began to well with tears, and I just couldn’t take another second.

“I don’t fucking know, Brandon! Maybe it’s possible because you have me. Because you’re the only person I won’t punch for calling me Mikey. Because you’re the one who always makes sure I’m okay. Because you’re who I tell everything to, do everything with. Because you don’t tease me for crying at fucking Pixar movies. Because you staying here and being with me is the only thing that feels right!”

My chest heaved with the force of my confession, like I’d been running for miles and miles with no end in sight. Your face flushed, eyes wide and mouth open, fingers tapping nervously against your jean-clad thigh.

“Mikey, what are you doing—“

“You know what I’m doing. You know. I love you. I’m telling you I fucking love you and I can’t-- What else am I supposed to do?”

I watched as you approached, body tensing, anticipating the punch. Your fingers flexed at your sides, hands coming up to meet my face. I flinched, hard.

A gasp flitted past my lips as I felt the soft, hesitant press of your fingertips against my cheek, curling against my chin, tilting my head up to meet your searching gaze.

“I thought you’d never figure it out,” You breathed, the scent of your trademarked watermelon gum meeting my flaring nostrils. “Thought you’d never see.”

“I’ve always seen you,” I answered, heartbeat rabbiting away in my chest. “I just didn’t think you looked back.”

Your eyes glinted amber in the glaring sunlight, flaring wide and happy at my response. I felt the push of your hands against my heaving chest, backing me up into the blistering brick wall of my house. Your thumbs moved to frame my face, stroking bits of hair away from my eyes—still staring in awe of your actions. I caught a finger between my lips, tongue flicking to tease the pad, pushing against the ridge of your nail. Your eyes lidded, breath hissing through your clenched teeth as the taste of salt and sweat flooded my mouth.

“Can I?” Your voice was wrecked, all heat and gravel against the thick summer air.

My answer was wordless; a lazy nod against your heated skin.

A wicked grin flashed across your features as your mouth moved to close over mine. Your thumb slid out of my mouth with a wet, dirty pop, saliva trailing down over my chin. Your lips were soft but dry, sliding against mine slowly. My back was burning up. I was sure to have third-degree burns from the brick. It wasn’t nearly as hot as you groaning into my opening mouth, tongue pushing against mine like you fucking owned me, belonged there, tickling the roof of my mouth, bumping over the ridges of my teeth. You tasted so, so fucking good, like summer heat and salt and everything I’d ever wanted. Your fingers burned against my hip bones, digging in and dragging me closer until your body was flush with mine. Starbursts bloomed behind my eyes. Our pace slowed over time, lips darkened red and swollen puffy.

You reached around my shaking torso, arms sliding around and drawing my aching back away from the wall with a gritty pinch. You brought your face to my sweat-dampened neck, breathing me in and laughing in relieved bursts against my collarbone.

“God, Mikey,” You huffed, pulling our fingers together with an easy slide. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I’d never.”

The answering mega-watt smile you shot at me was answer enough. In time, we’d figure it out.

We always had.