Sequel: Cancer ›
Vegas Boys
Chapter 12
Partners. Me and Brendon. Brendon. Shit.
What the fuck did I do to deserve this? I'd have to go on a mass murdering spree and then stab a baby or something just to rack up that many bad karma points.
Feeling the color drain from my face, my stomach turned as I glanced over at Brendon. He was beaming, of course, and when he caught me looking, he winked at me again. I turned away.
There were thirty other people in the whole class, and I was stuck with him--the one person I was so desperate to escape. What were the chances of that happening?
He was looking away now, focusing on the teacher as she described our assignment, and I took the opportunity to study his face. But...God, he was beautiful--I couldn't deny that.
-----
"So, when do you want to get together?"
"...What do you mean?" I asked dully, readjusting my loaded bookbag on my shoulder and staring purposefully at the dirty sidewalk instead of at Brendon, as per usual.
And, as per usual, he wasn't phased at all by my distinct lack of enthusiasm. "To work on the project. You know--for Drama."
"Oh--that." I couldn't help but wince a little; I'd been trying to avoid thinking about it since fifth period. "I don't know. I mean, we've got lots of time. It doesn't have to be anytime soon."
"...Or it could be soon," suggested Brendon, and I could hear the amusement in his voice, and I hated myself for the little rush of something like affection it evoked in me. "Like, tonight."
"Or like, never," I said sourly.
"Hmmm..." mumbled Brendon, pretending to be in deep thought. "So you'd rather take an F than have to see me outside of class?"
"Good!" I said brightly, turning to face him for once, my faux cheery tone full of sarcasm. "You're catching on! Maybe you're not as stupid as you look after all."
Brendon was shaking his head. "You know, someday you're going to regret treating me like this."
"I know. I'm gonna wish I'd just kicked your ass in the first place like I said I would, and then I wouldn't have to put up with your shit all the time."
"Hey, Kelsey, seriously--" He stopped walking and grabbed me firmly by the shoulders, bending down so close to me that his cool breath was warm on my face, and, oh shit, what was I saying again?
He didn't notice my sudden lack of thinking capabilities. "I think you've been taking too many bitch pills lately, you should probably check with your doctor."
I paused for just a moment too long before overcoming the power of his intense gaze, and pushed him off. "Whatever, Urie. Just get the hell away from me, okay?"
Brendon caught up with me again as I started stalking off, and I could already sense a taunting coming on. "You know," he said in an obnoxiously matter-of-fact tone, "I can walk wherever I want. This sidewalk's public property, and as an American citizen, I have a right to walk on it, god damn it! I don't care how much money your daddy's got, you don't own--"
"What?" I demanded sharply, whirling around to face him--startled, the amusement left his face, and he took a step back. Obviously confused, he just gave me a questioning look, so I clarified, "What did you say about my dad?"
Brendon studied my face, struggling to decipher my meaning. "Uh...'I don't care how much money--'?"
"You think my dad's rich?" I cut him off mid-sentence.
His face, previously contorted with surprise and fear, relaxed into an amused expression. "I don't think he's rich. I know he is."
Somehow, that resonated like an insult through me, and for a moment, I seriously considered slapping him for the second time since we'd met.
But I controlled myself, because I wasn't through with him yet. "Is that why you're so desperate to get in my pants?" My voice was painfully mocking, even to my ears--but all at once, I felt so naive, so taken advantage of, and I was angry. I wanted revenge. "Because you want some of my money?"
Now it was Brendon's turn to be offended. "Look, I'm not desperate for anything. I don't want to get in your pants. And I don't need your fucking money." He scowled bitterly at me and turned on his heel, quickening his pace as he walked away from me.
I hurried to catch up with him, and I couldn't hide my triumphant smirk. "Oh, how the tables have turned," I taunted him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" growled Brendon out of the side of his wide mouth without looking at me.
"Now you want to get away from me. How's it feel to have the shit pestered out of you?"
He stopped in his tracks for what felt like the millionth time that day and gave me a stern look. "I don't want to get away from you. It's simply become apparent to me that you no longer desire my company."
He started walking away again.
Just as he had done to me, I darted up to his side, getting up in his face a little as I asked, "Are you pissed now that you've been found out? Is that it?"
"I wasn't found out," snarled Brendon with such intensity that I actually took a step back, shrinking away from him and his anger. His penetrating stare bore into my soul for several seconds of silence, and then he said quietly, "I can't believe you would even think something like that about me. I'm not like that. You should know that by now."
"How?" I snapped, annoyed that the one time he decided to be serious was over something stupid like this. But something had shifted between us and I felt the smile slide off my face; his usual one was nowhere in sight, and that just urged me on, somehow. "How could I know, Brendon? I don't even know you."
He stared at me, hard, for a moment longer, then spat viciously, "Well, it's not like I never gave you a chance to."
It wasn't until I had watched him dash up onto his front porch and slam the door behind him with a flustered, distinctly non-Brendon-ish clumsiness that I realized I was already home.
What the fuck did I do to deserve this? I'd have to go on a mass murdering spree and then stab a baby or something just to rack up that many bad karma points.
Feeling the color drain from my face, my stomach turned as I glanced over at Brendon. He was beaming, of course, and when he caught me looking, he winked at me again. I turned away.
There were thirty other people in the whole class, and I was stuck with him--the one person I was so desperate to escape. What were the chances of that happening?
He was looking away now, focusing on the teacher as she described our assignment, and I took the opportunity to study his face. But...God, he was beautiful--I couldn't deny that.
-----
"So, when do you want to get together?"
"...What do you mean?" I asked dully, readjusting my loaded bookbag on my shoulder and staring purposefully at the dirty sidewalk instead of at Brendon, as per usual.
And, as per usual, he wasn't phased at all by my distinct lack of enthusiasm. "To work on the project. You know--for Drama."
"Oh--that." I couldn't help but wince a little; I'd been trying to avoid thinking about it since fifth period. "I don't know. I mean, we've got lots of time. It doesn't have to be anytime soon."
"...Or it could be soon," suggested Brendon, and I could hear the amusement in his voice, and I hated myself for the little rush of something like affection it evoked in me. "Like, tonight."
"Or like, never," I said sourly.
"Hmmm..." mumbled Brendon, pretending to be in deep thought. "So you'd rather take an F than have to see me outside of class?"
"Good!" I said brightly, turning to face him for once, my faux cheery tone full of sarcasm. "You're catching on! Maybe you're not as stupid as you look after all."
Brendon was shaking his head. "You know, someday you're going to regret treating me like this."
"I know. I'm gonna wish I'd just kicked your ass in the first place like I said I would, and then I wouldn't have to put up with your shit all the time."
"Hey, Kelsey, seriously--" He stopped walking and grabbed me firmly by the shoulders, bending down so close to me that his cool breath was warm on my face, and, oh shit, what was I saying again?
He didn't notice my sudden lack of thinking capabilities. "I think you've been taking too many bitch pills lately, you should probably check with your doctor."
I paused for just a moment too long before overcoming the power of his intense gaze, and pushed him off. "Whatever, Urie. Just get the hell away from me, okay?"
Brendon caught up with me again as I started stalking off, and I could already sense a taunting coming on. "You know," he said in an obnoxiously matter-of-fact tone, "I can walk wherever I want. This sidewalk's public property, and as an American citizen, I have a right to walk on it, god damn it! I don't care how much money your daddy's got, you don't own--"
"What?" I demanded sharply, whirling around to face him--startled, the amusement left his face, and he took a step back. Obviously confused, he just gave me a questioning look, so I clarified, "What did you say about my dad?"
Brendon studied my face, struggling to decipher my meaning. "Uh...'I don't care how much money--'?"
"You think my dad's rich?" I cut him off mid-sentence.
His face, previously contorted with surprise and fear, relaxed into an amused expression. "I don't think he's rich. I know he is."
Somehow, that resonated like an insult through me, and for a moment, I seriously considered slapping him for the second time since we'd met.
But I controlled myself, because I wasn't through with him yet. "Is that why you're so desperate to get in my pants?" My voice was painfully mocking, even to my ears--but all at once, I felt so naive, so taken advantage of, and I was angry. I wanted revenge. "Because you want some of my money?"
Now it was Brendon's turn to be offended. "Look, I'm not desperate for anything. I don't want to get in your pants. And I don't need your fucking money." He scowled bitterly at me and turned on his heel, quickening his pace as he walked away from me.
I hurried to catch up with him, and I couldn't hide my triumphant smirk. "Oh, how the tables have turned," I taunted him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" growled Brendon out of the side of his wide mouth without looking at me.
"Now you want to get away from me. How's it feel to have the shit pestered out of you?"
He stopped in his tracks for what felt like the millionth time that day and gave me a stern look. "I don't want to get away from you. It's simply become apparent to me that you no longer desire my company."
He started walking away again.
Just as he had done to me, I darted up to his side, getting up in his face a little as I asked, "Are you pissed now that you've been found out? Is that it?"
"I wasn't found out," snarled Brendon with such intensity that I actually took a step back, shrinking away from him and his anger. His penetrating stare bore into my soul for several seconds of silence, and then he said quietly, "I can't believe you would even think something like that about me. I'm not like that. You should know that by now."
"How?" I snapped, annoyed that the one time he decided to be serious was over something stupid like this. But something had shifted between us and I felt the smile slide off my face; his usual one was nowhere in sight, and that just urged me on, somehow. "How could I know, Brendon? I don't even know you."
He stared at me, hard, for a moment longer, then spat viciously, "Well, it's not like I never gave you a chance to."
It wasn't until I had watched him dash up onto his front porch and slam the door behind him with a flustered, distinctly non-Brendon-ish clumsiness that I realized I was already home.