Vegas Boys

Fall was fast approaching. It was already here, really. I found it hard to believe that I had already been enrolled here, in a unfamiliar public school in Las Vegas, of all places, for over a month, but it was true--the first week of October had come and gone.

By the end of that week, seasonally-decorated flyers advertising the upcoming Halloween dance began popping up all over the school. They were everywhere: on classroom doors, desks, lockers, windows, bathroom stalls--all nagging students to remember the $3.00 entrance fee and come in costume and to bring a date. This last part had my stomach churning every time I saw one of those damn flyers.

I eventually got so annoyed with the flyers that I started yanking them off whatever unfortunate object they were clinging to and throwing them away whenever I saw them. I was disposing of a bright yellow one that had magically appeared on my locker during third period when I heard Matt’s deep laughter behind me.

"I’m guessing you’re not going?" he asked, clearly amused.

A little embarrassed by my Scrouge-like behavior, I felt myself blushing slightly as I explained, "It’s not that, I just--they’re everywhere!"

"Yeah," he agreed, laughing again. "So are you going, then?"

"Well, I don’t--"

"Do you have a date?"

His bright blue eyes were on me, eagerly awaiting an answer. Unsure, I glanced around for Brendon; he was, of course, nowhere in sight.

Brendon hadn’t asked me to the dance yet, and I wasn’t sure if he was planning on it. If he had been my boyfriend, I would have been automatically promised to him--but I wasn’t counting him as such, and therefore, until someone claimed me, I was fair game.

"No," I replied finally.

I knew what was coming next before the triumphant grin spread across his face. "You want to come with me?"

"Um…" I looked around again, as if Brendon might’ve popped up to come to my defense in the past few seconds since I’d last checked. "Sure, I guess so."

"Cool!" He beamed at me and muttered a goodbye, rushing off to class.

Carly, who was leaning casually against her locker, waiting for me, had heard the whole thing. She gave me a funny look. "You’re really gonna go with him?"

I shrugged. "I guess so. Why not?"

She shrugged as well, straightening up. "I just thought you were going with that Urie kid."

I eyed her carefully. "Why would you think that?"

"I don‘t know. Someone said you were."

"Who?" I demanded, a little too sharply.

"Shit, I don’t know, Kelsey," she said, exasperated. "It’s just a rumor, okay? Calm the fuck down."

"I am calm. I was just wondering--"

"Well, it doesn’t matter anyway," said Carly. "It’s just a stupid rumor. I shouldn‘t have even said anything."

"No, you shouldn’t have," I agreed, somewhat sorely.

We walked in silence all the way to class--Carly, because she was irritated with my touchy behavior; and I, because I couldn’t stop thinking about Brendon.

-----

Bravely, I fought the urge to turn my head and look at Brendon a few tables away at lunch that day in the cafeteria, but it was a losing battle; more than once, I waited until everyone else at my table was distracted and tossed my hair over my shoulder and stole a glance at him in between my long locks. Each time I checked, he wasn’t looking at me--but his jaw was set with such defiance and his gaze was turned so carefully away that I suspected that he was ignoring me on purpose. I wondered if he’d heard about my date with Matt yet.

"Kelsey," said Brittany from across the table, bringing me back down from my thoughts, "we’re going out for coffee after school, you wanna come?"

"Uh, sure," I agreed distractedly.

She beamed. "Okay! Just wait for me at my locker after final bell, I’ll give you a ride."

"Okay, thanks." I smiled back at her, genuinely grateful. Maybe going out with some of the girls, as ditzy as they may be, would distract me fromall of this Brendon mess.

As if he had sensed my thoughts and was determined to make everything that much worse, Matt suddenly appeared at my side with a chair, like last time. And, like last time, the girl to my right scooted over to make room and he pulled himself up to the table at my side.

"So," he said conversationally, "what are you going as? To the dance, I mean."

"Um, well--"

"Because I just thought that maybe we could, you know, match. That could be cool, right?" He used his charming smile this time.

"Well, I haven’t really thought about it. At all," I said bluntly.

"Oh, yeah--well, me neither. But I was just thinking, last period…" He went on to list a bunch of suggestions I wasn’t paying attention to, because suddenly Brendon was looking at me.

I had just happened to glance over Matt’s shoulder, and there he was, slouched back in his plastic cafeteria chair, staring at me with a wounded expression. Hurt mingled with confusion in his dark eyes as he looked from me to Matt to the few inches of space between us. His face searched mine for an answer, but I had none, so I looked away guiltily, and when I looked up again, he had done the same.

"…but it’s whatever you want to do," Matt was saying. I sensed the end of a long statement, and nodded for his sake, but it was an automated response--my mind, and heart, were elsewhere.

-----

I was waiting for Brittany at her locker as I’d promised I would, listening to her chattering away incessantly, after school that day when I happened to look up and see Brendon coming towards us. Brittany didn’t notice, of course; but I did, and I held his gaze all the way down the hall until he had finally reached me.

He was looking solemn, by Brendon standards, and my heart thumped in my chest with foreboding. "Hey, Kels," he said, then stopped himself: "Sorry, I forgot you hate that--"

"It’s okay," I said honestly, and then, before I knew what I was saying, "I don’t mind--I mean, it’s okay coming from you." I blushed and looked away before I could see his sad little smile.

"Uh--well--are you busy?" asked Brendon nervously, tossing a glance Brittany’s way; she had fallen silent and was scowling at him as she applied lip gloss. "I kind of wanted to talk to you," he went on in a low voice.

"Yeah, that’s fine, I just, uh--hey, Britt, could you hold on just a sec?" I asked sweetly.

She nodded darkly and started fishing around in her purse for foundation.

Brendon pulled me over to the end of the hallway, where the big ceiling-high windows looked out over the courtyard. As soon as we were alone, though, he seemed to have nothing to say; he shoved his hands deep in his pockets and stared at the dirty floor awkwardly.

"So, um…what’s up?" he asked meekly.

"The sky," I replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, and that one only got old in, oh, about the second grade," said Brendon. My heart jumped up into my throat as he gave me the first genuine smile of the day.

"But I make it work, because I’m cool like that."

"You must be, with all the ‘in-crowd,'" he said in a dorky, overly-emphasized voice that begged for air quotes, "flocking about you all the time."

I rolled my eyes. "They don’t flock, Brendon. They’re not geese."

"They might as well be. They all look the same and sound the same and act the same. And they're kind of mean."

He had a valid point, but I refused to admit to it. "Don’t be such a cynic," I muttered.

"An anti-social cynic? 'I’m only cynical around you,' you know," he quoted me. He smirked, but it wasn't completely triumphant; he looked a little sad, too.

"...You remember that?"

"I remember everything."

I just stared at him for a moment. Somehow, that was the saddest thing I’d heard anyone say in a while.

"So, uh…" Brendon cleared his throat, shuffled his feet. "What’s the deal with that Matt dude?"

My blood ran cold. "What do you mean, what’s the deal?"

He shrugged, pointedly avoiding my gaze. "It just seems like he’s around a lot these days."

"Sitting at my table at lunch--which also happens to be the cheerleaders’ table, if I may remind you--twice does not count as ‘a lot’ and a month does not qualify as ‘these days,’" I said defensively. I took a deep breath and decided to just spit it out: "And, to answer your poorly-phrased question, I’m going to the Halloween dance with him."

At that, I had Brendon’s full attention, and when I saw the hurt in his handsome face, I was sure I liked the awkward lets-not-look-at-each-other charade better. "But…" He opened his mouth and closed it again a few more times, as if he couldn’t find the words he wanted, and I swallowed hard to keep calm. "But…but I thought…I thought we…"

"What, Brendon?" I asked almost coldly as he trailed off.

He looked down again, fidgeting with the zipper of his too-big jacket. "I thought…I thought you were going with…with me."

"You never asked me," I said quietly.

"I didn’t think I had to," he said softly, but there was a note of accusation behind his wounded tone. "I thought we were…I mean, I thought we… We went to the Pink Flamingo!" he spluttered indignantly, as if that in itself explained his outrage.

"...As friends."

He was shaking his head slowly. "That’s not how I meant it."

"Well, you never asked me," I defended myself. "You never asked me to be your girlfriend."

Brendon’s almost angry, betrayed expression cooled to one of despair. He looked down at his hands as he wrung them out nervously, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Well, would it be…I mean, would it be too little too late if…if I asked you…if I asked you now?"

His hopeful brown eyes searched mine desperately for an answer, but I couldn’t find one--my brain was non-respondent, my vocal chords paralyzed. "I--I--" I stammered.

"Kelsey!" called Brittany from down the hall, her cell phone in hand. "Heather just called me--they’re waiting for us at Starbucks!"

"I have to go," I told Brendon in a rush, and hurried away down the hall, leaving him alone and without an answer, or even a goodbye.