Vegas Boys

Brendon and I held hands all the way to school, but once inside the building, we had to face the fact that parting ways was inevitable.

"I'll see you at lunch," said Brendon, then stopped himself and said, "no, before that. I'll see you after first period."

I laughed at him being all boyfriend-ish as he eyed me with concern and kissed me briefly on the forehead.

He slipped a finger under my chin and lifted it, forcing me to look up at him as he studied my face. "Everything's gonna be fine," he said finally, "don't worry." When I didn't look too convinced, he kissed me again, on the lips this time, and released me with a smile.

"Bye," I said sadly as I watched him go.

"I'll see you in, like, fifty-six minutes!" he called over his shoulder.

I just sighed and turned and walked off down the hall in the opposite direction, towards my own locker. The digital clock on the wall changed. Fifty-five minutes to go, I thought dismally.

-----

It was almost as bad as I had expected.

I had hardly even started on my locker combination when Carly, whose locker was right next to mine and who had always been the nicest of all my old "friends," turned to me with a sour expression.

"Where were you all weekend?" she asked, regarding me with unwarranted shock and concern.

I just shrugged and tried to remind myself to be brave and frank. I couldn't screw around with these people anymore; I needed to stand behind Brendon, and find myself some real friends.

"Matt said you left the Halloween Dance with..."

She trailed off, and I turned to her expectantly. "With who?" I challenged sharply. "Go ahead, say it."

Carly gave me this weirded-out look, like I'd just told her I enjoyed bat entrails on my salads. "You mean it's true?"

"If you're talking about me leaving the dance with Brendon, then yes, it's true," I replied bitingly.

She stared. "Okay, so let me get this straight: you dumped Matt...for the Urie kid?"

"His name's Brendon," I snapped. "And yes. Yes, I did."

She just blinked at me a few times, looking completely taken aback and slightly disgusted. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes a little, she turned back to her locker, and scoffed, "I really don't get you, Kelsey."

"I know. That's why we can't be friends anymore." I slammed my locker shut and ignored the shocked look on her face as I shoved past her and made my way to first period.

-----

After that initial confrontation with Carly, the rest of the day passed by pretty smoothly. Gossip spreads at lightning speeds among the popular kids in high school, and most of my old so-called friends had already been informed of what I'd said to Carly earlier; they knew to avoid me, or to give me a disgusted sneer in passing, at the most.

I, for one, was glad to be rid of them. I didn't mind the stares or whispers I attracted as I passed them in the halls, because I knew that I had transcended them, and also that it would pass. In a month, at the most, they would get tired of gossiping about me and "the Urie kid," and forget about the whole thing.

And meanwhile, I still had Brendon, and that was really more than anyone--especially someone in my position--could hope for.

-----

At lunch, I didn't hesitate: I walked right past the cheerleader table, purposefully ignoring all of them, and headed straight for Brendon's table.

I was now the only girl there, but that was okay; after spending two whole months at the cheerleader table, I'd had enough girl conversation to last me for the rest of my high school career, at least. As I sat down beside Brendon and some other guy I didn't recognize, I felt all four pairs of eyes on me.

Brendon squeezed my hand under the table and said, "Oh, yeah--uh, guys, this is Kelsey. Kelsey, this is Brian--" he indicated the guy next to me, and I waved shyly--"Dylan--" that was the guy across the table--"and, uh, you know Spencer."

I shook my head a little in surprise as I looked up and realized that I did know Spencer. "Hi, Spencer," I said delightedly, grinning.

"I'm her favorite, obviously," he told the other two, grinning.

I laughed. "No, I just--I just never noticed you over here before."

"Maybe all the cheerleader boobs were blocking your view," suggested Brian to my right.

"Shut up, Brian," hissed Brendon laughingly. "You're gonna scare her off!"

"It's okay, Brendon," I reassured him. "I can handle boobs. I see them every day, you know."

"Lucky," muttered Brian.

Brendon rolled his eyes and mumbled something like, "No wonder I'm the only guy here with a girlfriend."

-----

Drama was kind of terrifying. I had never really acted before, except for in school plays in elementary school--I had been signed up for Drama by default, because I had enrolled so late and that was the only elective with an opening. But the acting wasn't as much of a problem as the people were; I hated getting up in front of people to do anything. I got nervous and fidgety and forgot things and stumbled over all my words. My public speaking abilities were practically nonexistant.

Brendon sat in the desk to my right that day and kept grabbing my hand across the aisle whenever the rest of the class was distracted, for reassurance. As everyone else applauded another prose presentation, he would flash me an encouraging smile and say, "Don't worry, you've got this. You were great last night."

But last night and today were two completely different scenarios: to act in front of Brendon was one thing, but to act in front of our entire class was something else entirely.

Luckily, none of the other kids who had already got up and given their presentation were going to grow up to be the next Tom Hanks or Meryl Streep, so there wasn't too much pressure, really. If they could do it, I could--or so I kept telling myself.

Every time Mrs. Christenson asked which partners wanted to go next, I would flash Brendon a warning glare that made it clear I would tear off one of his limbs if he so much as thought about raising his hand. I was hoping that we'd run out of time and she would simply excuse whatever groups were left from presenting--but of course there was no way that was going to happen.

We were the very last presenters, which was worse, because I'd had a good forty minutes to sit and worry over our performance. But we had no choice, so I collected some of my guts--which seemed to be turning to mush--and wobbled up to the front of the room.

I sat on a high stool on one end of the room and Brendon got down on one knee on the other end, placing one hand delicately on his chest and gesturing dramatically with the other as he boomed, "But soft! what light through yonder window breaks..."

Time passed extraordinarily quickly--faster than it had when we were just practicing, even. I just focused on Brendon, and the night before, and, miraculously, my nervousness faded and faded until it was completely gone by the time we were done.

Brendon was already at my side as everyone applauded, taking my hand and helping me down off the stool in true Romeo fashion.

"See? I told you!" he exclaimed, beaming. "You were great! You should have trusted me!"

I just laughed as he ruffled my hair affectionately, too relieved that it was all over to dwell on that last part too much.