We Used to See with Wide Eyes

Slowly but surely, my memories trickle back like water dripping slowly from a facet, more feelings and thoughts and that annoying déjà vu feeling.

I've been changing slowly too, losing those dark shadows and letting that lighter side of me shine through. And people have been noticing.

As I sat across from him as he talked nonstop, both of us coloring in our coloring books, my head twinged and Brendon's voice was muffled and then magnified. He was singing a song under breath one that I was sure that I had heard before…

"Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention."

"Parker! I can't believe that we're done with junior year!" Shelly sighed dramatically and threw herself down in her purple swivel chair that sat in front of her desk. The rest of the room matched, with highlights of purple, just this past summer I had helped her redecorate. It had involved paint fights and lots of giggling laughter.

Shelly was my best friend, other than Lee of course, and I had met her my second day of high school when I collided with her. We had both been lost and late to class. Basically, we were inseparable.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Did I ever tell you about this new band I found? They're from here."

"Parker, are you listening to anything I'm saying?" Brendon's pale face swam into view, disorienting me.

"Of course," I could hear my voice as if it was an echo, "I'm just hungry... need food."

Shelly came back into focus, waving her hand in front of my face, "Jeez, you zoned out on me for a second there."

I laughed; I was prone to doing that. "Sorry, and no you haven't told me about whoever."

She grabbed her laptop from her desk and came over to sit next to me on her bed. Her light brown hair just brushed into her huge blue eyes and she bit her lip like she always did when she was concentrating.

Soon she had a MySpace page pulled up with a picture of four guys who looked our age; they had one demo on the music player.

"Panic! At the Disco," I said, exaggerating the Panic! "They sound dramatic."

"Oh shush," she giggled, "They're pretty good. The quality sucks, but if you listen they're ok."

"Just play it already!" Shelly got distracted very easily.

As I waited, I curled my toes and relaxed them, trying to decide whether it was time to finally take off the months old pedicure.

Finally out of the small speakers came a synth beat and despite the interfering static, the song was jumbled but incredibly catchy.

"Well she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor
just for the attention come on that's just
ridiculous-ly on.
Well she sure is gonna get it,
Here's the setting the fashion magazines line the walls;
the walls line the bullet holes.

Have some composure, where is your posture?
Oh no no. You're pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger.
All wrong.
Oh no no. You're pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger
All wrong.

Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention.
Give me envy, give me malice, baby give a break.
When I say shotgun you say wedding.
Shotgun. Wedding.
Shotgun. Wedding.

She didn't choose this role,
but she'll play it and make it sincere so you cry, you cry.
Give me a break.
They'll believe it from the tears and teeth right down to the blood at her feet.

Boys will be boys, hiding in estrogen and wearing Aubergine Dreams.
Give me a break.

Have some composure, where is your posture?
Oh no no. You're pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger
All wrong.
no no. You're pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger
All wrong.

Come on this is screaming photo op.
Come on come on this is screaming, this is screaming.
This is screaming photo op.

Boys will be boys, baby, boys will be boys.
Boys will be boys, baby, boys will be boys.

Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention.
Give me envy, give me malice, baby give a break.
When I say shotgun you say wedding.
Shotgun. Wedding.
Shotgun. Wedding.

Boys will be boys, hiding in estrogen and boys will be boys.
Boys will be boys, hiding in estrogen and wearing Aubergine Dreams."

"Have you heard anything like it?" Shelly gushed.

"No," I admitted, "It was pretty good. I like the lyrics." They were certainly different.

"I like his voice," she swooned.

Not another obsessive Shelly crush!

"He's cute too." I caught sight of a dark haired boy in a blue polo.

"Shelly!" I groaned.

"Ok, ok," she sighed, "Let's go find the loser boys we choose to hang out with."

"Parker? Are you ok?" Brendon asked, "You seem out of it."

I blinked. I was fully back in the present.

Brendon was looking at me, his brows furrowed in what looked to be concern.

"I'm fine," I said casually and looked down to the sandwich sitting in front of me, slightly surprised to see it there.

I don't think he believed me but nevertheless he went to take a bite of his sandwich that dwarfed mine, and with his mouth stuffed full, he made a motioning noise towards my sandwhich,
"Ithhsss 'ummmy. Eat."

He still looked a little worried.

"Hey Bren," I asked nonchalantly, picking up my sandwhich, trying to get his mind off of things I didn't want him to know, "Have you heard of a band called Panic! At the Disco?"

He froze, mid-bite - a reaction that I wasn't expecting. He closed his eyes for a second and finished chewing. Confused, I waited for him to answer me.

Eyes to the table, he said, "Yeah they were around a few years ago."

"Oh," I remarked cautiously, "Were you singing one of their songs a minute ago?"

"Yeah, I guess. What time is it?" He was speaking in short breaths and I could see that he was fidgeting.

Something was up. I had to turn to look at the clock on the wall behind me; that clock had always been there. It was easier to him to look, instead though; his eyes were darting around the room.

"Are you ok?" I asked instead of turning around. I have no idea where this behavior is coming from.

"I'm fine," he jumped up, "I just – I just realized that I promised to… help my friend with something, and I forgot. I'll see you later."

And he left.

No real word of explanation. Maybe that song had some larger meaning to it, like a link to this tragedy that Mac mentioned. I'm positive that there was no forgotten rendez-vous... It was so easy to forget when Brendon was around, that he – or I – had anything less than a normal life. I guess I felt average around him, with his bundle of energy and his readiness to always crack a joke.

I shouldn't forget though.

I sighed and swept the wayward crayons and books into my bag and slid out of my booth. There was nothing left here for me today. There was no reason to stay anymore.