"Ahhhhhhh," I shout. "Kill it! Kill it!"
"Stay still," Brandon commands.
"BRANDON, it looked at me. It KNOWS."
I wail from the top of my lungs so loudly that I hit a note that would make Mariah Carey blush. At this point, I'm starting to think Wonder Boy has it out for me. First, he woke me up from my sweet dream to walk through the scorching sands of the Sahara desert. And now, he's leading me deeper into a den of mountain lions, coyotes, and deadly serpents.
And I don't care what he says; I know they're hiding in the overgrown grass, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I hope Brandon knows I'm not above using him as a human shield to avoid getting bit on the ass.
Brandon covers my mouth as the snake slithers away from the trail. "Just stay still, Ebony."
"If I die, I'm killing you next," I say, slapping his hand away.
Brandon shakes his head, continuing down the path. "You haven't even noticed where we are."
"Well, my life was flashing before my eyes." I criticize.
"Just so you know, I would never let anything happen to you." Brandon steals a long, uncomfortable glance.
Instead of escaping this endless circle, I do what I always do. I stare cluelessly at the dirt road ahead, avoiding eye contact until the knots disappear from my stomach. It's hard not to call myself a coward when the only time I notice the wilderness is after he looks at me. My heart pounds inside my chest as the trail curves past an infamous Los Angeles attraction.
"Is that the Hollywood sign?" I whisper.
"You finally noticed." Brandon smiles outright. "If you think it's breathtaking, wait until you reach the top."
I wait until he walks past me. "It's not the only one," I confess, following behind him as he maneuvers to the top. The small patches of overgrown grass cling to the mountain, framing all nine letters in the Hollywood sign. This day may have been one exhausting experience after the other, but I understand why Brandon lives on the edge.
"It's beautifulâ. . ." My foot slips as I climb the mountain.
Brandon reaches out and catches me in his arms. For a moment, we gaze deep into each other's eyes. After he realizes I'm safe, the terror fades from his irises. As I try to decipher him, he pulls me to my feet. I notice immediately that only a few inches separate us. I tug on the end of my shirt, directing my gaze to the fabric.
"You should be more careful." He raises my chin to meet his soft gaze.
"Shit. Sorry." I curse under my breath.
Brandon stuffs his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. "There's nowhere left to run."
"Yeah," I over-articulate. "This is incredible."
"Sure, Mt. Lee was always beautiful, but my view is even more breathtaking." Brandon grabs a stray curl as it blows in the wind and runs his fingers along every curve until it rushes from his grasp.
"Umm, yeah, breathtaking. B-Beautiful. Enchanting. Spellbinding. Or even intoxicating . . ."
I lose my train of thought as he presses his soft lips against mine. The breeze races through my hair, and electricity flows through my chest. I close my eyes and picture fireworks exploding directly over us. Is it too much to ask that this moment last forever?
The second my brain realizes our lips are connecting, every atom in my being spirals out of control. Brandon grabs my waist before my body drills a hole through the mountaintop from the shivers shooting up my spine. He softly kisses my lips, pulling me closer until the rollercoaster ride ends. He stops, and with one gaze, he steals all the air inside my lungs.
Brandon waves my cell phone in his left hand. "Woah, that kiss was amazing. . . but I'm sorry." He stares at me, biting down on his bottom lip.
"It's fine," I mutter, reaching for my phone, but his grip tightens.
"Tell me something I don't know about you."
At this point, I'm operating ten moves behind the beautiful chaos erupting inside Brandon Lockwood's mind. I don't think I'll ever understand why he keeps apologizing for the best moments of my life. It's like he's afraid to be honest with himself, so he keeps tormenting me with his lips. Does he want to kiss me or push me away? I never know what side I'll get, whether it's Wonder Boy or the Toy Soldier.
The boy who's enrolling in the army follows all the rules, but the superhero listens to the beat of his own heart. Even now, he expects me to dodge the obvious question and pretend that it wasn't the best kiss of my entire life.
Sure, he's the only guy I've ever kissed, but he must've felt that surge of electricity. I can't be the only one who saw a blank canvas suddenly written in a million beautiful swatches of color. At first I didn't even notice all the words on the picture until I was left gasping for air.
My life flashes before my eyes, and suddenly, the image is crystal clear. Each word describes my explosive emotions, and Brandon wants to take all those life-changing feelings back.
Our kiss was Breathtaking.
It was Beautiful.
It was Enchanting.
It was Spellbinding.
It was Intoxicating.
"Okay," I turn around in a random direction, but before I start walking, I tell him, "I'm about to leave."
Brandon grabs my wrist. "I thought I already told you there's nowhere left to run."
A river of tears I can't blink away swells in my eyes. "Everyone only sees the girl who was suddenly too stupid to read out loud in front of the class."
"Ebony, you forgave Roxane for pulling out your fucking hair, but you can't even forgive yourself!"
"You don't know anything about me."
I sit close to the edge, hugging my knees against my chest. I'm sick of gouging out my insides until there's nothing left but numbness. I said I wouldn't bargain with God because I knew he wouldn't answer. I was angry and stupid. But I swear I won't judge my dad for refusing to acknowledge my mom's existence. Please don't make me talk about what happened.
"I don't want to waste another night thinking if you're crying yourself to sleep because of something I said. Or something I didn't?" Brandon drops his daypack on the ground and sits right next to me.
I stare at the clear blue sky, imagining a pool of blood painting over the horizon. The light drains from my mother's cheerful eyes, and suddenly, all I can see is death.
No. No. No. No.
Get out of my head!
"Get out of my head," I whisper until she comes back to life in my mind.
Brandon clenches his fist unconsciously. "You let life pass you by while you sleep the days away in your room. I can't be the only reason you're alive."
"Please, just shut up, Brandon. Shut up." I whisper.
"You said being around me was like peeling an onion. Just when you thought you had the full picture, I showed you another side." Brandon swallows hard.
"The more I peel back, the smaller I feel," I say, rehearsing the last thing I said about him.
"Everyone thinks I'm a screwup." He finally says, "My dad can be a real asshole, but he's usually right."
I tap my foot against the ground. "You're not a screwup."
"You're not an idiot." Brandon looks at my phone, glancing at my Lock Screen.
After a few minutes of examining my mother's picture, his vision flickers from me back to the screen; I wish I could be a fly on the wall inside his mind. Even he's wondering about the beautiful woman that appears as my screensaver. She had splatters of paint all over her white t-shirt in that particular photo. When I caught her in the garage, she asked me whether the clouds in her painting reminded me of tranquility.
She had flawlessly captured the day she and my dad bought their first house together. My parents stood by the for sale sign as she held a small infant. When I grew into my toddler years I took a pair of scissors to all of my baby pictures. I turned all of our cherished memories into a bucket of confetti. My mom spent four years repainting the entire photo album, and now, each painting has been reduced to ashes.
"She was my mom," I say, holding back tears.
His nostrils flare as he stares at the screen. He shoves my phone in his pocket. Then he forces me into a tight embrace. "You don't have to talk about her."
"I was 14." I grip his shirt, breathing heavily until I inhale sandalwood and warm amber notes.
"You don't have to say anymore if you're not ready," Brandon whispers.
I want to tell him everything, but this pressure keeps pushing against my chest. No matter what I do, I can't escape the echoes of my mother's death. Even when I try to speak about the vicious attack, I'm not even capable of speaking simple sentences.
Brandon sighs deeply, rubbing my back. "Why did you have to make things so complicated?"
I profusely shake my head. "It wasn't me."
"When we were at Leigh Ann's diner, I lied to you."
"What are you saying?" I crane my neck to watch him.
"I heard you leave the bathroom," Brandon takes a deep breath. "I promise I won't let Donovan hurt you."
"Why did your friends try to fight you? Who is Amber? What did I do to Donovan? Why does he hate me?" I ask him, my voice shaky. All the questions I've pushed to the back of my mind have finally resurfaced.
Brandon stares at me, losing himself in his thoughts. "Last year, Donovan ran over one of our classmates."
"Is she dead?" I ask incredulously.
"No, but she used to be a straight-A student. After the accident, she was never the same."
Brandon cracks his knuckles rhythmically as if the sound somehow brings him peace. He repeatedly shakes his head in disbelief, unable to say anything else. I can tell the guilt is eating him alive the second tears fall from his eyes. I watch him in silence, unable to comfort him while his heart continues to shatter. He's been protecting me this entire time, and I still can't think of a single way to ease his pain.
I helplessly wrap my arms around him, using every muscle that I have to squeeze him until he knows I'm here. If I can't do anything else to ease his pain, then at least I can show him that I'm here for him.
"What happened?" I finally ask.
"I remember everything, even Amber lying on the ground with her legs twisted in different directions," Brandon says, resting his head on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry you went through that." I apologize.
Brandon pulls away. "I didn't go through anything. I just watched her almost choke to death on her blood."
I gaze off into the comely cityscape, wondering how much agonizing pain she must've endured.
"Amber kept rejecting Donovan at the party," Brandon announces. "when I made him get out of the car, the bastard looked at her body and smiled."
"How could you be friends with him after all that time?" The words leave my mouth with a bitter taste.
I thought Brandon couldn't do anything to lose my trust, but now I'm questioning everything. Taking the phone call into account, after a year, Brandon still hasn't said anything to the police.
How could he stand by and watch her suffer? I don't know if I'm stunned or starting to realize that being with Brandon isn't all it's cracked up to be. From a different angle, he was the boy of my dreams, but now I can only think about her lying helplessly on the pavement. It's incredible because somehow, even after all these lies, I still don't know how to stop loving him.
"I believed him when he said it was an accident. I don't know why, but I fucking believed him." Brandon says, flaring his nostrils.
"So you're teaching Learning Strategies and enrolling into the army because you're guilty? What about when we started hanging out? Was that out of guilt, too?" I raise my voice, crossing my arms in defense.
"There's that same look I never wanted to see from those innocent eyes," Brandon confesses.
I reach for his cheeks and wipe his tears away. "Brandon, I can't hate you even if I wanted to."
"Are you sure about that?"
"I watched my mother die in a home invasion. I have to live with that for the rest of my life." I say, hiding the sorrow in the cracks of my voice.
As defeated as we are, Brandon still catches me off guard with another kiss. This time, it feels real, not because of the fear that lingers behind it. Instead, our tongues whirl around in each other's mouths, and I can sense his excitement to continue our embrace. The red sunset casts over our authenticity, slowly making our relationship a reality. I haven't been this exposed since my mother died, and despite everything that's happened between me and Brandon, I'm all in.