Page 5 of Dear Mr. Brody

“Ha-ha.” He smirked again, and I found myself smiling as well. “I hear Google is great too.”

“Indeed, Mr. Mills. It is.” I held onto his gaze longer than I should have, and a wide smile spread across his lips.

I couldn’t tell if this guy was a class clown or not, but despite his sarcasm, he seemed like he wanted to be here, unlike his friend who looked half asleep at his side. As I spoke, I raised my voice and Marcos jumped. “Now, for your first assignment.”

Another chorus of groans.

This was going to be a long semester.

Parker

“Why are you so annoying?” I asked as Marcos hovered over my shoulder, his hand on the arm of my desk chair. “Seriously, man. If you want me to go to that club with you tonight, you have to let me finish this essay.”

“You’ve been working on this forever,mijo. Mr. Brody asked for a get-to-know-you essay, not an autobiography.” He fiddled with the small blue feather earring dangling from his earlobe.

“Nice feather.”

“What do you think? I bought it today,” he said, and I shrugged, the motion earning me a slap to the back of the head.

“Ow… I’m sorry. It’s kind of flashy.” I had to press my lips together to stop myself from smiling.

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“That’s why I know it’s perfect. You have terrible taste.” Marcos grinned and dropped his eyes to the document on my screen.

I attempted to close it before he could get a good look at what I’d written, but he reached over me with his long-ass arm and snatched it right off the desk.

“Asshole, you’re going to break it.”

He swiped a handful of his wavy dark hair from his forehead as he sat down on my bed. “Why so secretive?”

“Give me my laptop, shithead. Don’t make me kick your skinny ass.”

He ignored me like I figured he would, reading my damn essay like he had some sort of best-friend-roommate right to invade my privacy. To be fair, there wasn’t much we kept from each other. I’d never hidden anything from him before, and I wasn’t sure why I thought I needed to now. But the smirk on his face while he read my essay had me feeling queasy. If he thought it was crap, my friend who’d always had my back, my ride or die, what the hell would my professor think? Marcos and I had been friends since our first day of basic training in San Antonio when we’d both puked up our guts after running miles in the mid-summer heat. It had been a relief to know I hadn’t been the only one struggling that day. By some sheer magic, we’d both gotten through training and had been stationed at MacDill Air Force Base, in Florida, after graduation. Those four years could stay in the past as far as I was concerned. If it hadn’t been for Marcos, I’m not sure I would’ve made it. Like ashes scattered in the wind, without him I would have been lost. For four years I’d forced myself to stay in a closet I never wanted, and every now and then, I worried some of that darkness would never fade.

“This is good,” he said, surprise coloring his tone. “I guess that public affairs job was useful after all.”

“I basically wrote propaganda for the Air Force, Marcos.” I rubbed my palm over my short hair, a familiar knot twisting inside my stomach. “This class… it’s different. I want to write stuff I’m proud of, stuff for me.”

“It wasn’t propaganda.”

“Close enough.” I stood, not wanting to go down this road. When I was enlisted, it had been my job to make the Air Force look good regardless of the truth. Some days being in the service had been everything I’d thought it would be, and other days I’d rather not revisit. “Give it back.”

Marcos sighed and handed me my laptop. “I think the essay is good, I mean, I’m no expert, but it’s missing something.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

Sensing my mood, Marcos did what he did best. Made me laugh. “In the hopes and dreams portion...” He tapped a finger against his lips. “You forgot to add how bad you want to fuck our new teacher.”

“Christ… get out of here with that bullshit.” I laughed and set my laptop on my desk, opening it before I sat down again.

“Whatever,mijo. Don’t act like you weren’t flirting with him yesterday.Can we call you Donovan?” He mocked. “You might as well have gotten on your knees for him right then and there, it was that obvious.”

“Fuck off.” I tried to sound pissed but my widening smile gave me away. “He’s hot, I couldn’t help myself.”

“You never could,” he said, his smirk a reminder of how well this asshole knew me.

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