Page 43 of Hits Different

I don’t think Simon would thank me for butting into his business either.

“Nothing”, I stash it in my bag and start packing up my breakfast things, “You’re welcome to join me, but there’ll be a lot of cardio involved and developing calf definition is clearly not your top priority”.

He bristles, good naturedly. “Although”, I continue casually, “There’s a bar with a bottomless brunch nearby that I was going to hit up afterwards. Shame to eat alone”.

“Bottomless brunch? What the hell are we waiting for?” He starts clearing my tray for me, bursting into song, much to the alarm of the people sitting next to us. “Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, it’s off to change Simon’s perception of Parker we go…”

* * * *

“Carter, Icannotemphasise this enough”, I say through gritted teeth. “If you don’t shut the fuck up with that goddamn song, I am going to tie you to these goalposts and, and…”

“Unlock a secret level by revealing an interest in BDSM?”

“And leave you here tostarve”, I finish. That shuts him up. I tie the last knot and stand back to survey my handiwork.

Despite Brandon’s abstract definition of the word ‘help’, he’s surprisingly adept at getting his hands dirty. We’ve got most of the nets untangled in record time.

He tosses me a water. This storage shed is filled with so much junk it should be on the shit list itself. There are about a hundred deflated soccer balls, alongside a ton of busted training kit. There’s even an old tent and stove dumped in the corner. I blink as memories threaten to pull me under.

Remember we used to go camping all the time, kid?

Dad took me every few months, no matter the weather. Even when he got so sick that he could barely walk, he still insisted. It was our time. Father and son. Nothing could change his mind.

That’s why I had to pretend to hate it, near the end. Camping in the freezing cold in the middle of chemo would have killed him. Instead, disappointing him just killed me.

Brandon lets out a low whistle. “This place reminds me of your dad”.

When I don’t reply, he comes and sits by me. “He always came for a kickabout after work, remember?”There’s nothing I don’t remember.

“You were thinking about him too, weren’t you?” I’ve got an urge to swallow but my throat is suddenly too tight. “You get this look in your eye sometimes. Like you’re imagining him here with us. I’d forgotten you did it, until just now”. His eyes land on my dad's portrait, embedded on my forearm. “Does it still hurt?”

“He died a long time ago, Brandon”.

“I don’t think time has much to do with it”.

It doesn’t. People die twice. Nobody ever tells you. The first when they stop living. The second when people stop talking about them. “He’d be proud of you”.

“Don’t say that”.

“He would. You’re crushing it at college. Cool job for the summer. Get senior year out the way and the world’s your oyster. Unless”, he catches me sideways. “There’s something you’re not telling me”.

Wordlessly, I slide my phone over.

It’s still open at the email I can’t bring myself to respond to, the one that confirms that as of this morning, I am officially no longer a college student. I risk a glance and can see Brandon having a minor short circuit.

“Oh”, he says softly. Brandon’s always been masterful with a pause. “For fighting?” he adds, managing to use several different inflections on the same word.

It’s worse that he doesn’t say anything else. He’s seen my temper take me down more than once. Brandon’s unshakeable belief that I could be better wasn’t the biggest thing I missed about him when we weren’t speaking, but it was close. “Aren’t you going to tell me I had this coming?”

“You know me better than that”.

“You warned me. You said that I needed to get a handle on it”, I exhale softly, furious at the crack that threatens my voice. “And I tried. I really did”.

He says nothing. Just waits.

I swallow, hard. “There was a party at the fraternity. Darwin’s our president. He actually recruited me. I never planned on pledging. But he has a way of making you feel like you belonged, and I missed that”.

Brandon tugs gently at his collar.

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