Chapter 175
Brandon didn’t say anything, only nodded slowly, his eyes focused on the back of the seat in front of him.
I continued, wondering if it would help him to hear more about his dad or if he wished I’d just stop talking. I figured he’d let me know if he wanted me to stop. “A few weeks before he… before Sierraville, I was having trouble with this guy at school. He was such a ….”
Brandon offered a word I wouldn’t have said myself, so even though I giggled, I completed my sentence myself. “I was going to say dirt bag, but okay. We can use your word. Anyway, he kept asking me for help with his homework. He’d pretend like he liked me, you know? Flirt with me and stuff. And we’d hang out in groups, and he’d pay extra attention to me. So, right after I helped him study for this big test, he asked Lucy to the homecoming dance.”
“Lucy? Your friend? Wow.”
“I know, right?” For some reason, going back over everything with Liam was therapeutic, so I just kept right on talking. “Of course Lucy said no. And then he tried to explain to me that he was just trying to be nice, but Lucy didn’t need his sympathy. She’s got a ton of guys asking her out all the time. So… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should give him another chance or just walk away.”
It was quiet for a moment, like he was waiting to see if I’d continue on my own before Brandon asked, “What did you do?”
“I tried calling Cadence, but she was super busy. I talked to my mom, and she said something I didn’t even understand, something about there being plenty of fish in the ocean but only some of them are silver tunas.”
“Whatever that means….”
“Right?” I hoped someday he’d get to meet my mom so he could see for himself how wonderfully odd she is. “Anyway, I called your dad, and he seemed busy so I couldn’t say much. So, he hung up. But then, about two hours later, he showed up. At my house. Just like that—because he knew I needed him.”
“Wow,” Brandon said. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah, it was. So, anyway, I ended up pouring my heart out to Elliott. I cried on his shoulder, and he just listened. And when I was done, he said, ‘Do you want some advice?’ Well, of course I did, and he said, ‘Scrape him off, Cass. You don’t need him. Anyone who would treat you with that amount of disrespect isn’t worth your time.’” I wasn’t exactly sure that was a direct quote, but that was the sentiment I’d gotten. Elliott had been so helpful in moving me on past Liam. I was staring at my hands, and Brandon’s voice cut through my thoughts.
“And?”
“And I did what he said. I told Liam—that’s his name—that I didn’t want to go out with him.” I didn’t bother to mention the laughing in his face part, since that seemed sort of cruel, now that I thought about it. I continued, “I wasn’t looking for someone who only thought about himself. I want someone that, as your dad put it, ‘would be willing to take a silver bullet to the lungs for me.’”
“Okay—that seems a little specific,” Brandon muttered before adding, “but it sounds like my dad gave you pretty good advice.”
“Yeah, he usually did,” I agreed. I didn’t bother to explain the silver bullet reference right then. Thinking of Elliott giving good advice reminded me of all the other things Brandon had missed out on. I relayed some of my favorite memories. “He was hilarious, too. And he wasn’t afraid to be silly—to wear a Santa hat or sing Lionel Richie songs while driving my mom’s minivan. He was an incredible person.”
I noticed Brandon was rubbing his eyes and squinted at him. “I think I have some dust in my eyes.”
I thought he was just joking around, like I thought he should be sad, so I giggled. “It’s okay to be sad that you never got to meet him.”
“No, I’m fine. Just my horrible dust allergies,” he said, but I could tell he honestly did have tears in his eyes. I hoped he didn’t mind me telling the story since it had brought up that kind of emotion for him.
I thought about how my sister seemed to think Brandon was so much like Elliott, but I didn’t see it quite that way. “You are a lot like your dad, but you’re a lot different, too. And I’m glad you are your own person.” I put my hand on his arm so he’d turn back to face me, which he did.
Brandon was staring at my lips. He was so close to me, only about an inch or two away. I’d never been kissed before, and it made me super nervous to think he might kiss me right there on the Amtrak train, so I took my hand off of his arm and scooted back, just a bit, hoping not to hurt his feelings. I didn’t know what to make of him yet, though I thought he was an amazing guy.
“Right,” Brandon mumbled. He seemed either irritated or embarrassed, thinking I must’ve been uncomfortable to have him so close, looking at me like that. “Uh, thanks. I wish I would have known him, too. He seems like a super guy.”
“He was,” I agreed, looking away. Then, I said something I probably shouldn’t have. “Makes me wonder what happened between him and your mom.”
“Yeah, I don’t know,” Brandon admitted, “and I don’t think I want to talk to her about it either. My mom is … complicated.”
I turned to look at him, seeing that he was resolute on the avoidance of his mother, and I was willing to respect that. Forcing a smile, I reminded him, “Well, you’ve got a whole new life now, so the past is the past.”
“Exactly,” he agreed, nodding. “Time for new beginnings.”
We sat in silence for a long moment. I tried not to think about the bathroom, wondering if I could get my book back, and Brandon stared at the seat in front of us. Eventually, he broke the silence. “Liam? Sounds like a British boy band reject name.” Then he began repeating it in various British accents. “Liam. Liam. Liam. Liam….”
“Stop it,” I begged, giggling. It was really funny, but I felt sorry for Liam. It wasn’t his fault he was a little manchild. “He isn’t a bad guy. He’s just not very mature.”
“Lucky you, you’re with a man now,” Brandon said in his deepest voice while striking a pose that reminded me of the lumberjack from the Brawny paper towels.
I laughed even louder. Some of the sleepers around us actually shushed me. I leaned over and whispered sharply, “Don’t make me laugh, I have to pee!”
“This conversation is circular,” Brandon whispered back. “Go to the bathroom! I’ll go with you. I’ll stand right outside.”
“No! I shall not pee until Philly!” I said, realizing my rhyme was even lamer than his.
“Suit yourself. But I’m going to sit here and read my book and talk about waterfalls. And oceans. And spraying fountains….” He opened my book back up and flipped to where he’d left off.
“Stop!”
“And puddles. And lakes. And roaring rivers…”
“Seriously, Brandon.”
“There’s no way you can hold it for another decade!”
I was resolved to proof him wrong. And I did, for about another hour, while he read my book, and I stared at nothing, thinking about not having to go to the bathroom. “Okay,” I finally whispered. “I’ll go—but only once. So don’t let me drink anything else.”
“Fine,” he said, putting my book down. “I’ll go with you.”
Quietly, we tiptoed through the aisle. I had to go so bad, I thought my bladder was going to burst and I was going to die right there on the train. I knew I didn’t want him actually listening to me pee, either so I made him stand far back away from the door. I did my best to make sure there was nothing else in the tank so that I could hold it the rest of the way, but I figured that would be a challenge as well.
When I came out, he was standing there with a smirk on his face that made me wonder if he’d actually heard. “Did you wash your hands?” he asked.
They were still a little damp, so I couldn’t help but wipe them on his shirt. “Nope,” I said, a twinkle in my eyes. He pretended to be disgusted and we both started laughing, which managed to get us more shushes from people I couldn’t even see.
Brandon walked me back to our seat before he went off to use the restroom himself and find a snack. I leaned over against the window and rested my head there, looking out at blackness and wondering when the sun would be up. It shouldn’t be too long now. By the time he got back, I had mostly dozed off again, and when he slipped his arm around my shoulders, I didn’t protest resting my head on him again. He smelled a lot like his dad, and I felt warm and safe, despite the fact that this train was likely barreling toward my own self-inflicted destruction. At least I wasn’t headed there all alone.
