Chapter Text
“Bren, honey, turn down the music, we can hear it from here.” My mom says from the front seat. I don’t hear her, music blasting in my wired earphones while I look through my window, drowning out the world.
“Brendon, music! Turn it down!”
I pull an earphone out. “Huh?”
“Music down, sweetie. We’re almost there anyways.” I turn my music down and put the other earphone back in, zoning out for the rest of the ride.
“Hon, we’re here!” My mom’s voice snaps me out of my haze. We pull up into the driveway of the house - beach adjacent. That’ll be nice.
Mom says that I don’t get out enough. That two months of sun and sand will do some good for me.
“Maybe you’ll even meet someone,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at me. I felt awkward and really just wanted to die. My plan for this summer was to lay in bed and listen to music. Read. Eat. Sleep. The good life.
A house at the front and centre of tourism city is fine too I guess.
I unbuckle myself and get out of the car, travelling to the trunk to grab my suitcase. As I’m lowering it to my feet, another car pulls up in the driveway next to us.
“Oh, looks like we have neighbours! Grace, let’s go introduce ourselves.” Dad exclaims. I love my parents, but they’re too friendly sometimes. They’d invite a serial killer in for tea and cookies in favour of being polite.
“Cool. Can we go inside, please? It’s bright…”
“Oh hush, Brendon. We just want to say hi.” Well fine then. Don’t expect me to get all comfortable.
Minutes pass. I’m staring down at my suitcase and willing this to be over already so I can lay in bed with my books.
“Oh really? Ryan here is seventeen too!” A woman’s voice catches my attention, and I look up, seeing another family of three, our neighbours. A mom, a dad, and…
Ryan, apparently.
I take in his outfit. He has a nice style. Streetwear-punk type, something special about it. I like it. I sum up the courage to make eye contact with him. He smiles at me slowly.
“Hey, I’m Ryan,” he drawls. His voice has a nice tone. It sounds like a song. I decide in my head that the song is “The Girl’s A Straight-Up Hustler” by All Time Low for no reason at all, before remembering that greetings typically expect a response.
“Um, hi, I’m Brendon.” I shoot him a small, nervous smile, and he returns it, only more confident. I also decided he has a nice smile. I’d like to see it more. Yeah, I need to go inside now.
“I’m gonna put my stuff away,” I mumble, hurrying inside before my mom can stop me in favour of being “polite”.
I put away my things pretty quickly, even setting up my bathroom with all the toiletries. I look out the front window; they’re still outside. I can’t stay inside forever, but I’d really rather not go face the outdoors again. Five minutes and two sentences was enough socializing for me today. But of course, just my luck, mom spots me through the window and beckons me back down. I sigh and slowly come down to the driveway.
“Bren, the Rosses and I had an idea. We should all eat dinner together tonight! What do you think, sweetie?” I shoot her a shocked look that silently questions her sudden need to be friends with them.
“Uh, sounds good…”
Mrs. Ross pipes in. “Fantastic! Let’s meet at the diner down the road. Deal?”
“Sounds good!” My mom says.
I can feel Ryan’s eyes on me the entire way as I walk back inside.
We head back inside to finish unpacking and to get ready for dinner. Mom tells me to dress up nice. I tell her I’m wearing what I always do. That conversation ends there.
I take a quick shower, dry my hair, and change into new clothes. Subconsciously, maybe I do put in a bit more effort. I put on jeans that aren’t frayed at the bottoms. A long-sleeve under my t-shirt. Necklaces, even. I wear eyeliner sometimes, too. Just a little bit on my waterline when I want to feel handsome. My parents have long accepted it, I just wonder if the Rosses are a different kind of people than my family are.
I decide to wear it anyway. They’re really just strangers, after all. Their judgement shouldn’t matter to me. Although, for an odd reason, I feel like Ryan might like it.
“Bren! Come down, we’re leaving!” I come down the stairs and sit in the hall by the door, sliding on my beat up Chuck Taylor’s that I’ve owned since the 10th grade. They’ll do for tonight. I take a deep breath, trying to soothe the nerves slowly creeping up inside of me. Really, it’s just dinner.
***
“Uries, party of 6, follow me!” A hostess leads us to our table where we sit patiently waiting for the Rosses, who arrive shortly after. They exchange greetings, leaving Ryan to look at me silently. I refuse to meet his eyes, something in my stomach making me feel nervous.
“Hey Brendon,” he waves. I wave back, attempting a smile. He smiles back at me, coming closer. “Are you wearing… makeup?” He asks. I swallow nervously.
“Just eyeliner, yeah.” I say quietly, finally looking up at him.
“Looks good.” He responds calmly. My stomach does something weird again.
“Yeah, thank you…” I barely mumble. He smiles again.
We sit down, Ryan and I are seated next to each other, our legs just barely touching in the cramped booth side. We order drinks and appetizers. Maybe I’ll actually have some fun tonight, I think to myself. Sharing mozzarella sticks with another guy my age shouldn’t make me feel this nervous, though.
***
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” I rush out, walking quickly to the men’s room. The second I close the stall door, I cover my ears and curl in on myself.
It’s just so… loud.
The clinking and the eating and the talking and the footsteps, every noise feels ten times louder. I can only hope that my parents don’t overshare about my… condition. I let out a shuddering breath, wiping my eyes on my sleeve, not noticing the black run-off of the eyeliner staining my shirt. Footsteps echo in the silence of the empty bathroom.
“Brendon?” I hear coming from outside my stall door, a vaguely familiar voice. That same early-Alex-Gaskarth-esque drawl. “You okay?”
I think up a response in my head before settling on “Um, all good”, my voice sounding shaky. Ryan pauses.
“Are you sure?” I hear his footsteps come closer to the door. “I just… your voice sounds kinda off. Just thought I’d check on you.” I wipe my eyes a final time before opening the door and facing him.
“I’m good. I swear.” I reassure him, speaking in a voice that's anything but reassuring. He looks at me like he doesn’t quite believe me, but doesn’t push. “I just don’t wanna talk about it, okay?” I look down at the beige-and-black ceramic tile decorating the floor.
“Okay, that’s fine.” He reassures me, quietly. Patiently. Like he has the time.
“I don’t handle noise well.” I explain slowly. He listens. Not unexpected, but still new to me. “It’s a sensory thing. It’s just weird.”
He looks at me a bit differently, but not in the way you’d imagine. He looks at me like he gets it. “I don’t think you’re weird,” he reasons, bringing a small smile to my face before I can even catch it. “Don’t you have headphones for this?” I shake my head.
“My parents used to let me wear them.” I lean against the stall door. “I didn’t need them one time, and now they think I can just handle it. They don’t want me to wear them anymore.” He considers this.
“You can borrow my airpods, if you want. They have noise cancelling.” My body language softens at the gesture.
“Thanks, man, but if my parents see them, they’ll get upset.” He unclips the case from the carabiner attached to his jeans anyway and takes out the AirPods.
“I don’t know,” he starts, moving closer to me. I don’t back away, the rush of new leaving me frozen. He reaches up, touching the side of my fringe around my ear, tucking it and untucking it. “I think your hair is long enough to hide it.” He hands me the headphones, and after a moment, I accept them, opening the case. It snaps shut as I reach up to put them in, adjusting to the sensation.
He pulls out his phone and presses a button, and the world around me goes quiet. The headphones work, really work. “Good?” He asks.
I look at him, trying to convey my gratitude through only a glance. He smiles softly and shrugs.
“Wanna come back now?” I nod silently, still shy and slightly embarrassed that this is one of his first impressions of me. I take a second to fix my eyeliner, tracing the pencil lightly over my waterline and cleaning up the black mess around my eyes, then follow him back to the table.
An hour later, our families split the bill and we’re ready to call it a night. I was practically falling asleep at the table. It was finally quiet. Peaceful.
When we get to the parking lot, our parents are distracted, talking to each other about the service. I give him back his AirPods and thank him quietly. He smiles at me. While our parents are talking about how the service here is excellent, and we simply must come back again, Ryan has a request.
“Hey, do you think I could get your number?” He asks, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his dark blue JNCO jeans. “It’ll be cool to have someone to talk to here.” My mind buffers for a second, then tells my head to nod.
“Yeah, of course,” I tell him, handing him my unlocked phone to save himself as a contact. “Um, how long are you here for?”
“Six weeks, I think,” he answers, locking my phone and handing it back to me. “You?”
“Cool, same.” I tell him, trying to sound indifferent. He simply smiles at me like he sees right through me.
“I’ll talk to you later, Brendon,” he says quietly, waving and walking to his car.
“Bye, Ryan,” I manage to say, waving back.
***
I get home exhausted, sleepy. I take a warm shower and dress myself in my usual sweatpants and t-shirt sleep combo. I mentally congratulate myself for surviving day one of summer vacation.
Heading downstairs to get a glass of water, I run into my mom at the kitchen counter.
“Hey, ma.” I greet her. She looks up from her phone and smiles at me.
“Hey B,” she rests her phone on the marble-top counter and leans against it. “You have fun today?”
“Um, yeah. I got Ryan’s number, I think we’re gonna hang out more.” She beams at me, lips curving up into a bright smile.
“I’m glad to hear that, hon.” She looks around the room, eyes landing back on me as she lowers her voice to a whisper. “He’s cute, huh?”
“Mom.” I glare at her, but there’s no real heat behind it. She laughs quietly. “That’s enough. I barely met him.”
“Just a reason to get to know him more, I’m just saying.” She stops laughing, opting instead to smile sleepily and yawn. “I’m going to bed, B. Goodnight.”
“‘Night, ma. Love you.” The silence that follows her exit is deafening, leaving me with only my thoughts and this empty cup. I fill it with water from the tap, the sounds from the stream drowning out the thoughts that agree with my mom.
***
I lay in bed, scrolling to try to lull myself to sleep. It, obviously, isn’t helping. I try again to fill the silence, this time with music. I play the songs that sing me to sleep almost nightly and lay my phone on the nightstand.
I already don’t sleep very well, let alone in an unfamiliar city, house and bed. These circumstances don’t work in my favour. I opt to pick my phone back up instead of fighting a losing battle with sleep. As I lay my fingers on the phone, I feel it buzz with a new message, the contact listed as “ry :)”
ry :)
hey its ryan.
what r u up to tomorrow?
Not much of anything, I don’t think. Why?
let’s hang out again.
we’re doing a barbecue i think
I’m vegetarian… but sounds fun. I’m in.
we’ll figure something out. cant wait
Same! See you tomorrow
:)
I put down my phone, mood switching to something brighter, getting excited for the next day ahead of me. I close my eyes, drift off to sleep, and dream of the warm, inviting feeling of sun on my skin. I think maybe, just this time, it won't be all that bad.