Chapter 2-2
847 Words
Brandon had just gotten out of the shower when he heard the mad ringing of his doorbell. Whoever stood on his doorstep was pressing the button over and over again. He shrugged into the blue terry cloth robe he used to dry off, and headed for the front door. He was fairly certain he knew who was abusing his doorbell.
Just as he popped his glasses into place, he opened the door.
“Veronica,” he said.
Veronica Stetson—she’d been Veronica Rowley before—had been his best friend through much of his school years. They’d both been miserable geeks most of those years, clinging desperately to each other. They’d formed a clique of two.
She’d grown out of her awkward stage and now was a pretty little blonde with a husband and two little kids. Still his best friend though.
“Did you see it?” she demanded immediately, emphasizing what she meant by sticking the envelope from the reunion right in his face.
“Yes, I saw it,” Brandon said. He held the door open wide for her to step inside, then closed it behind her. “You’re not thinking of going, are you?”
“Me? Hell, no. Jimmy would never want to go. He didn’t even go to his own, let alone mine.” Jimmy was her husband. Brandon quite liked him. “Besides, those people were horrible. I don’t want to see any of those bitches and bastards.”
Brandon followed her as she headed to his kitchen. She helped herself to a cup out of the cabinet and then poured herself some coffee.
“But it’s at your resort.”
“It’s not my resort. I’m just the assistant manager,” Brandon said. He took out the flavored creamer and pushed it into her hands. “But yeah, I saw that, too. I’m working that whole weekend. I already got the schedule for it.”
“So far in advance?”
“A lot of planning goes into those events.” Brandon sighed. “I’m just hoping no one will recognize me.”
Veronica, who wore a red velvet jogging suit, though Brandon knew she never went jogging, took a sip of her creamer with a little coffee. “Did you see the list of those who are attending?”
He shrugged. “Was it attached?”
“No. There’s a link you go to on their Web site, and they have the whole list. I’ll show you.”
Brandon glanced down at his robe. “Can I change first?”
“No. This is your day off. Why the rush? Besides, I’ve seen you naked. There’s nothing to see.” She tugged at the lapels of his robe.
He swatted her away. “Hey, do you mind?”
She rolled her eyes and headed out of the kitchen to the spare room, where he’d set up his computer. By the time he entered the room, she’d already powered up his desktop PC.
“I’m glad you aren’t pushy or anything,” Brandon said sarcastically.
She ignored that and instead said, “You look cute with your glasses on. You should wear them more often.”
He’d abandoned using his glasses outside of his house years ago in favor of contacts. Contacts, straight teeth, clear skin, and an expensive salon haircut and dye job had gone a long way to making Brandon happy and presentable to the world. To him, anyway. Veronica claimed he had always been a cutie.
Brandon pushed her aside to sit in his own computer chair. After signing in to his e-mail, he asked for the link.
“Click right there,” she said, pointing to the link that read List of Attendees So Far in neon red.
He scowled, muttered something about being able to read, and clicked the link. Folding his arms across his chest, Brandon asked, “And just what am I supposed to see?”
She smirked. “Check out the names under O.”
Indulging her, Brandon looked. And then he saw it.
Timothy Olfander.
His stomach flopped and then flipped. He covered his eyes, then uncovered them and looked again. It hadn’t changed.
“Ah, shit.”
Veronica nodded. “Can you believe it? Your high school crush. The man of your dreams. The one that got away. The—”
“Shut up, will you? I know who he is. And he didn’t get away, for f**k’s sake. He never even knew I existed except in my dreams while I jerked off.”
“TMI.” She wrinkled her nose. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Do about it? What am I supposed to do?” Brandon shook his head. “He won’t know who I am. I could walk up to him and say my name and he still wouldn’t know. Probably wouldn’t know me if I looked exactly like I did ten years ago.”
“But you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.” Brandon had spent all of high school crushing on Tim Olfander. Followed him around even. At a safe distance. Tim had been totally out of his league. Once he’d even overheard Tim laughing at the notion of taking him to the prom when one of his friends had made a big joke out of suggesting it. Still, he’d secretly written “Brandon + Tim” in a dozen notebooks. Watched enviously as Tim and his cohorts formed their club. A gay club. For a brief time—five minutes or so—Brandon had thought about joining the school’s Gay-Straight Alliance. But he’d decided against it, unwilling to come out and make himself a target. More of a target.
Brandon hadn’t been out then. How could he? The school tormentors had enough reason to pick on him without adding that to it. But Tim seemed to have it made. No one picked on him. He was gorgeous and popular, and Brandon had been in love.
“Maybe I can call in sick for that weekend,” he said with a heavy sigh.
- Writer
