Young Writers Society

That entire day felt kind of like a blur. Leanne showed up with Koby at four o'clock sharp. My older brother, Taylor, had never given us an answer to whether or not he planned on joining us, but he never came, so I suppose not. Nicky's parents were there ten minutes later- a Jake and Maria Lawson. I knew plenty about her dad; his mom was from a pretty damn wealthy Indian-Canadian family who owned a chain of four-star hotels, and his dad was from an equally wealthy white family who had something to do with a fishery on the East Coast. Her mom was Filipino, and all that I knew about her was that when I saw her, I was a little taken back because it was like staring right at an older, more happy-go-lucky Nicky.

Everyone ate supper in the living room, because the dining room table was too small, and Braz recounted his stay at the hospital for Nicky's parents. They hadn't been able to visit that often. Nicky and I kept glancing at each other, and her forehead was just wrought with these little, concerned lines. I couldn't say that mine was faring any better. Both of us noticed how much Braz's voice was shaking, and the fact that he kept talking about it like it had been an occurrence that was totally independent of him being jumped by gangsters.

I may or may not have held his hand under the blanket we'd draped over the three of us on the couch, and I may or may not have slowly grown more and more aware of how badly said hand was shaking.

Nicky sprang up finally and started taking dishes. I offered to do them, but Leanne and Jake both told me no, they would take care of them this time. Francis slunk off to her room with their cat at some point after quietly excusing herself. The girl was made up of a contradicting mixture of shyness and enough fire to rival Nicky.

We left with Koby when Mai and Maria started talking about mom things, dubbing it a perfect night to grab drive-thru ice cream and cruise. We took Leanne's car, because that's where Koby's booster seat was, and I held the door open for Braz before piling into the driver's seat. It felt like the decent thing to do.

"Man, I hate backseating," Nicky muttered. She slid into the middle and gave Koby's knee a light pinch. He pinched hers back and started giggling.

"Yeah, well. Braz needs the leg-room, and you're used to driving trucks." I pulled out of the drive, trying to remember how to get to the nearest McDonald's. I didn't even know if I'd get anything yet, but I was hungry, and it was on my bucket-list to be able to down soft ice cream before the end of the summer. It'd been a while since I'd been able to enjoy it.

"Parker," Braz said, "I'm five foot eight."

I wrinkled my nose. "Yeah, and you're supposed to keep your leg stretched out, still."

He rolled his eyes, smirk repressed but very obviously there. Nicky just sighed and muttered, "If it's for him."

We got to McDonald's eventually (I'll admit, after a couple of wrong turns), and it wasn't until Nicky, Braz and Koby were all holding hot fudge sundaes and I was picking at a strawberry one that the conversation actually started. Filtered, of course, because there was a four year old in the back seat, but easy enough. I brought up my new job aspirations, and both of them applauded me while Koby squawked something about hating hair cuts, and then blabbered something about his ice cream being a mountain where bumblebees lived. I stole a glance at Braz, and he grinned the single most affirming grin I'd ever seen.

"You remember that sparkly, pink fedora you got me for my seventeenth birthday?" I asked him. I don't know why, but I'd remembered it, all of a sudden. He'd given it to me at my mom's place that year, right at the end of the party, and told me that it could be my pocket of flamboyancy until I was ready to let it fly unabashed.

I fucking loved that hat.

He looked at me, eyebrows pinched, lips cinched up in a little half-smile. "Yeah, why? Do you still have it?"

I nodded. "Yup. I was thinking of wearing it to the interview, if I can convince Koby that it's not actually his."

"It is mine!" Koby kicked the back of my seat. "It's Oscar's house!" Oscar was a stuffed duck mom'd bought him when he was a baby, and the thing wasn't even small enough to fit under a stupid fedora.

I reached back and patted his leg. "Well, I'm going to need to borrow it one day. Is Oscar cool with that?"

He paused, but sighed and nodded anyway.

"Thanks, kiddo."

"You're welcome, daddy."

I think I kind of froze, there. Nicky was frowning at him a little- not enough that he'd notice, but enough that I noticed- and Braz looked... I couldn't really read it, but he looked something. And I mean, it wasn't like Koby never called me dad- I was more father figure than brother figure, I guess- but he only ever did it at home. And even then, it only slipped out every once and a while. Leanne had heard him say it once, and that's what had prompted her to decide that I should have custody of him. She was never 'mom.' Only 'aunty.'

Nicky cleared her throat, switching gears to music.

It was nine when I declared that we needed to head to my place and put Koby to bed, and Nicky said that we could drop her off at her place if it was on the way. It was, so we did, and I texted Leanne in the Lawson's driveway to let her know we were going to head back home.

My hand drifted to Braz's for the drive back, and I kept double-checking in the mirror to make sure Koby was asleep. Which had nothing to do with the hand-holding, but he'd drifted off right before we brought Nicky home, and I didn't want him to be fussy going to bed.

"Does he call you dad a lot?" Braz asked after a few minutes, tone barely a murmur.

I glanced at him, and then back at the road, giving a single, deep nod. "Well, not a lot, but often enough. Did I ever tell you that I'm like, two signed papers away from being his legal guardian?"

Braz blinked, face lighting like I'd just told him they'd resurrected C.S. Lewis (he loved C.S. Lewis). "Failed to mention it. Do you know when it'll be done?"

I shrugged a shoulder, turning onto my street. "I decided that I need to start working full time again before I push, but I'm hoping that it'll be official before the end of summer."

"Parker, that's awesome." He squeezed my hand, and something about it made me smile, myself. "We need to throw a party or something once it's all said and done."

"Yeah." I chuckled. "We've talked to him about it a lot, already. He's fine with moving in with me when I get my own place, as long as he gets to see Leanne a lot. We're finally registering him for kindergarten this fall, too." We'd decided to hold back a year, because the last one had been messy and full of mom-drama. He just didn't need the extra stress.

"I'd kind of like to homeschool him, actually." I barely whispered that part. "I mean, if there's anything I take Nicky's word for, it's that homeschooling's an awesome system. And I think I'd be pretty good at it, but..." I sighed. "Work and stuff. I'd need a house-husband or something to pull it off."

It took me a full five seconds to realize what had just came out of my mouth, and why Braz's eyebrow was raised quite as high as it was, and then I was blushing. Intensely.

"I mean-" I pulled into my parking lot and rubbed my face with my hands, laughing into them. "That wasn't me proposing, by the way."

Braz chuckled and rubbed at my shoulder before going for his seat belt. "Good. I think that I'd prefer to officially be together with my betrothed for a couple years before they, you know, became my betrothed."

I felt kind of like he'd pushed me over by accident, there. Gave me a hinting nudge that I hadn't been expecting, so I toppled. I felt my lungs squish up together, and my pulse spike, and all I could do was fumble with my seat belt and fall out the door to try and get Koby out without waking him up.

I didn't say anything, just hushed my brother when he started stirring and walked, as lightly as possible, to the door, snatching my keys out of my pocket with my free hand as I trotted up the steps. Koby stirred again when I pushed my way end, squeal-mumbling something that I couldn't make out, and I shuffled aside to let Braz in.

"I'm just going to put him to bed," I whispered. "You can come if you want. Can't really drop you off until my aunty gets home, but do you-" I faltered. "I dunno, we can put on a movie or something."

He nodded, and I smiled and turned for the living room, working my way across it to get to the hallway. I nodded at Koby's door, and Braz opened it for us because Koby had sort of slipped himself into a position that required both arms unless I wanted him to end up upside-down. We slipped in, and I made sure that Koby was tucked in exactly the way he liked and kissed his forehead before I stood up.

I turned, slipping my hand into Braz's as I walked by, and left the door to Koby's room open a crack. My heart was wrapped around my oesophagus the entire trek back to the living room.

We settled onto my chair, but a movie never happened. I just kind of flopped down and gave Braz's arm a nervous, inviting pull, and he fell onto my lap with absolutely no hesitance. I grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch, because it was close enough to reach and I remembered how easily he got cold, and wrapped it around us.

Neither of us pushed for conversation, and I was busy wondering where the line between 'not official' and 'official' was. Because my heart was going absolutely nuts, and I knew that he could probably at least feel it slamming against my ribcage, and it felt pretty damn official. But there were still the words. I hadn't asked the question, and I doubted that he planned on instigating it. He'd always preferred that others go at their own pace, because he adapted to people so well, and we all knew that he did.

So I pulled the lever that made the recliner recline and propped our feet up on it, reattached my arm to his torso, and let him tuck his head under my cheek while I mentally flipped through all of the possible ways to phrase the question. Which was difficult. Being this close to him made it easier to smell him, and I suddenly remembered why I'd always found that so intoxicating. Honestly, it wasn't every day you met a boy that smelled like a combination of chamomile tea, vanilla and mint leaves.

After what had to have been ten minutes, I swallowed and whispered, "Braz?"

"Yeah?" he was whispering back, but I was glad that his voice was free of sleepiness. I really didn't want his certainty to be clouded because he was already half-asleep by the time I'd gathered the guts to ask the question.

I licked my lips, forced myself to take a deep breath, and stared intently at the ceiling. "Do you... I mean, I wouldn't ask this so soon if I didn't think we were- I don't know, chugging along too fast, but I don't... I don't think we are, are we?"

There was a pause- not a hesitant one, just a mildly confused one, and then a, "No, we're not," that sounded comfortingly sure of itself.

"Okay." Another pause, which was my doing, this time. "Then... is it a good time to ask if I can take you out on a date? Like, a real one. An actual, official date." The words were out before I could actually believe that I'd even asked the question.

Braz pulled back a little, and my heart stopped ripping around my chest and froze entirely. I hated it when I couldn't read what he was thinking by the look on his face, and I definitely, definitely could not read that look.