Baby Fat

two

With Bradley, he didn't need explanations from Corrie. Bradley understands that Corrie puts sex first, that's just who he is, so Bradley didn't want an elucidation about what happened two days ago with Whitney.

"We're not dating," Corrie tries to convince Bradley. Bradley isn't sure who Corrie's trying to convince more: Bradley or himself. "It's a mutual pleasure thing. No strings attached."

Bradley hums in acknowledgement. He eats his fries—large of course, not saying a word about it. He had some things he could say, but he just keeps his mouth shut.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Corrie's voice laces with panic. "You always have something to say."

Bradley rolls his eyes, takes a drink of his Diet Coke, swallows, and then intertwines his fingers together. He places his forearms on the table.

"Why are you so concerned about what I think?" Bradley is genuinely curious. "You never care. Whenever I voice my opinion, you decide to ignore it."

Bradley piles all of his and Corrie's trash on the tray to throw away. He looks at Bradley, waiting for Corrie's approval to throw his leftover McDonald's away. Corrie nods his head in conformation, and then looks at his iPhone. Bradley stands up from the booth he was sitting in, dumps his trash in the trash can, and then walks back over to Corrie.

Corrie looks up at Bradley, "You know, I do listen to you. I just don't take your advice."

Bradley rolls his eyes, and bites his straw. "You don't take my advice, and then you always find yourself wondering how you end up in the situations where girls want more than a relationship."

"Oh shut up."

Bradley gives Corrie his I Told You So face, and Corrie huffs. Corrie runs his hand over his head. They sit in a comfortable silence, Corrie texting whoever on his phone and Bradley just watching him. Bradley gazes over Corrie; Corrie's tan brown skin and soft brown eyes. Bradley definitely sees what other people see, Corrie's gorgeous looks and undeniable charm, but they never wanted anything deeper with him.

"So?" Corrie asks. Bradley physically jumps, not aware that Corrie was talking to him.

"Wait, what?"

Corrie huffs in annoyance. "And you say I never listen," he mumbles. Corrie proceeds to explain something about paintball on Saturday with the guys. It's an invitation Bradley declines, knowing that he isn't wanted there by anyone but Corrie. Bradley doesn't fit in with Corrie's guys. Corrie has played almost every sport know to man with his guys, and Bradley hates sports.

Corrie continues to drag on the conversation, "Do you have any other friends?"

"No," Bradley says shortly. He doesn't feel like talking about his lack of friends. His lack of friends because he's fat and people are superficial.

Corrie's not paying any attention to Bradley. His eyes are focused on his cellphone screen. His bottom lip is pulled between his top teeth. He's biting it, the sexual frustration bite that Bradley has seen an abundance of times.

"Join drama club," Corrie proposes, still not looking up from his phone. "You like playing pretend."

Bradley sighs heavily. Bradley knows everything about Corrie, down to his least favorite mole; but Corrie may never really get Bradley.

"Stop being such a bad friend," Bradley suggests instead. Corrie doesn't say anything, doesn't even look up from his phone. Bradley does think about joining drama club for a moment; about how nice it would be to be someone else for a few hours, escaping his problems.

There's another silence, Corrie too invested in whoever he's sexting.

"Who're you texting?" Bradley asks curiously. Corrie again, doesn't look up.

"Do you really want to know?" Corrie's eyes look up at Bradley before he quirks his mouth to the side, a dimple appearing on his left side. Corrie's signature smirk.

"Yes, I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know," Bradley snaps impatiently. Corrie rolls his eyes dramatically, like it was an intolerable hardship.

"It's a guy." Corrie sounds so smug about it. He looks up at Bradley, waiting for a reaction. Bradley is caught off guard, even though he knows Corrie is bisexual. The whole high school knows, actually. After some rumors of Corrie sleeping with a nobody, a guy nobody, Corrie confirmed the rumors. He then became the guy everybody wanted to be with—boy or girl.

Bradley's not sure if he's envious of that or not. Bradley has never been a social butterfly, like Corrie, he's a caterpillar stuck in its cocoon.

"Is it someone I know?" Bradley asks, attempting to sound nonchalant. He's biting on his straw, on the edge of his seat.

"It's someone everybody knows." Corrie smirks, again. Bradley wishes he had half as much self-confidence as Corrie. His best friend could walk onto a stage of a Madonna concert and steal the show with one look. He could have everyone's heart in half a second.

"A jock?"

Corrie nods his head, "Yep," he pops the 'p' at the end, causing Bradley to want to strangle him.

Bradley is surprised. He didn't expect that. It's because of the stereotype that jocks are macho, and are straight heartbreakers of  high school. The concept that jocks can't be homosexual because they have to be straight to be strong, always lingers nearby when he thinks about who at school could be gay.

Bradley's not sure what to say next so he just says, "Cool."

"He plays baseball with me," Corrie informs Bradley, even thought Bradley didn't ask. Bradley suspects Corrie's tired of keeping whatever him and his jock have together a secret.

"So it's more than just a game?" Bradley winks. Corrie doesn't do anything to make Bradley think his assumption was true, until Corrie blushes. Bradley is amazed to see Corrie react in a way other than smirking, because Corrie doesn't blush unless it means something to him. The case where sex is more than just sex to him. Cases that are too rare, an anomaly.

"Eh," Corrie quickly dismisses any of Bradley's ideas about Corrie being in a couple with the jock. "It would never work." Corrie sits his phone down on the table so that the shiny Apple symbol is facing up. He's keeping from scaring Bradley too deeply.

"And why is that?" Bradley sips the remaining drink from his cup and exhales noisily in disappointment. He is too lazy to get more.

"The team would never accept it." Corrie rests his chin on the palm of his hand.

"Why does it matter to them?" Bradley doesn't understand what the big deal is.

"Baseball comes first, the team comes first. It'd be breaking bro-code rules for us to become more."

"What's 'more' exactly?" Bradley regrets asking after saying it, he always pushes too far.

Bradley hadn't pushed too far with Corrie because Corrie admits hesitantly, "A relationship. You know, dates and shit."

Bradley didn't know really, just knew about the stuff from the movies but he nods anyways. "So do you want more?"

"God, Bradley?" Corrie's voice is exasperated, "why do you think I'm telling you this? Of fucking course I want more! I want to be the one who carries his stuff in the hallway and the one he goes to school dances with. I want to meet his goddamn parents and I want to hold him as he falls asleep!"

Bradley is speechless, Corrie knocked all of the air of out Bradley. He's never heard Corrie talk so passionately about anyone, not even Mary K—who he claimed to be the love of his life. Bradley had forgotten what emotional Corrie was; he had forgotten who Corrie was besides the drinking and the sex.

"Would you lose everything for him?" Bradley questions, ready to hear Corrie yell at him again. But Corrie doesn't yell.

In a low whisper, Corrie says, "Yes."

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☒ - unedited