Brett was sound asleep in the recliner next to the couch, snoring louder than he could howl. It was a little past midnight, and you were bored out of your mind, watching cartoons.
"Brett," you finally poked him. He stirred, but didn't get up. "Brett!"
"What?" He asked, annoyed.
"I'm leaving."
"Okay."
He didn't offer to walk you to your car, or even to the door. He didn't get off the couch.
You walked to the door, put your hand on the knob, and stopped.
"Brett," you said again.
"What?" He almost yelled.
"I came here to break up with you."
He sat up.
"What do you mean break up?"
"Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be."
"No," he stood up. "This should be difficult. We were great. I thought we were great. You told me that we were, so you don't get to just stroll in here and break up with me without any explanation."
"I never said I didn't have an explanation."
"Then let's hear it."
"You won't understand, Brett. I want to fall asleep in your arms, and trust that you'll be there when I wake up. I want to wear your sweatshirt to school. I want to put the arm rest up at the movie theatre, so I can put my head on your shoulder. I want to kiss you, and I want every kiss to feel just as amazing as the first one, because that's what love is. I want to be in love with you."
"You want me to be him."
You paused. "I'm sorry."
"No," he ran his hand through his hair. "It makes sense, actually."
"You're not mad?"
"Honestly, I think part of the reason we got together was because we both wanted to piss him off."
You looked down at the ground, willing yourself to speak, but unsure of what was left to say.
"You should go to him," Brett said with an awkward arm motion. "Tell him how you feel."
"Thanks, Brett," you opened the door, wishing you had more to say.
You walked through the door and out to your car, head spinning. There were so many opportunities. So many ways you could tell Liam that he was the one. There was so much time to think, but you couldn't wait. You drove straight to his house.
When you got there, you noticed that the light in his room was on. He was still awake.
"Liam," you said, hoping he could hear you. "Come outside."
You saw him peek out the window, and a minute later, he was sitting in the passenger's seat of your car.
"What are you doing here? It's one in the morning," he said.
"I broke up with Brett."
"You broke up with Bitchy Brett?" His mouth hung open.
"I told you not to call him that. It's sexist."
"He's a guy."
You tried to glare at him, but your mouth curved up into a regretful smile.
"So, why'd you break up?"
"I'm into someone else."
"Who?"
"You, Liam. I'm into you."
Liam's eyes widened a tiny bit, and he stared at you, silent. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. Slowly, he lifted his hand and touched your cheek. You turned bright red as his thumb stroked your face, and in this way, Liam told you exactly what he was thinking. He leaned forwards, his eyes unsure if you wanted to kiss him. You closed the space between you, and your lips connected. Chills went up your spine, and goosebumps appeared on your arm, though your face was burning hot.
Liam pulled back, and let his hand slide off your face. "I'm into you, too."
