Match Your Weakness With A Name

Eighteen Is Incomprehensible.

The first firework goes off.

It's a burst of golden flames, spanning the sky above us like a spiderweb. Awsten's eyes widen, the irises reflecting the little dots of light. It's a sight worth a thousand dates.

The next fireworks follow in quick succession, one after another, trailing past the Houston summer stars, leaving rainbows of ash in their wake. The field is alight with the glow of explosions and sparks. Beautiful.

Awsten presses up to me, and I don't flinch. I let him lean on my shoulder and wrap my arm around his shoulders. His breathing is steady, reassuring, non-threatening. I can almost feel his heartbeat.

Two fireworks erupt next to each other, one blue, one green, and I can't help but to think of his eyes.

I lean in and place a small kiss on his cheek.

He gasps, and I immediately fear the worst.

"Sorry!" I whisper, my breath catching in my throat.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he says. "I just...didn't expect it."

"I really am...sorry," I say.

"No, really," he says, "that was great. Thanks."

"Anytime?" I say.

He giggles. "Come on, the fireworks are still going off."

"Can't miss those."

*****

A stream of red rockets trace patterns into the smoke-blanketed sky, closing the fireworks show. My ears are ringing, my arm's numb from holding Awsten,  and I'm half-blind from the flashing, but I'm on top of the fucking world. I feel so liberated. I mean, it is Independence Day.

"Aws?" I nudge him.

"M' awake," he mumbles, slowly unfolding his spindly legs and standing up. I get to my feet too and take his hand.

"What'd you think?" I ask.

"Amazing," he says, "fucking amazing."

"I'm fond of it myself," I say, smiling. "Uh, let's get back to the car, shall we?"

"Let's," he says.

We make our way to the car without any more words.

I'm about halfway to his house when he says, "I just remembered. My parents are gonna be out all night."

"You dumbass!" I say. "How'd you forget that?"

"Well, you're here..." he trails off.

"Okay, fine," I say, smirking. "I suppose I should invite you to spend the night at my place."

"I suppose I should accept that invitation," he says.

"Uh, then I've got to turn this fucking car around," I say.

After multiple attempts, I get back to my aunt and uncle's house in one piece, more or less, and park in their driveway.

I help Aws out of the car and lead him into my living room.

"So this is where you live," he muses.

"You've been here before," I remind him.

"Oh. Right," he says. "Where's your bedroom?"

"Uh, it's upstairs," I say. "Just follow me."

I take him to my trashy pop-punk boy bedroom and sit down on the edge of my basic-ass bed. "Wow," he says, "your room's exactly like I imagined it to be."