Consequences

⟡ten⟡

 "Alright, I know you love ice cream..." Holden held his hands over Brinley's closed eyes.

"I never said I liked ice cream." Brinley interrupted, trying to look at Holden, but he held her in front of his body, not letting her turn in the slightest.

"If you don't like ice cream this thing isn't going to work out. I don't date psychopaths." Holden dipped his head lower so that he was speaking directly into Brinley's right ear.

Brinley quickly turned around, breaking free of Holden's grasp. "Who said we were dating?"

Holden was at a loss for words. If he didn't ask her out soon, she'd find out that he had already told all of his friends that they were dating. If she didn't feel the same way about him, he was in for a big blow to his reputation. "Do you, um, want...to date?"

"We'll see after this date." Brinley turned back around, smiling to herself. "And I knew where we were ever since we got out of your car. I went here all the time when I was little."

"I know." Whispered Holden as she walked inside the door.

When Brinley walked through the door into her favorite ice cream parlor, a small bell rung, triggered by the open door. A short, gray haired woman came out from the back room and smiled. "Holden! I see you've found someone new to bring in here."

"She's not new Cheryl. This is Brinley Jacobs." Holden beamed, as if he was showing off someone special to him, which he was. Brinley observed this behavior of his and made a mental note.

"Oh my God! You're so grown up! I didn't even recognize you!" The woman continued asking questions such as, "How is your mom?" and "When did you get back?"

"I moved back here a little over a month ago. Haven't had the chance to stop in." Brinley smiled and looked down at her hands. Holden noticed and slowly grabbed her thin hand.

"What will it be then?" The woman gestured at the chalkboard behind her with all of the flavors, noticing the subtle hand holding.

"Order for me, I'll go get us a table." Brinley whispered to Holden and walked away.

When Holden found her a few minutes later, he held two waffle cones full of cookie dough ice cream.

"How did you know?" Brinley took the cone. "Cookie dough is my favorite!"

"Lucky guess." Holden responded, remembering how they would come in to this parlor and sit in this exact same seat every Friday evening. Brinley always picked the table because it had the best view of the sunset, and she had more of an artistic view on life, whereas Holden would have been happier to sit in a different seat. Maybe even the seat at the other end of the parlor right next to the outdated jukebox, but he always let Brinley pick. His dad taught him that is was gentlemen do.

Holden wondered how Brinley couldn't remember the two years when they were the best of friends. Did she make a conscious effort to forget him? Did she want to start a new life without him? Did she really not remember him or was she just playing dumb? He thought that she might have childhood amnesia, which he learned about in his Psychology class the previous school year, but then he remembered that sort of thing only happens in early childhood, not when you are nine years old.

Brinley knew why she couldn't remember. Or rather, her mother knew.

Right after moving to Pennsylvania, before Brinley entered the fifth grade, Connie and Brinley were in a car accident. Brinley's seatbelt was not fastened securely, and Connie immediately thought her daughter had died, when in reality, it was only a coma.

Connie still blamed herself for her daughter's traumatic amnesia, but this felt like a blessing in disguise to her. As Brinley began to regain her memory, Connie, and everyone else close to Brinley conditioned her to completely forget the past two years, and finally ridding themselves of any memories of the Bell family.

But now Brinley was home, and this time she couldn't forget the Bells, and Holden made sure of that.

-

Their next activity was a complete surprise to Brinley, unlike the ice cream date.

"I told you how I work at this arcade right?" Holden asked Brinley, who responded with a nod. "Well I got us in. After hours. Everything is on the house."

"How are you not getting fired for this?" Brinley smiled at Holden.

"All the money we spend is taken off of my paycheck."

"Well now I don't want to spend your money."

"Brinley I swear to God, no, I swear to any and every god there ever was and ever will be, if you don't spend my money right now, I will never speak to you again."

"You threaten me like that's a bad thing." Brinley smirked.

"That's it." Holden swiftly picked up his third grade crush and held her so that she hung over his back, both of them laughing.

He swung her around and ran up and down the isles of games, all with her over his shoulder. She pounded her fists against his back lightly, screaming that she wanted to be let go, but she craved his touch much more than she anticipated.

Within seconds Brinley had stopped yelling, and Holden had let her down, softly putting her feet back on the blue carpeted ground. Holden looked at Brinley like she was the only person in the world, but Brinley looked around at the glowing lights of each game, fascinated with the ambiance, delighted with the neon glow.

"Brinley?" Holden longed for her to look at him the same way that he looked at her.

"Hmm?" Brinley slowed looked back at the nervous boy.

"I don't care if you don't want to be with me now. I want to be with you and, well, if I have to wait for you, then I'll do it. I did it once, I'll do it again. I'd wait months, years, God, even ten years for you. I'll wait through other boyfriends, as much as I would hate to see it. I'll support you in whatever. Just please consider me? That's all I ask right now." Holden pleaded. His eyes were glossy, his lip quivering, seeming to be nervous in itself, embarrassed by all of the information he had spilled.

"Holden, I've known you for a month. You waited a month for me. I just don't know if I'm ready to rush into anything." Brinley's heart was pounded hard in her chest, fighting her words.

"Brin, I know you don't remember me, but, dammit I promised I wouldn't tell you this, but we knew each other when we were kids, we were best friends before you moved to Pennsylvania."

"No." Brinley stepped away from Holden. "There's no way. My mom would have told me. She told me about Lia, and Gina, and Matt, and for god sakes even fucking Justin Brown. Why would she leave out my best friend?"

"She didn't think I was good for you, that my family was good for you." Holden kept as much information as he could away from Brinley, especially all information regarding his brother. "I guess she didn't like me."

"You're lying."

"B..."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Holden."

"I'm not lying, Brinley. Please baby, listen to me." Holden stepped closer to Brinley, trying to pull her in for a hug, but she quickly moved away from him, pushing him in the process, and exiting the arcade.

Brinley stood outside of the brightly lit building. She knew he wasn't lying. Little images of what he must have looked like when he was young flooded her mind. A whirlwind of guilt filled her, but she couldn't stop herself now.

"B!" Holden ran out of the glass doors, catching his breath. "Let me at least take you home. It's late."

Brinley agreed, feeling defeated, but spending the silent ride by planning how she would approach her mother with all of this. Brinley was done with living through years of lies.