We Go Down (Bremmy 2)

Chapterish 34

[Quote Aesthetic of the Chapterish]

STARS DON'T SLEEP

Brooks and I are the last two to leave Back Bay.

The rest trickled out over the last hour. Of course, we carefully planned our clandestine rendezvous apart from the rest of the group before they left. What Trix and Travis don't know... Won't spoil their bachelor (& ette) party.

Meg climbs into Nate's truck, its engine whining in the night. Trix kisses my cheek and promises to text me bright and early the next morning.

"Yes. Yes, bae." I nod. "Night Trav."

Travis nods, cigarette hanging casually between his lips.

"See ya guys," Brooks says next to me.

I leap from the front steps –invincible in my sobriety. I can never jump these steps drunk.

Brooks turns right, spinning to walk backwards so he can still look at me.

"This is not the way home." I smirk at Brooks.

"Did I say I was taking you home?" Brooks laughs. "I meant I was taking you on an hour-long detour."

"An hour?" I repeat, laughing.

"That's all I need." Brooks's eyes flood with mischief.

He leads me by hand across the empty street and into the yard beside the high school. There's something about being back on this property –with him. I can't not see him as 18, in his glory days, in his Letter Jacket and all too eager to pull me beneath the bleachers.

Ah fuck, the bleachers. What a marvelous little world under there.

"I haven't been here in years," I admit, almost sad. 

"I was counting on it."

We cross the empty football field, bright and white under the stadium lights. The bleachers are innocent right where we left them, but I wonder how many other high school sweetheart trysts found a home beneath them. 

"Nothing like a trip down memory lane," Brooks says, swinging me in for a kiss.

I let his lips melt into mine, the warmth of his breath sending electricity down my spine. It wakes my core. I press my front into his, ruing my thick sweatshirt. Ruing all clothes TBH.

"Nothing like that," I grin, biting my lip and his.

We're alone at last.

No Fitting. No wedding party. The excitement is simmering now and the fresh air in our lungs also clears our minds.

Brooks looks at me, his eyes alive.

"You're so different now," I catch myself saying.

"Do I look more like a fiancé?" Brooks grins.

"HA, maybe that's it!" I laugh at him. I can feel the smile on my face growing with a life of its own. "Or maybe just now now."

"Now now? Like today?" Brooks laughs.

"Now like as an adult," I disagree.

"What a word," Brooks mumbles into my hair. "Tastes funny in my mouth."

Indeed.

"How am I different?" He asks, the skin between his brows forming a small V.

How is he not?

"You used to have everything mapped out," I remind him. "I mean everything. Graduation. College. Post-grad plans. Just life."

I sigh into him.

I used to be part of those plans and after a 10 year gap, I now am again.

"I was always worried about the future before. Didn't want to be nothing. Didn't want to end up like my dad. Didn't know what I wanted at all. And now," Brooks pauses, calmly looking at me.

"Yes? Go on." I urge him, lifting an eyebrow. Say it. Say it.

"You'll laugh. Or worse–" Brooks looks away, sighing.

"Will not."

Brooks rolls his eyes, gives my arm a little squeeze, and exhales. "Now I know what I want. I want you. And nothing else matters."

Knees. Weak. WEAK.

"Brooks," I begin.

I hope other stuff matters.

"I know you want answers. Plans. Hard plans for the future –for our future." Brooks mumbles. He shakes his head, leaving zero room for my interjection.

"I do." No skating around it.

"I don't have them now. When I think about my future I don't see a place or a house or anything concrete. I just see you, Ems."

"That's a relief," I joke.

"Well, I don't just see you," Brooks teases. "There's me too. With you. Naked a lot of the times. We always fall asleep together, wake up together. Years ahead of us now."

"Old and gray?" I laugh.

"I know that's not enough," Brooks blurts out, serious again. "I know it's just talk, but right now it's the talk that I live for."

OMG how am I still standing upright?

"It is enough." I squeeze his hand. "For now, it is enough."

Maybe there really is some magic to this whole living-in-the-moment thing.

I remember what Brooks once said, what he told me about spontaneity. Embracing the unknown and feeling it in your bones –it's like coming home.

He is my home.

Maybe he's talked me into scrapping future plans.

Maybe he's talked me into living for cheap talk.

Brooks could talk me into anything.

We walk the old path behind the high school, hidden from view of the road and prying eyes of people who care too much or care too little.

It's dark now; the stadium lights flooding the high school grounds are behind us. The moon and stars guide us now and there's a tranquil calm about the night. At least the stars don't sleep.

Hand in hand we walk the lonely path, one we walked many times before. My mind goes back to the train tracks, to the smell of the fall and risking it all. To the invincible feeling of knowing it's the real thing.

My 15 year-old self knew the real thing. Damn people don't give kids enough credit.

It's insane how far we've come –how apart we've grown –only to find our way back to each other.

Sometimes I still don't believe it. I don't buy it.

Seems too fairytale.

But what's wrong with a little magic?