After about a year and a half of being inactive, I finally got the inspiration to come back!
Enjoy, and please review :)
Brandon's lack of motivation was concerning.
It was the night before his big piano evaluation, and the entire family had come to visit him at Idyllwild. Brandon, however, seemed to have no interest in the whole ordeal. Rather than practicing, he sat, slumped down on the couch, seemingly deep in thought.
"B?" Callie inquired, sitting down to join him. "Earth to Brandon? Are you alright?"
He looked up at her, only about halfway interested in the conversation, before mumbling something along the lines of "I'm fine." He started to get up to leave, when Callie tugged on his arm lightly, signaling him to sit back down. He begrudgingly obliged, but refused to make eye contact.
"Did I do something?" Callie tentatively questioned, not wanting to make matters worse if she was right. "No. No no no," Brandon responded, wanting to assure her that his newfound troubles were not her fault. Well, not entirely, anyway. "Yes? No. Kind of?" "Brandon, what the hell are you talking about? What's going on?"
"I screwed up the interview," he sputtered out quickly, almost as if he didn't want her to hear what he said. "What do you mean you screwed up the interview?" "I lied. I told the social worker that I initiated everything, and that I never violated the restraining order, and now I feel so guilty. Our answers were inconsistent, and now I screwed everything up, ok!"
Callie pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "God damnit." Brandon looked up at her. "Now the judge will never let Stef and Lena adopt me. Why the hell would you do that?"
"I was just trying to protect you!"
"Brandon, I DON'T NEED YOUR PROTECTION!"
The room grew eerily quiet as Callie looked down sheepishly, ashamed that she had just yelled at him like that. His eyes were glossy with tears that hadn't quite yet fallen, and Callie instantly regretted what she had done. "Brandon, I—" "No, Callie. You're right. You don't need my protection. You don't need me." Callie tried to deny it, but Brandon had already left, slamming his bedroom door shut and leaving Callie to sit alone.
"I do need you," she whispered, after he was already gone.
Later that night, Callie couldn't sleep. "You don't need me," kept playing over and over and over again in her head, and she needed to take everything back. Fights with Brandon were particularly horrible, because they happened so infrequently. When they did happen, they were a result of so much pent up anger and frustration that they tended to lash out at one another, far more intensely than necessary.
Callie got up from her bed and tiptoed to the room that Brandon was staying in for the night. "Brandon?" She knocked on the door softly, "B? Are you awake in there?" "Come in."
She found Brandon in quite a disheveled state. He hadn't changed out of the clothes he had worn that day, but his hair was messed up, and his eyes were rimmed in red, a sure sign that he had been crying. With a sympathetic smile, Callie joined him, sitting down on the rumpled sheets where he had probably been lying awake, moments before.
"I'm sorry," they said simultaneously, and had to laugh at their ability to be in sync even when mad at one another.
"I'm sorry I lashed out at you," Callie began. "And I'm sorry that I stormed away," Brandon let out a sad laugh, "and that I fucked everything up."
"You didn't fuck everything up, B" she stuck her tongue out at him, "to be fair, it was kind of a group effort." They both laughed, thankful for the comic relief amidst the sad and stressful environment.
Callie put her hand on Brandon's face, using her thumb to brush away a stray tear from the swollen area under his eye. "You've been crying," she said, matter-of-factly,"tell me why you've been crying. You don't have to keep it all in. Not with me, anyway."
Brandon took a deep, shaky breath, and began. "This might sound stupid," he paused, looking away. "But I feel like everything is just slipping away from me all of a sudden. Everything I love is being taken away."
Callie cocked an eyebrow, signaling that further explanation was necessary.
"Well, to start off, I had this piece that I wrote. The one that I told you about, when you told me you didn't know the black keys from the white ones. I hate to be cocky, but it was brilliant. I spent hours and hours on it, trying to be imaginative, and I'm pretty damn sure that it would've gotten me all the way to Disney Hall."
"I'm sure it was fantastic, Brandon. What happened?"
"This friend of mine, Tony, well, I thought he was a friend of mine, he told me exactly what I was afraid of. He told me that it was too risky for a classical competition, and that I should scrap it. And so, I did. I resorted back to classical composition, and then the teacher told me I didn't take enough risks."
"That sucks. That really sucks. I'm sorry."
"To top it all off, guess what? Tony stole my piece. My Disney Hall level effort washed down the drain so that some other kid could steal it. That's what really sucks. And you know what else really sucks?" Brandon got the ball rolling with his first complaint, and there was no stopping the ball of frustrations from being released now, so he passionately continued, "I snapped at my mom the other day. Stef. I yelled at her, and now I feel horrible about that, too."
"Why'd you snap at Stef?"
"Because she has been defending AJ, who is her and my dad's Brandon 2.0, clearly the son they've always wanted."
"Brandon, that's so not true,"
"Really?" he scoffed, "My dad loves him. They bond over sports and stuff, and he's talked to AJ more in the last month more than he's talked to me in the last year. And now Moms are still letting him stay in the house when you two are obviously hooking up or whatever you're doing when I had a damn restraining order taken out against me when we kissed. That's why I'm mad, Callie. I'm being replaced, and good old Brandon is supposed to just sit there and take it. And you know what? I'm done sucking it up and taking it with a smile. I know I'm just some stupid privileged white boy with a stable home and parents who love me and amazing siblings but sometimes, fucking sometimes, that's not enough."
"AJ can never replace you, B," she smiled at him. "I mean, he's cool and all, but you're amazing. Ever since I came into your family, you've been nothing but sweet, and kind, and welcoming, and I can never thank you enough for that. You deserve more, and I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
"Bullshit, Brandon. I'm sorry for all the times that I've hurt you. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know, and I shattered that big heart into a million pieces and I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry that all of this has happened, and I'm sorry that it's my fault. If I had known how strongly you felt, I would never have brought AJ home, and I definitely wouldn't have kissed him. Being with him is nowhere worth hurting you."
"I came to Girls United the other day." Brandon confessed.
"I know. I saw you outside, and I was going to come talk to you, but you drove away. Why did you drive away?" "Because if I had stayed, I would have screwed things up even further. I heard about you and AJ and I felt like I needed to talk to you, but I drove away so I wouldn't screw things up, ok?"
"Why would you have—"
"Because I LOVE YOU! I FUCKING LOVE YOU, CALLIE JACOB! If I stayed I would have told you that and I couldn't have denied you anything."
"So don't."
"Don't what?"
"Deny me anything."
Brandon gently grabbed her hand. "Callie…"
"No. I don't want to hear any more bullshit excuses about how we can't do this again. I'm not getting adopted, it just wasn't meant to be. You love me. And I…I love you, Brandon, I've never stopped. I want you more than anything, and I hope you want me too. So don't. Don't deny me anything."
He looked into her eyes with the love and passion they hadn't been able to act upon in so long. "So what do you want?"
"I want you to shut up and kiss me."
Without a second thought, Brandon leaned forward and closed the gap between the two of them, pressing a firm kiss to Callie's lips. After a second it softened, becoming slow and gentle, allowing the two of them to revel in the magical feeling they got from being together. Callie moved her hands until they were at the hem of Brandon's shirt, pulling it over his head.
Brandon pulled away, grabbing Callie's hands. "Cal, look at me." She looked up at the boy in front of her, so kind and gentle and caring, asking for her permission.
"Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want to do this if you're not ready." She nodded, leaning in to kiss him again, but stopping to whisper against his lips, "You said you wouldn't deny me anything. I want you to be my real first time."
He kissed her fiercely, and trailed his hands down her waist, grabbing the material of her shirt and pulling it off her body. They fell back onto his bed, and from there, there was no turning back.
The End.