J.B. strolls through the swinging main double doors of Playa Linda High with his usual swagger, the same groupies trailing behind him, the coveted varsity jacket on his arm. But it doesn't require a double take to notice the two details out of the ordinary-- the unsightly bruise on his cheek, and the empty space by his side.
Unbeknownst to Bradin, Lea had left for school thirty minutes earlier than usual this morning; her arrival was witnessed only by the marching band brigade who is obligated by 7 AM rehearsals.
Hence, Bradin waited for her by their lockers until the morning hall monitor chased him to first period with a detention slip so long it reached next Friday.
In first period, Lea had chosen a seat close to the door, surrounded by a field of friends. When he entered the room, Bradin hovered around the crowd, hoping to at least catch her eye, but was soon deterred by several dirty looks.
Forced to take a seat on the outskirts of the room by the window, Bradin sinks into the period, shooting frequent and ill-disguised glances in Lea's direction. Nevertheless, Lea does not so much breathe in Bradin's direction.
Beaten into a corner, Bradin resorts to a measure from Sixteen Candles. He quietly rips out a page from his binder, and scribbles his plead.
Can we talk please? I'm sorry.
The folded square travels six across and two up until it lands on Lea's desk.
Lea's particular eyes graze over the projectile momentarily. The rapidly moving gel-ink ball pen formerly flying across her spiral notebook stops abruptly on a comma.
Bradin observes Lea's reaction intently, mentally willing her to pick up the note.
Her head remains bent towards her notes, her eyes darting around furtively.
She hates this-- all of it, every single miniscule detail regarding the situation.
She hates not speaking to Bradin. She hates fighting with her brother. She hates being angry with two of the most important people in her life. She also hates waking up at the crack of dawn to get to school thirty minutes early.
But as much as she hates being angry, she still is.
For one second, she pauses on Bradin's watching stare. He raises his eyebrows anxiously. Lea narrows her eyes at him, and with a quick flick of the wrist, she propels the small square to the corner of her desk.
Bradin's eyes fall.
She groans quietly to herself, slightly rolling her eyes as she continues to injudiciously jot down messy notes. How dare he look so... so adorable while moping!
Lea spends the rest of her period with her left hand on her cheek and right hand continuously scribbling so she wouldn't have to look in Bradin's direction.
Thirty minutes later, a monotonous yet vociferous buzz signified the end of first period.
Lea hastily stuffs her notebook into her backpack, but when she stands up to leave the room, she finds herself blockaded by a blue-eyed blonde 5'8" barricade.
She attempts to side step around him, but the barricade is not only half a foot taller than her, it also has an automatic motion sensor.
"Lea--" The barricade speaks.
She keeps her eyes glued to the floor.
"Oh c'mon, don't give me the silent treatment. Yell! Scream! Punch me! Anything but this. You not talking to me is like sucking the oxygen out of my air."
Lea raises her head to meet Bradin's gaze, but only because if she keeps her head down any longer her neck might develop a permanent crick; not because she wants to see whether or not he looks good frowning.
"Lea. I'm sorry. Talk to me."
She blinks slowly and deliberately, resolute in her preference for silence.
"Fine, but I'm not letting you go until we talk."
Lea's eyes narrow crossly, "you've already insulted my character and injured my brother, do you really think it's wise to be the reason why I'm tardy for second period?"
Bradin doesn't know whether to be annoyed or to smile. He's desperate for her forgiveness and all she cares about is her attendance record? "Look, Lea. I'm sorry. To the millionth power."
"For making me late? Or for accusing me of liking Lucas? Or maybe for my brother's swollen jaw? So many choices, so little time, which one is it gonna be Bradin?"
"Uh, all of the above?" Bradin answers uncertainly. "Look, I just..., I wasn't thinking."
"Oh! You weren't thinking!" Lea exclaims sarcastically. "So hitting my brother and being a jealous boyfriend is some kind of involuntary reflexive instinct for you?"
"Yes! No! I mean..."
"Okay, you're going to have to pick one."
"J.B. just said some stuff that just..., really got to me."
"Like what?" Lea inquires, unable to keep the genuine curiosity out of her voice.
"Like...," Bradin begins to tell her that he got upset because J.B. said that Lea would never love him, but the words are strangely difficult to get out. "Stuff."
"Stuff? Oh, that makes the entire confrontation completely lucid, just crystal clear now! How could I not have seen it before?" Lea smacks her forehead in a mocking movement. "Remind me to take boy-speak for my elective next semester, because maybe then we can converse."
"No!" Bradin exclaims.
"No?" Lea frowns, he won't remind her?
"No!" Bradin repeats, wishing that he didn't sound so much like a parrot.
"No." Lea states, fine then, she'll just have to write herself a note.
"Yes." Bradin nods, he needs to make her understand.
"We just can't seem to make up our minds today, can we?" Lea throws her hands up in the air.
Bradin draws a deep breath. "Lea, look, I'm sorry I lost my temper and hit J.B. I'm sorry for saying those things to you- - it's just that, I wanted you to take my side, but I also know that it's not fair to make you pick a side. But I really wasn't trying to hurt you."
"And J.B.?"
"Well, I may have been trying to hurt him, just a little."
Lea's eyes widen disapprovingly.
"Momentary insanity?" Bradin defends quickly.
"Touché."
"I'm really, really sorry."
Lea inwardly groans. She wants to tell him off. She wants to tell him how much his accusations hurt her and how inappropriate the way he handled her brother was. But it's awfully tricky to stay angry at Bradin when his sparkling ocean blue eyes are peering up at her through long lashes.
"C'mon Lea, you can't stay mad forever." Bradin says in his best pitiful voice, making a move to take her hand.
Lea thinks about pulling her hand away, but Bradin's hands are so warm, and it is so cold today, under 70 degrees in fact, after all, it is December.
Bradin raises his head and gives her the tiniest smile.
Lea rolls her eyes in disgust at her own weak will. "I can stay mad forever. If I wanted to." She points out ineffectively.
"But you don't want to." Bradin shakes his head as he takes a step towards her.
"Only because my aura just got back from its bimonthly cleaning." She has to have the last word.
He sweeps her up into his arms. As they hug, he notices how small she seems in his arms-- as if she would fall through his embrace if he didn't cling on tight enough. "I hated you being mad at me."
"I hated being mad." She answers, her voice muffled from speaking into his sweater.
"Can we never fight again?"
Lea pauses for a second, before answering. "I don't know. What are your thoughts on the portrayal of 19th century gender stereotypes in the Bronte novels and Victorian chauvinism? Because I always thought that--"
Before she elaborates any more auxiliary details about Currer, Ellis, and Acton, Bradin pulls her towards him by lightly grabbing the back of her nape. He crooks his head and brushes his lips lightly across hers. Lea wraps her arms around his waist, angling her face to meet his. She feels her breath being swept away.
Just as Lea's heart begins to beat too fast to be considered healthy, above their heads, a familiar ring interrupts their make-up session, or more fittingly, their make-out session.
"Oh crap!" Lea pulls away with a disturbed frown.
"You should have told me earlier if I'm that bad of a kisser."
"No! Not at all! It's just that... that was the tardy bell for second period! And I have marine bio, and that's on the other side of the school...,"
"Lea, you have like, 99% in that class!"
"And I'd like to keep it that way!" She tells him as she drags him out of the classroom.
Hand in hand, they walk together until they reach a figurative fork in the road, where Lea must exit the towards the science building.
"So, I'll see you later?"
"Yeah, later." She gives him the smile that manages to make him see stars every time.
"Oh, and Lea?"
"Yeah?"
"So what was that about me, being not at all that bad of a kisser?" Bradin asks with an impish smile.
"Don't push your luck!" Lea shakes her head, warm silvery hazel-green eyes rolling as she pushes through the double doors.
Lea sat leaning against a wall, facing Bradin. One of his hands is behind her head, running through her hair, and the other hand is around her waist on the her lower back. Lea's hands are wrapped around Bradin's neck, and their tongues are intertwined as their lips worked furiously against each other.
Callie and Adam stare at them for two seconds before sitting down at their usual lunch table.
"Why do they even bother buying lunch? They're, like, eating each other's faces."
"I don't know. I can't imagine that it'd be tastier than mystery meat loaf."
"Maybe it's an acquired taste."
"Must be."
"How are we supposed to eat with them devouring each other's faces right here?"
"You tell me. We just better do it fast, because I'm going to need time to run to the bathroom and majorly heave before 5th period."
Their discouraging conversation fails to daunt the couple in love, who maintain the lip lock until their brains scream out for oxygen, forcing them to break for air.
Adam snorts rudely, "And here I thought they've managed to devolve towards efficient epithermal respiration, you know, like earthworms."
"Aren't earthworms unisexual?" Callie frowns. "Or asexual?" Biology is not her best subject.
"Apparently, these two are neither." Adam observes.
Unable to hear, see, or really notice anyone other than each other, Bradin presses his forehead against Lea's.
"I missed you." Bradin tells her breathlessly.
"Me too." Lea replies, equally breathless.
Callie rolls her eyes as she attacks her carrots, "they weren't talking for like, 16 hours, tops."
"I felt so bad." Bradin says
"I know what you mean. Plus J.B. and I were fighting at home... it was pretty stark at the Noel dinner table last night." Lea pouts slightly.
"What did you guys fight about?" Bradin asks densely.
"Dirty money in the Republican campaign." Lea frowns sideways sarcastically, "you! You dork!"
"You fought with J.B. about me?" Bradin repeats, slowly letting the significance of that occurrence sink in, feeling guilty and somewhat important at the same time. Lea and J.B. never fought about anything, they argue and analyze heatedly, but he knows that they never really fight in the "Mom, ask J.B. to pass the salt," way.
"Yeah. I mean you are definitely an ass for hitting him. But I know he hasn't been Pollyanna himself either."
Bradin gazes at Lea adoringly. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. I still expect you to apologize to him."
The adoring gaze morphs quickly into "Are you insane?"
"Bradin," Lea gives him a Please Do It For Me look. "I need you to at least try. It would mean a lot to me."
He rolls his eyes at himself, it's impossible to refuse the look. "Fine."
"Thank you." Her face breaks out in a smile.
"Can I kiss you now?"
"Um...," she smiles as she pretends to consider, "if you must."
"I insist." Bradin grins as he once again captures Lea's lips.
Adam coughs and clears his throat. "Ugh, I had to swallow my own throw-up just now."
Callie looks at Adam, disgusted. "Sign the papers, my appetite has been officially ruined." Callie pushes away her macaroni and cheese.
After school, Lea accompanies Bradin to his basketball practice.
"I gotta change."
"I'll be in the gym."
"Okay."
"Okay."
In the spaciously vacant gymnasium, Lea waits for J.B.'s arrival. J.B. is always the first one in the gym. And sure enough, he walks in, less than three minutes later, wearing a gray cut-off T-shirt and baggy shiny red basketball shorts, palming the ball in alternate hands.
"J.B.!" Lea springs up from her spot on the bleachers.
"Lea." J.B. answers.
"Look, Bradin's about to come in here in about five minutes."
"Then he'd be three minutes late, practice starts in two minutes." J.B. informs her.
"Okay, shut up." Lea wrings her hands. "J.B., my boyfriend is going to come in here, and he's going to say he's sorry and you're going to tell him, don't sweat it."
"In which alternate universe?"
"J.B., please!"
"Look at this jaw, little sister, I'm sweating quite profusely, and rightly justified so."
She takes a deep breath. "Look, he's going to apologize, and I need you to accept it."
"Why? You seem to be set on dating him with or without my approval."
"True. But I would really appreciate it if you didn't hate him. It would really mean the world to me."
In frustration, J.B. hurls the basketball in his hand at the glass backboard. "Lea, you're going to be in tears at the end of this!"
Lea jumps only slightly at the loud thud. She nods, biting the bottom of her lips. "Yeah. I know. I'll probably be hysterical, and they'll probably have to put me on Prozac and Paxil and Zoloft."
J.B. rolls his eyes.
"But I think it'll be worth it." Lea squeezes out a small smile. "Because my heart jumps into my throat whenever he walks in the room, and... the sun shines a little brighter when he smiles at me, and... and butterflies hatch in my stomach when he says my name. J.B., I can honestly vouch that I like him as much as I like coffee."
"That bad?"
"That good," Lea corrects him almost wistfully.
J.B. sighs, but the look on his sister's face is one so earnest and radiant that even the devil cannot refuse. "I'm not going to say don't sweat it."
"Please?"
"You're going to have to settle for a whatever."
Her face breaks out in a smile. "Whatever is adequate."
"Lea, you know that I don't hate Bradin, right? I just don't want to see you get hurt."
"I know, but I'm not afraid to get hurt J.B. Because you see, I have this older brother who's really overbearingly protective, and insane, and wonderful. And he's going to hold my hand through the twelve step program at the end."
"Great."
"You are."
"I know. I have a fan club to prove it." J.B. informs her matter-of-factly.
Lea rolls her eyes and wrinkles her nose.
They can hear the thudding of basketballs echoing from the hallway.
Bradin walks in with a couple of other boys on the team, wheeling in a rack of basketballs. They disperse themselves amongst the various baskets, warming up and horsing around.
As nonchalantly as possible, Bradin makes his way to J.B. "Hey man,"
J.B. launches a shot from the three-point line.
"Hey J.B., look, I'm sorry."
Another shot flies from J.B.'s fingers. "Whatever."
Bradin exhales, somewhat relieved. At least J.B. didn't exact revenge and pounce on him, shouting expletives. Bradin ventures to let go a jump shot of his own. It spins around the rim and just tips out of the basket.
"You want to roll it off your fingers less and work more on the flick of the wrist."
"What?"
"Your jump shot. It does that because you put too much spin on it. More arc, less spin, higher accuracy."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Thanks."
"It's not for you. This team is going to be state champion this year, you just happen to be on it."
"Oh."
"Yeah." J.B. frowns at the repetitiveness of their exchange. "So what are you waiting for?"
Bradin looks at J.B., lost. "Huh?"
"Try the shot again!" J.B. looks at Bradin with an annoyingly expectant look.
From the door frame of the gym, Lea looks on happily, a heavy rock finally lifted from her chest.
J.B. watches as Bradin manages to put in a couple more jump shots. This is the boy that his precious little sister likes more than coffee. He's probably one of two people who can understand the significance in that statement. Because his little sister doesn't just like coffee,
she loves it.
