The windows of the house were dark but Brady knew better than to hope Steve was sleeping. He used his key to open the door. He saw the flash of movement just in time to deflect the punch. The smell of beer hit him like a train, pushing away the remnants of Ezra's baby shampoo scented hair.
Brady's vision clouded with anger. He was barely aware of the sounds of crashing and grunting. All he could think of was to punch and kick, anything to end it.
An awful screeching sound filled the room and the grown man and teenager stopped their fighting. Brady's mom was holding a broken plate in her hand.
"This was the last fucking piece of my wedding China, Brady! I swear, you just have to destroy everything I have, don't you?!"
Brady wanted to shout that it wasn't just him, but he'd given up on that a long time ago. He knew where her loyalties were.
"Just get out!" she screamed.
Brady started to stand. Steve took the opportunity to punch Brady in the gut one last time as he limped towards the door, cussing and trying not to cry. He was facing another night sleeping in his truck. It just wasn't right, after the beauty of what had happened between him and Ezra. That memory brought back warmth to him and it was like something drew his eyes to the heap of cloth in his passenger seat. His jacket. He brought it to his face and laid down as comfortably as he could. All he could smell at first was his musty cologne, but he could detect traces of baby shampoo and lavender. Ezra.
It was insane how someone that had never spoken a word had changed his entire outlook on life. Other things mattered less now.
Saturday morning passed in a blur. The fundraiser was a success, but Brady never really cared about that.
Sunday dragged on until finally it was Monday, the first day of Spirit Week, and the cafeteria was buzzing with talk of the homecoming dance, so of course it was the topic of conversation at Brady's lunch table. He didn't care about the dance so he was silent.
"Man, I got so many girls wantin' to go with me," Paul bragged. "I don't know what I'm gonna do."
Brady rolled his eyes and glanced over to where Ezra sat. He had noticed that sometimes idiots would go and mess with Ezra. He wasn't going to allow it to continue. Everything looked fine.
"Hello? Brady?" a female voice interrupted his thought.
"What?" he said.
"I was asking if you have a date yet," Abby prompted.
Brady took a quick look at the blond cheerleader he had hooked up with once. She looked hopeful and that wasn't a good sign. He had to make it clear there was no chance that he would ask her or anyone. "Oh, I wasn't planning on going."
Several of his friends spoke at once. "It's your senior year!" "You can't miss this!" "You gotta come!"
"I just don't feel like it. It's always the same music and same decorations. I've been there, done that. I have better things to do."
They continued to try to convince him to show up, but he didn't want to. He didn't want some chick in a short skirt rubbing all over him. There was only one person he wanted to go with, and that would be too dangerous. There were no homosexuals in Westmore. There were more churches than school buildings. Still, Brady wished there was a way that they could share a dance.
**
When Brady arrived at his truck after the team predictably won the game, he saw Ezra already waiting there and couldn't help but smile. "Hey," he said, opening the passenger side door and helping Ezra up into the cab.
He drove to their spot, thinking how amazing it was that Ezra had taken the initiative to seek him out.
