Page 3

Story: Hits Different

Chapter 3

Promise

Three Years Earlier

Parker

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Brandon skids to a halt, open-mouthed. “It’s the biggest party of the year. And the last one before college. You have to come! You agreed . That, my friend, is a verbal contract”.

I lift my sunglasses up, transforming my best friend into technicolour. “For a future lawyer, your logic isn’t logic-ing, Carter”.

It’s a hot afternoon in the last week of school. Neither of us have anything better to do than kick a ball around in our secret spot, a disused patch of land behind my dad’s old office. I’d discovered it right after moving into town, and, after establishing Brandon could be trusted, introduced him to it one day after school.

Over the years, it had been home to imaginary forts, bases, dens, a spot to hide or to escape to. First joints. First beers. It was only this year we’d retired the need for a password.

“Unless you’re recruiting me to hand out canapés, my guess is that it’s going to be identical to every other Carter Summer Ball for the last five years”.

“Mind-numbingly so”, Brandon says cheerfully, rolling the ball from the ground to his toes where it balances with annoying precision. His t-shirt is tucked into his shorts, his skin smooth and tanned in the afternoon light. “You know my mother. Spontaneity is the curse of a free-thinking society”.

“She doesn’t really say that”, I shield my eyes from the sun. “Does she?”

“No. Sounds like her though, doesn’t it?”

“I still can’t believe your parents are using your Graduation party as a fundraising event”. Except I can. It’s perfectly on-brand for them. Not that I can say that to Brandon. “Besides, if this party is going to be full of campaign donors, won’t you be on schmoozing duty all night anyway? You won’t even notice if I’m there or not”.

Like last year , I almost add.

“Once again, you’ve vastly underestimated my schmoozing game. I’m a multi-tasker, Di Rossi. I also possess excellent leadership skills and work well as an individual or as part of a team”. He grins, “All my college essays say so”.

“That kid your parents paid to write them really took some creative licence”. I duck as he boots the ball toward me in mock indignation. “And it’s my last night with Millie before she goes to France”.

“Parker di Rossi. You stand accused of abandoning your best friend in favour of bon voyage sex with your girlfriend”, Brandon narrows his eyes theatrically. “This betrayal will not stand. What do you have to say in your defence?”

I grin. “Au revoir, mon amis”.

“Jackass”.

“Monsieur Jackass to you”. I’m dating Millie St Clare. Her family own the few parts of our town that Brandon’s family don’t. “One whole month apart before we’re reunited”.

“I cannot believe you’re going to the same college as your girlfriend. That’s messed up on so many levels”.

He jogs over to retrieve the ball from the bushes, momentarily disappearing from sight. He always gets salty whenever Millie gets brought up, and I know why. It’s no secret he had a crush on her forever. Everyone at school thought she was into him too.

But it was me she asked to the formal in sophomore year, and me who’s been with her every day since.

It’s the one time in my friendship with Brandon that I haven’t finished in second place.

“The whole point of college”, Brandon reappears without missing a beat, “Is to try new things. It took months to persuade you to apply. There’s a whole new…”

“…World out there”, I roll my eyes, “I know. You’ve said. Several times. Maybe you’re right”. I start counting off on my fingers. “New city. New parties. New…”.

“New best friend?”

“Well, when you put it like that”, I raise my eyebrows. “What am I waiting for?”

I settle back on the warm grass, and it’s only after a few minutes have passed that I realise he hasn’t replied. I open one eye and am surprised to see that he’s sat down where he was standing, his knees pulled up to his chin. “Message received”, he says lightly.

“I was kidding”.I sit up. “You’re my boy, Carter. It’s gonna suck not seeing you every day”.

He nods, absently plucking a blade of grass. “What you said before, about Future-Brandon being a hotshot lawyer”.

“I didn’t use the word ‘hotshot’”.

“It was implied. Do you think that’s all life has in store for me? Being a lawyer”. He gives a little laugh, “I mean, is that it?”

“I hope so. Future-Parker is relying on Future-Brandon to keep him out of jail”.

He smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. Brandon’s future is a tricky subject. I nod pointedly at the soccer ball lying between us. “If soccer is where you think your future is, then go for it. Fuck everyone else”.

“My parents just want what’s best for me”.

Brandon’s parents. The mothership of tricky subjects. “Did I tell you Simon’s got a job at Summit 434?”

Brandon sits bolt upright. “Holy shit! No way. How’d he land that?”

Summit 434 is an apex training and rehab facility for soccer players. A kid a couple of years older than us spent a summer there and got signed to MLS within days. Didn’t even have to finish college. It’s full residential and costs megabucks.

Brandon’s been pleading with his parents for years to let him go.

“He’s starting entry level, but you know Simon”. My cousin is fifteen years older, and the golden boy of the family. We’re not close. “He says he’ll be running the place in five years”.

“Do you think he will?”

“No”, I roll over onto my stomach, instantly depressed, “I think he’ll do it in three”.

“Bastard”, Brandon says loyally. I smile, closing my eyes, reaching for him with one arm. He rests the back of his head against my ribcage, settling down sleepily on the grass. A few moments pass. “You should bring Millie. To the party”.

“Really?”

“Definitely”, he says firmly. “Half the school will be there anyway, what’s one more? My parents will never notice. If anything, they’ll probably hit her up for a campaign contribution”.

Carter’s parties could be fun, and Millie would love to network with the movers and shakers that orbit Brandon’s world. She’s got a closet full of fancy dresses and I could borrow a tux from Brandon.

Plus, my mom could hang the photos on the fridge and pretend like I hadn’t been exiled from prom as punishment for fighting on campus. “Alright. You’re on”.

“You’ll come?” he says happily. “Awesome. I knew you’d change your mind”.

“It must be something”, I reply lazily, “To always get your own way, no matter what. I’d love to cruise through life like that. How’d you manage it?” We both fall silent, and in the heat, my eyes drift to a close. I’m almost asleep before I hear his response.

“Just lucky, I guess”.