His comment wasn’t enough to bring them out of the lull. His dad finished his meal, pushed the plate toward the center, and checked his phone. Like a waterfall cascading, Alex, Cliff, and his mom took out their phones for a quick check. Alex was the only one of them actively texting someone. Probably his girlfriend Rosie, who was currently studying abroad.
“I can’t believe we’re empty nesters. Time to start planning trips.” His mom leaned back so the waiter could clear her plate. His dad asked for the check. He was never one to dilly dally at meals. He had been a waiter in high school and told his kids how frustrating it was for tables to sit around well past eating on busy nights, depriving waitstaff of additional tips.
“What are you up to tonight?” Cliff asked his brother.
Alex continued to be enraptured by his phone.
“Alex.” Cliff waved a hand in front of his face.
“Alex, aren’t you seeing Brennan?” his mom asked whilst scrolling.
Cliff pulled his hand back, his body snapping into a poised position.
“Yep. We’re gonna get a drink.” Alex slipped his phone back in his pocket.
As both a basketball player and a closeted homosexual, Cliff had learned quickly the need to be two steps ahead, the importance of anticipation. But he didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to anticipate this.
“We were texting just now. I told him to meet me here since we’re finishing up.”
What.
“Brennan Marks?” His dad finished off his wine.
“He goes here now,” Alex said. “He just transferred.”
“WHAT?!”
The Warners immediately stopped what they were doing and looked at their youngest born. Cliff realized he’d asked the question aloud. Very aloud. So aloud that the neighboring tables, and the waiter refilling Alex’s pop, whipped their heads to gander at him.
“Is that a problem?” Alex asked.
“No.” Cliff shook his head, grateful for the darkening sky that hid whatever color his face must’ve looked. “No. I just...didn’t know.”
“His other school had a toxic art program, he said. Not sure what that means, but I’m sure I’ll find out.”
Cliff was both listening intently and finding it hard to concentrate. He thought he’d shoved his personal Brennan dossier to the bottom of his mental filing cabinet.
He had not.
Brennan is here?
“That’s so nice that the three of you can be together again. The Three Musketeers.” His mom had a nostalgic twinkle in her eye. “I have so many wonderful memories of you boys hanging out in the basement and playing in the backyard.”
The Three Musketeers wasn’t a true description. It was Alex and Brennan, best friends til the end, and then Cliff, the tagalong little brother who was the butt of their pranks. Cliff wasn’t sure when he started to see Brennan as more than Alex’s friend, when his like turned intolike. But he remembered the day it kicked into hyperdrive.
It was two years ago, the summer before his junior year of high school. Brennan came over for a swim at their pool and final barbecue before leaving for college. Cliff came home from basketball camp, went to the bathroom, and walked in on Brennan changing out of his swimsuit. The door was only open for about two seconds, but they stretched out to infinity in his mind. The sight of Brennan’s bare ass, and the tantalizing mystery of what lay on the other side, imprinted itself on Cliff’s brain. It was the memory that launched a thousand masturbation fantasies.
“Here he is now.”
Brennan is here!
His mental filing cabinet whooshed open. Every thought and feeling and sigh and swoon over Brennan Marks that had been gathering dust the past two years swirled between his ears.
The Warners greeted Brennan with warm hellos. Alex pulled him into a manly bear hug that echoed the strength of their friendship. Cliff opened his mouth and could only mime the words. How was he expected to have verbal skills when Brennan had gotten even more attractive since he last saw him?
He was taller - at least six-foot-three, his chest broader, his arms toner, his wavy brown hair a bit overgrown and neatly flopped across his head. His eyes still carried the same magic, like there was a world of mystery at play just behind them. Brennan wore a Hawaiian shirt and hipstery shorts that ended a few inches above the knee.
Cliff steeled himself against staring.
