The biggest change was his new facial hair. Brennan had a mustache! Neat and trimmed and hemmed to above the lip. One of those ironic dad mustaches that should be repellent but made Cliff gulp down hard. It was like the emphatic underline to Brennan’s good looks.
“Long time no see Warner clan,” he said, his smile wide across his angular face.
“Did you come from a luau?” Cliff’s dad asked.
“We’re going to a bonfire tonight hosted by the art department. Plus, it’s kind of the style again. I know you have a stash of these shirts in your closet, Mr. Warner.”
Cliff found it charming that after all these years, he still referred to their parents as Mr. and Mrs. Warner.
“He’s not wrong.” His dad nodded confirmation at his sons.
Brennan’s laugh overpowered the din of the restaurant. It was loud and confident and would by no means dim itself. Like most things about him, it stirred something within Cliff.
“I can’t believe Cliff is a college boy now.” He turned his dark, discerning eyes on the man of the hour, who wanted to crawl into the fetal position. He walked behind Cliff’s chair and put his large hands on his shoulders. “Excited, Clifford?”
Cliff was short for Clifton, not Clifford, but that had never stopped Brennan from giving him the nickname. More importantly, at this moment, Cliff was excited - very excited - but not in the way Brennan meant.
“Uh huh.” Cliff double-checked that his napkin was still on his lap.
“Clifford. Man of few words. Some things never change.”
We’ll see about that.He didn’t yet know how, but he was ready to ditch the shell and the silence for good.
2
BRENNAN
“Ican’t believe you’re here, man.” Alex slurped down the remainder of margarita number two.
“Reunited.”
“And it feels so--” Alex burped out the last word.
Brennan burst out laughing. Despite being a full-fledged college student, in a fraternity no less, Alex Warner still could not hold his liquor. It was as if no time had passed.
Before they went to the bonfire, Brennan and Alex stopped by Don Pablo’s for some pre-gaming and catching up. It’d been two years since the two friends had seen each other, and texts, Instagram posts, and FaceTiming could only bridge the gap so much.
According to Alex, the Mexican restaurant was known for strong margaritas and not carding students. As what usually happened at Don Pablo’s, one pitcher of margaritas turned into two, and soon they didn’t feel like going to a department-sponsored bonfire. It wasn’t the first impression Brennan wanted to make to his new professors and classmates.
Their pitcher of margaritas had become a slushy ice bucket. Brennan flagged down the waiter for a refill.
“Can you believe Cliff is entering college?” Alex exhaled a breath, seemingly amazed at the passage of time.
“I can’t believe he’s all grown up.” In the span of two years, little Cliff “Don’t Call Me Clifford” Warner had gone from skinny to toned, his body filling out with lean muscle. It was a total glow up. Brennan tried not to stare at the restaurant. “College will do him good. He needs to get out from under your parents. No disrespect to Arthur and Wendy. They’re my peeps.”
Mr. Warner was always an intimidating figure, as if he’d been practicing to be a stern, gruff father since he was twelve. Brennan had felt self-conscious around him, the interloper to the Warner clan.
“I’m hoping he can cut loose here. I have some friends who were on his high school team, and he was a total straight-edge. Didn’t go to that many parties.” Alex’s face creased with concern.
“Well, look where it got him.” Maybe it was good that Cliff wasn’t corrupted. Brennan felt like there were shades to the youngest Warner that Alex couldn’t see. Maybe it was his artistic pretension, but Brennan believed everyone had a rich story inside them. People were all protagonists of their own complex tale.
“He’ll find his way.”
“I’m not saying I want him to be an alcoholic. Like us.” Alex burped. “Or that he needs to party all the time. I’d just like to see him loosen up. He’s too young to be so serious. Life only gets harder.”
“Says the guy who lived on a cul-de-sac and got a new Jeep when he passed his driving test.” Brennan bit his lip, making himself stop. The Warners were rich, but they were good people. They accepted him into their home and always treated him with respect. As close as he was with Alex, though, he still felt that wrong-side-of-the-tracks self-consciousness around them.
“He’s changed,” Alex said. “Cliff used to be the fun, annoying little brother. Remember? Then he got quiet; he became the brooding teenager, I guess. Like we get along fine and everything, but there’s this gap. I’m hoping we can get closer here.” He rubbed a hand over his face, his cheeks blotchy from the alcohol. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying.”
