Date Me, Bryson Keller(48)

“I finally found parking.”

“You came together?” Shannon asks.

“Yeah,” Bryson says. “We both really love this band. So it made sense just to come together.”

She pushes past me, adding an elbow just for my benefit. “You could have told me.”

“What are you doing here? You like the Graces?”

“Of course,” Shannon lies.

I snort, which earns me a glare from Shannon. The three of us end up standing in line together. With Shannon as our third wheel, we aren’t able to talk freely. So instead, we spend most of the time just stealing looks at each other.

The line moves forward, and soon it’s our turn. Bryson and I hand our tickets to the attendant, and she gives us our bracelets to let us enter. Then Shannon hands over her ticket.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t enter,” the attendant says.

“What do you mean?” Shannon asks.

“This ticket is fake.” The attendant holds the ticket up to the light overhead. “Where’d you buy it?”

“Online,” Shannon says.

    “When?”

“This week.”

“I think you’ve been duped,” the attendant says. She hands the ticket back to Shannon. “Next, please.”

“This isn’t fair,” Shannon says. She looks from the attendant to us. But there isn’t anything Bryson or I can do. With no other choice, we wave goodbye and enter the venue.

The Echo is small, so it’s already full of people. My eyes scan the crowd. Ahead of us there is a gay couple. They walk hand in hand proudly. Bryson sees the same thing I do. He looks at me. The Graces fandom is very LGBTQ friendly, and all around us that shows.

“We’re in a city where no one knows us,” Bryson says. “We can be whoever we want to be.” He takes my hand. I see other same-sex couples and smile. Bryson’s right. I turn to smile at him.

“Let’s go.” We meander our way to find a place to stand. No one looks at us; no one says anything. We’re all just here to have fun and watch the Graces. For the first time in my life, I hold another boy’s hand in public. This is what life should be.

Bryson pulls out his phone and takes a picture of the stage. He uploads it to Instagram: Let’s rock.

And when the Graces take the stage, we do.



* * *



? ? ?

Three hours later, we file out of the Echo. We’re sweating and smiling. My throat feels sore from all the singing out loud. We both carry our jackets and caps now, the high from the concert keeping us warm.

    “We should get something to drink. When I was parking, I saw a café that’s open till late.” Bryson points in the direction and we start walking. The café, Stories, reminds me a lot of Off the Wall. It’s a bookstore and coffee shop. We manage to order something just before it closes for the night. We get something cold, and I pay. Bryson doesn’t even bother to argue, because he’ll pay next time. And that I know there will be a next time fills me with joy. Even though it’s Friday night already, I don’t think I have to dread the end of this. With each moment I spend with Bryson, I’m growing more certain.

We leave Stories behind.

“There’s a park not far away from here,” Bryson says. “Want to check it out before we go home?”

“Okay,” I say. We head in that direction. I take a sip of my drink and my throat rejoices. The cool liquid does wonders for my strained vocal cords.

“I think I might lose my voice,” I say.

“You were very loud,” Bryson says. “You surprised me.”

I hold my hand up in the classic rocker symbol. “I had the rock spirit.”

Bryson bumps into me on purpose as we walk. “You’re cute.”

“Stop it. You’re going to make me blush.”

“I know,” Bryson says with a laugh.

We walk so close that our shoulders touch. It’s all I think about in the silence that follows. He’s so close to me.

    When we reach Echo Park, we stop walking and turn to study the view. The downtown lights are reflected on the lake before us. This moment is picturesque, it’s perfect. This whole night has been. Bryson clears his throat nervously. He looks around to see that we’re alone before turning his full attention to me.

“There’s something I want to do,” Bryson says. “Something I think I need to confirm for myself. I feel like it’s the only way that I’ll know for sure.” He doesn’t sound sure about himself at all, though. He’s nervous, and it’s cute. Butterflies spring to life in my stomach.

“What is it?”

His eyes move from mine, down to my lips. He studies them before meeting my gaze again.

“I want to kiss you,” he says. “I’ve wanted to for a while now.” His voice is low, gruff, nothing more than a whisper. “Can I?”

We’re in a city where no one knows us, standing at the cliff, waiting to jump. My eyes move to his lips. Right now there is nothing more that I want in this world than for Bryson Keller to kiss me.

“Yes.”

One word that changes everything. He closes the distance between us. Bryson’s lips meet mine. The kiss is tentative at first. It’s a test, a question seeking an answer. Soon, though, it deepens. His mouth moves against mine.