Date Me, Bryson Keller(53)

“Are we dating?” I ask.

Bryson stops humming and his eyes open. “What?”

“Uh…we haven’t really spoken about it.”

“I didn’t think we needed to,” Bryson says. “I figured I lost the dare when I kissed you.”

“So today was our first day as a couple?”

“Yes.” Bryson sits up and looks at me. “You, Kai Sheridan, are my boyfriend for real.”

I lean in and kiss him. Bryson laughs against my lips, and I try to catch that sound with my mouth. By the time we pull apart, I am breathless and perfectly content.

“We should go home,” I say, now that the sun has set completely.

    Bryson stands and offers me his hand. I let him pull me up and dust the sand from my clothes. We clean up our makeshift picnic. I’m the first to head back to the parking lot. There’s a third car in the parking lot now. Someone climbs out from the car.

It’s Dustin.





23


“What do you think you’re doing?” Dustin demands. He’s looking at me. No, correction: he’s glaring at me.

“Dustin?” Bryson asks when he comes to stand next to me. “What are you doing here?”

“You called me.”

“Earlier, yeah,” Bryson says. “I texted you to tell you I was fine. Kai came.”

“I was out with Brittany,” Dustin says. “It’s why I didn’t hear your calls.”

“It’s no problem, D. I figured you were just busy.” Bryson smiles. He walks over to the trash can and throws away the burger boxes. Bryson’s phone rings then. “Hey, Mom, you home?…Oh, tomorrow?…Yeah, I saw Dad.” Bryson moves farther away from us to continue his conversation with his mother.

“Why are you here?” Dustin asks. His voice is low and dangerous. I take a step back, putting some distance between us.

    “What do you mean? Bryson called me.” I make a move toward my car, but Dustin grabs my arm. He jerks me to a stop. His grip is tight—too tight.

“Hey!” I try to pull my arm free, but he refuses to let go. Our eyes meet, and I see more than anger…maybe even hatred.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Dustin says. “It’s not okay.” Dustin tightens his grip, if that is at all possible.

“Let me go.”

“What’s going on?” Bryson asks. He runs toward us and grabs hold of Dustin’s arm, forcing him to let go.

“Are you siding with him?” Dustin spits.

“About what?” Bryson asks. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Why are you so mad?”

Dustin shoves his phone at us. I peer over Bryson’s shoulder. It takes a moment for me to see what I’m looking at. Like my brain refuses to subject me to what it knows I can’t handle. Slowly, it all comes into focus: it’s a picture of me and Bryson from earlier, and we’re kissing.

Eyes wide, I look up at Dustin.

“You took a picture?” Bryson demands.

“You better stay away from him,” Dustin says to me. His voice is low, and his eyes are cold. “If you don’t, I’ll release this.”

“And now you’re threatening us? What the hell, Dustin?” Bryson says.

“You’re mad? This isn’t right. I’ll fix this.” Dustin turns to me. “You need to stop this.”

“Stop what?” Bryson asks. “What does Kai need to stop?”

    “Making you gay.” Dustin looks at his best friend. “This isn’t you. You’re like a brother to me, BK. We know everything about each other. I was there when your dad first left. You were there for me when my mom got sick. I know you, Bryson. And the Bryson Keller I know is not gay.” Dustin looks between the two of us. “You’re not a f—”

My fist moves without thought. I’ve never been in a fight before, but I’ve also never been this angry, either. And it sure as hell feels good when I’m able to stop Dustin from using that word.

I hit him in the jaw, and he stumbles back. Dustin is hunched over. He looks up and bares his teeth.

“Being gay isn’t a disease, asshole!” I spit. “You can’t catch it. It isn’t contagious.”

Dustin’s lip is busted, but I don’t care. He spits blood and tackles me. I hit the asphalt hard and blink away stars. Bryson is quick to react. He grabs Dustin and pulls him off me. Dustin elbows Bryson in the mouth and charges me again.

I roll over to cover my face. Dustin is bigger than me, years of sports giving him muscles that I don’t have. Even so, I don’t just lie there and take it. I struggle against him, kicking and punching for all I’m worth. It doesn’t make much difference. Dustin has the upper hand.

Bryson saves me. He tackles his best friend and they roll across the asphalt. Bryson pins Dustin. Bryson doesn’t want to fight; he just wants to stop him.

I sit up and bite back my groan. I refuse to give Dustin the satisfaction of hearing how much pain I’m in, how much pain he’s caused. I’ve always been an angry crier. Tears sit unshed in my eyes, not from the pain, but from the anger that burns within me like a thousand suns.

    I exhale and stand.