Was this finally it, he wondered, as stamping feet and sharp curse words alike echoed through the thin walls of his best friend’s house? After six years, would this finally be what tore their threesome apart, like the faded hallway wallpaper facing him now?

“You know, if I didn’t know better-“

“Of course you don’t. You don’t know shit, Derek!”

“-I’d say you were actually happy Lily and I are done!”

This was his destiny, it seemed. To be the innocent child torn from either side, in a ferocious custody battle between the quarreling “parents” he’d once called his friends.

“-not six years old anymore, Brandon. I can’t just drop everything when you need me. I’ve got a life outside of you.”

“Some life.”

He swallowed hard, knowing Brandon was pushing it now.

“Well, you know what? Some is better than none. At least, that’s what I used to think.” A pause. “Now I’m not so sure.”

Waking up from the dream later, Miles couldn’t figure out what had chilled him more: the biting March breeze let in by the open window, or Derek’s words. He didn’t especially like dwelling on the latter memory, all things considered, so he chose the wind.

“Any interesting dreams?” his mother asked at the breakfast table. It was a typical early morning conversation starter of hers, but he almost never had an answer for her. And now that he did, he didn’t feel like sharing. So he gave his usual reply: “Not really.” Not quite a yes, and not quite a no. But it usually made his mom happy.

“Mrs. Archer called earlier this morning. Apparently, Brandon never came home last night. She sent him a text, but he just said he would find ‘another place to sleep,’” She looked at Miles over her mug of herbal tea. “You haven’t been hiding him up in your room, have you?” She chuckled, but it wasn’t a convincing “ha-ha, how silly” kind of laugh. It was the kind that asked, “No, really, you didn’t. Right?”

“No,” he answered truthfully. “He called me last night, though. Said he was spending the night at another friend’s house.”

She swallowed her tea roughly and coughed. He was pretty sure it wasn’t because the tea was too hot. “Other friend?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, hoping she wouldn’t ask any follow-up questions. Miles was a decent enough liar, but he wasn’t sure he could create a persona for this made-up “other friend” on the spot. He knew as well as anyone at school or in their tiny neighborhood did that Brandon only ever hung around with him and Derek. Derek wasn’t an option for either of them anymore, though.

“By the way,” his mother’s voice spoke up again. “Don’t forget that your father’s going to call tonight at 8. You don’t have any other plans, right?”

“No. But is it okay if I meet up with Brandon in the park later? He said he had something he wanted to talk about.”

Mom nodded, her face softening. “Go ahead. You two need each other right now.”

Two hours later, Miles came over the old stone bridge that had been in this park for at least a hundred years, long before he had moved here. He walked carefully to avoid the puddles forming from the ice melting in the heat of the early March sun. As he stepped gingerly, he happened to glance down at the water below, remembering how he, Brandon, and Derek would jokingly dare each other to jump in when it was especially cold. The memory sent yet another shiver through him, and he pulled his glance away. Reaching the end of the bridge, he did a quick glance-around for Brandon. As always, he was easy to spot. He didn’t like it when other kids at school called his friend “Dracula” or “vampire”, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see where they were coming from. Brandon’s pitch-black hair, typically worn long and rarely brushed, was at odds with his stark, pale skin. On especially bright and sunny days like today, it practically glowed.

Brandon’s appearance was nothing special. What he was doing while he sat on one of the park benches was. He was reading a book-something he only did for school, and under protest at that- and he even seemed interested in it. So interested that he didn’t even notice Miles until he was practically towering over him.

“What’s that?” he asked, startling Brandon. A dark head looked up at him with a surprisingly emotional face. Had he been crying?

Brandon cleared his throat, answering in his usual stoic, husky tone. “Just something I found on my mom’s bookshelf. Check it out.”

Taking the book when it was offered, Miles scanned the cover. It didn’t seem like anything special- a plain yellow background illustrated with brown roses and the author’s name in all capital letters on top. Why this book? he wondered.

Then the title caught his eye, and everything froze.

“The- the Virgin Su-“ He struggled to pronounce the word he’d been sidestepping for weeks on end. “Suicides?”

“You got it.”

With those three words, Miles gave the other boy a slow, wary once-over. In the weeks after Derek’s funeral, he’d noticed the people in their small Minnesota town paying a little extra attention to both him and Brandon. Probably wondering which one of us is going to be next, he’d thought scornfully at the time. Well, they didn’t have to worry about him. He had a mom who loved him, even if she could be a little nosy. His dad may have only been home every few months, but that was the military for you. And it was better than no dad at all, as he’d seen firsthand with both Brandon and Derek.

Brandon. He turned his attention back to his friend- the only one he had left- who had the book back in his possession. Now, he was thumbing through the pages again, with a thoughtful, almost calculated, look on its face. Miles realized he needed to tread lightly, or risk pushing his friend over the edge (gruesome as that sounded). “So-“

“I want to do it.”

Not expecting Brandon to cut in so quickly, he was left open-mouthed as the proclamation hit him square in the face, like a boxing glove. “Do…what?”

“In the book, all these girls form a suicide pact. They…they all agreed to kill themselves a couple of years apart.”

“Why?” Miles’ heart was pounding so hard, he was sure it could be seen through his bulky sweatshirt.

“That’s just it. No one ever found out why. It just- happened. Kind of like Derek, y’know?”

Oh.

Miles sighed, hand covering his face. “We can’t fix this by doing exactly what he did,” he said slowly.

Brandon snorted. “But I deserve it.”

“What?”

“I…” His voice caught almost instantly, eyes filling with anger. Not at him or Derek, Miles realized, but himself. “I pushed him into this. Every time he broke up with another girl, every time he and his mom fought. I was never there for him like he was for me. I trusted him…I did. But I just couldn’t bring myself to get closer. Couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I love-“

Brandon cut himself off, flushing, but it was too late. Miles stared at him in awe, realizing what he was about to confess.

Suddenly, he remembered his first day of school here in Minnesota, the day he met Derek and Brandon. Derek had been the one to approach him, with that perpetual easygoing air about him. Miles had been to four schools before this one, and this was the most kindness anyone had ever shown to him on a first day.

When Derek brought him over to the table she shared with Brandon and introduced them, Miles could see the other boy’s guard go up within seconds. With every friendly word, every joke Derek directed towards him, he could see Brandon’s eyes get darker and darker, as though a deadly storm was brewing in his mind. It was the same look, he realized with a start, that he’d given to all of Derek’s girlfriends in the past. He had always worried that Brandon was too dependent on the other boy; never had it occurred to him that it went so much deeper.

“Listen,” he began, sitting next to Brandon on the bench. “It’s okay to feel guilty. But you can’t get over it like this- without at least talking to someone about it first. Just like I can’t leave my life behind because you ask me to,” he continued gently. “And you can’t make a pact with just yourself, so…I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Yeah…” Brandon chuckled, but a hint of bitterness leaked into his voice. “Stuck.”

Miles winced, but he knew his friend’s reaction was normal. He just needed time, and Miles was going to be there for him every step of the way.

“Want to come over to my house for dinner? My mom’s making chicken parmesan. Oh,” he remembered, “Your mom’s probably wondering where you are- you should text her or something.”

Brandon nodded noncommittally as they started out of the park. They were nearing the crosswalk when he drew to a sudden halt. “Hey, I think I forgot something in the park. Be right back.”

“You want me to come?”

“No thanks…”

After six minutes had gone by, and there was no sign of his friend’s reappearance, Miles made his way back to the park. Brandon had told him not to come with, but if today was any indication, he wasn’t always great at asking for help. Off he headed, aimlessly humming to himself, mind preoccupied by the events of the day.

And then he came in view of the old bridge, and felt as though his world was falling away before his eyes.

A dark figure perched on the edge of the bridge, feet poised, eyes shut tight. Miles immediately broke into a run, trying to yell, but found his voice catching every time he tried. His right foot came forward, and suddenly he was on the ground, tripped up by a lingering bit of ice on the sidewalk.

Brandon jumped.

Realistic Fiction