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Andrew Minyard was irritated. It was the summer before his senior year of high school, and the list of things he could be doing at the moment was seemingly endless. Instead, here he was—standing in the sweltering, sticky heat of a Columbia summer night, staring up at the darkened house that sheltered the bane of his existence.
Neil Josten had moved to town at the beginning of the summer. Somehow, some way, he had wormed his way into Andrew’s limited social group—with his too big, too baggy clothes, his quiet—unless provoked—demeanor, his sharp eyes and sharper smile. Andrew would have been able to ignore it all if it was just his busybody acquaintances that’d adopted him, but no. His family, even his asocial, aloof body double, had for whatever reason taken a shine to him.
And so, Andrew had been exposed to the new kid. Reluctantly. Been exposed to his stupid double-speak with hidden meanings, and his too long sleeves even in heat that could melt flipflops on pavement, and his stupid stories to match his bruises, and his stupid shy smile when Andrew deigned to speak to him.
Yes, Neil was the worst thing to happen to Andrew’s small town since, well, Andrew’s arrival.
And so, here Andrew stood. The overwhelming humidity curling his blond hair around his temples, sticky with sweat. If Andrew could bring himself to regret anything, he’d probably regret the thick black jeans and worn leather jacket he favored. He’d definitely regret giving in to curiosity and spending his precious summer trying to figure out the conundrum that was Neil Josten. If he hadn’t given in, and found Neil (regrettably) interesting, he wouldn’t be in this situation—standing outside of a two-story, darkened window and tossing a small stone up and down, like the definition of every teenage cliché out there.
Yes, Andrew was irritated. Because Neil was interesting. And Neil left their pickup exy game like a bat out of hell to beat his overbearing, paranoid mother home. And Neil didn’t own a phone. And Andrew was bored.
Well, he was perpetually bored. But. He just so happened to be less so when a certain irritant was around.
With an irritated huff, Andrew tossed the stone at the window—Neil’s window. But, like his entire involvement with Neil so far, Andrew miscalculated.
The window shattered.
The window. Shattered.
Fuck.
A hard THUD and a yelled curse sounded from within the room.
Andrew was not familiar with the feeling of panic these days. But. Well, Neil Josten had spent the summer reintroducing Andrew to feelings long forgotten.
He had left his car around the corner so as to not alert Neil’s mother to his presence and he was not a runner. So instead of running away, he ran toward the house and glued himself to the brick wall directly under the window.
A light flicked on, illuminating a small patch of grass on the front lawn three yards in front of Andrew. Silence fell as even the singing cicadas seemed to hold their breath. Then, a tinkle of glass and a shadow morphed the square of light.
“Andrew?”
Fuck.
Andrew looked up to see an amorphous blob backlit from the bedroom light.
“Neil.”
Surrounded by dark and blinded by the single square of light above him, Andrew didn’t see it when the stone was hurled back at him. He definitely felt it bounce off his shoulder though.
“What the fuck?” Neil whisper-shouted, but a laugh was lying in wait under the words and Andrew felt his shoulders relax at his favorite sound. “Hold on,” was called out the window as the shadow disappeared.
Andrew stepped away from the wall and did his best to slow his heart, a futile attempt with Neil Josten involved. Trying to affect nonchalance, he pulled out a cigarette and lit up just as the front door creaked open.
And there he was, in all of his shabby, infuriating glory.
Andrew blew out a cloud of smoke just as Neil stopped a foot in front of him. “The fuck are you doing?”
“Taking a stroll.”
“And you felt the need to break my window on your way by?” Neil scoffed disbelievingly. He leaned in to filch Andrew’s cigarette without letting their hands brush—and Andrew let him. Neil took a harsh drag and exhaled a shaky breath, “My mom’s gonna kill me.”
Andrew scanned the house behind Neil unaffectedly even as his mind raced. With the little, but damning, evidence he’d seen on Neil, Andrew knew Neil’s mother was entirely different kind of problem than her son. “And where is the mother dearest? I’m surprised she’s not out here threatening me yet.” It had happened before—not that Neil knew that.
With Andrew’s reputation, based solely on the few fights he’d gotten into and his overall aesthetic, he had been unsurprised with the veiled threats regarding her son he’d received from Sheila Josten when their paths had crossed.
Neil chuckled as he ran a stressed hand through his auburn curls, “She had a night shift tonight. Left after dinner thankfully or you’d probably have a couple bullet holes right now.” He said it like a joke, but Andrew had a sneaking suspicion that Neil was offering a rare shred of truth.
Andrew hummed in response and pulled another cigarette from his pack to light up. “We can go wake Matt up to fix it before she gets back, then. No harm done,” he said with an uncaring shrug.
“Other than the years taken off my life with that wake-up call? Yeah, everything’s totally fine,” Neil sniped sarcastically, waving his smoke around emphatically. If Andrew was anyone else, he might have taken the snark at face value, but he wasn’t. Over the past summer months, no one had watched Neil Josten like he had, and no one spoke Neil Josten as well as he did. And so he spotted with ease the smile sneaking into the corner of Neil’s mouth. “Any reason for that wake-up call?”
Andrew hummed again and reached to tug on Neil’s ratty t-shirt collar. The smile won the battle and spread across that sharp mouth in victory. The cicadas picked their song back up and the hum reverberated through Andrew as his heart picked up pace once again at the sight.
The heat of the night pressed in close around them and the last weeks of summer stretched out ahead of them in nights Andrew knew would be filled with sharp words and soft smiles.
He tugged again just to watch that smile strengthen.
“Let’s go for a drive.”