Something sharp drove through my chest. I forced myself not to look away. I kept watching.
Because I needed to learn how not to care.
After the watch was fastened on Vivian's wrist, Brenda happily dragged him up to sing.
They were all over each other. During the love songs, their eyes locked, brimming with tenderness meant only for each other.
They kept inching closer. Vivian's arm slid around Brenda's waist without a shred of shame, and he turned to shoot me a look dripping with provocation and triumph.
I kept my face blank and drained a full glass of beer in one go.
The party dragged on until eleven. Brenda had drunk too much. She was half-lidded, slumped against Vivian, her arms looped around his neck, mumbling for him to take her home.
Vivian looked at me, the corner of his mouth curling. "Tony, maybe you should be the one to take Brenda home."
Before I could speak, Brenda flung her hand dismissively, slurring, "No. I hate him today. I don't want him taking me anywhere."
"I'm going to your place. I promised I'd spend the night with you."
"That's..." Vivian put on a show of alarm and turned to me quickly. "Tony, she's had too much. She doesn't mean it. Don't take it to heart."
I shrugged. "She hates me. She insists on staying with you. So she's all yours. Take her home, take her to your place, whatever you want."
I left without looking back. My eyes were already burning red.
On the way home, memories of Brenda flickered through my mind like a reel that wouldn't stop.
Childhood sweethearts. Growing up side by side. My whole world had been full of her.
From kindergarten through college, I'd kept her behind me, shielding her from anything that might hurt her.
In elementary school, an older kid made her cry. I grabbed her hand, marched her straight to him, and demanded an apology. It turned into a fight. She got her apology. I got a swollen face and a bloody nose, but I was grinning the whole way home.
Every year on her birthday, I begged my parents to buy up every firework in the city and take out the front page of every newspaper just for her.
When we were sixteen, our families sat down and arranged our engagement. I was so happy I didn't sleep a single minute that night.
I thought we'd walk together like that forever. Side by side until our hair turned gray.
Then Vivian came along, and everything changed.
She stopped being playful with me. What replaced it was scolding and shouting.
I endured it. Again and again. Not for any grand reason. Just because I loved her.
But did she love me? Before today, I'd been certain of the answer.
She loved me too.
I was wrong.
She never loved me that much.
Twenty years together. Could that really lose to three?
It could.
The next morning, I saw Brenda outside the classroom.
Her face was pale, her legs unsteady. Vivian hovered beside her, holding her arm with exaggerated care.
I paused for a beat, then walked past them like nothing was wrong.
Brenda stopped me.
"What is it?" My voice was flat.
Brenda wouldn't meet my eyes. She stared at the ground. "So, last night, Vivian drove me home. I'd had so much to drink that I passed out the second I got in. I forgot to call and let you know I was safe."
"Oh." I nodded. "Anything else?"
She clearly hadn't expected me to be this indifferent. Her brow furrowed. "You don't believe me?"
"I believe you. I just didn't sleep well. I'm tired."
"Take care of yourself. You can't drink like that again." She said it like a warning, then hesitated before wrapping her arms around me gently.
"Yesterday was my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you or said those things just to hurt you. I'm sorry."
"Oh, and I have a surprise for you at the coming-of-age gala tonight."
I smiled. "Funny. I have one for you too."
"Really?" Her eyes lit up. "We really do think alike."
I smiled and headed toward the classroom. Just before stepping through the door, I glanced back on instinct. Vivian's face was dark, and Brenda was clinging to his arm, pouting and cooing like nothing in the world was wrong.
Ha.
I let out a scornful laugh and walked into the classroom without looking back.
The coming-of-age gala started right on time. Every student's parents were there, and naturally, both my family and Brenda's had come.
One by one, students took the stage to thank their parents.
When it was Brenda's turn, she gave the usual grateful speech to her mom and dad. Then she turned to me, dropped to one knee, held up a ring, and said in a voice loud enough for the entire hall to hear:
"Tony, will you marry me?"
The whole room erupted in shock.
Asher Pruitt and Noreen Pruitt beamed with joy.
My parents were smiling too. Only my grandfather sat expressionless.
I looked over at Vivian. He was grinning from ear to ear, holding up one finger in my direction. A taunt. A dare.
I smiled. Then, under the gaze of every person in that room, I walked up to the stage. Step by step.
Brenda watched me with bright, expectant eyes.
I paused for a moment. Then I reached out, plucked the ring from her hand, turned, and hurled it straight at Vivian. My voice rang across the hall.
"I won't be marrying Brenda. Because she and Vivian Donaldson are the real couple. Let's all give them our blessing."
I started clapping. Alone. Then I turned back to Brenda, still on her knees, and said softly:
"Surprise. Did you like it?"
