All American Boys

1. The Virgin of Bethlehem

All American Boys

Chapter 1: The Virgin of Bethlehem

Stars of Bethlehem -I never really understood why Alicia loved them so much. She'd pick them whenever she saw them and pressed them between the pages of her French dictionary. Once they were brittle, papery frames of their former selves, she'd laminate them and place them everywhere, from her journals to her textbooks. She had pinned a few of them up on her corkboard, and she even embroidered their likeness onto her favourite denim jacket. Whenever I had to clean her room, I was bound to find one of them somewhere, all dried up, the petals brittle and dry.

But I wouldn't fault her. Those stars, even though every sip of life had seeped out of their petals, never ceased to be beautiful. There was just something so enchanting about them when they were dry and half translucent, the petals so delicate and fragile where one wrong slip of the finger could tear them apart. After all, dead stars were far more alluring.

I guess the live ones had to suffice for now. I looked down at them, arranged in a bouquet I bought from the florist. I had ordered it specially for her. Even alive, the flowers were still gorgeous. It had an ephemeral quality to it, the fresh dewy blossoms nearing the ends of their lives, ready to rot. I wondered if they knew they were going to die. Or were they already dead? But for now, they bask in their beauty.

You think too much, Alex. Maybe that's why no one likes you.

Heaving a sigh, I leaned against the bench. I'm sure she'd love them either way. Dead or alive. Brittle or blooming.

"If it isn't Alex."

My heart thumped at that familiar voice. Not even wasting a second, I turned around to face him. I tried not to look too excited, but it was hard when I haven't seen him in months. He stood there in an olive hoodie, his brown hair shorter than it used to be, his grey-blue eyes smiling as much as his lips.

"Oh, Hayden!" I said out loud, nearly tossing the bouquet onto the bench. "It's so great to see you again."

He took a step towards me, his arms wide open. I nearly collapsed into him, and we embraced. His grip was tight, while my hands were merely touching his back. I could smell the faint traces of his cologne as my heart thumped in my chest and an embarrassing warmth crept to my cheek.

"Woah there, you alright?" Hayden asked me after we parted, his tone concerned. "You're all red. Sorry if I hugged you too tight."

"Well," I said chuckling nervously. "Your grip had always been bone crushing."

That, and the fact that I was exhausted.

Hayden laughed as he scratched the back of his head.

"Heh," he replied. "Yeah, I guess I've got to kick that habit. But you know, I've always been a wrestler."

"You've always been good at whatever you did," I said, trying to hide how nervous I was.

Come on Alex, you've literally known him for years. Get a grip.

The young man looked over my shoulder at the bench.

"Are you waiting for a date or something?" he asked, pointing towards the bouquet I left on the bench. "Sorry if you're in the middle of something. Wonder who's the lucky girl?"

"N-No," I muttered. "Well actually, yeah. Not a date but -I -uh"

Hayden raised an eyebrow, a gentle smile on his lips. He seemed to want to ask me if there was anything wrong, but was probably too polite to say anything.