We Go Down (Bremmy 2)

Chapterish 4

Another hour later and it's almost dark out now. Trix and Travis stand to leave for his apartment. We say our goodbyes and I promise Trix that yes, I'll be back in two weeks for the cabin party. No, I won't bail. Yes, I'm sure.

The brewery transitioned to its night crowd and it's more packed than it was before. I was right. Hipsters. Lots of beanies and flannel. Flannel all around.

Brooks and I move from our high-top, leaving our ass imprints behind on the chairs, to a cozy sofa in the corner. It's under a set of string-lights and next to the open garage door. Heat lamps blazing next to us. Feels more like fall than winter. Not mad about it. Bring on cider #4.

It hits me.

I'm alone with Brooks. For the first time since I agreed to come to NYC, since I agreed to go out with Trix and Trav and third-wheel their NYE date. Since we went to the bar and since I saw Brooks and since I slept with him and woke up in his arms. It's like the whole time I didn't realize I was going to hit this point.

Trix and Travis are gone now, but I'm still here, still in the brewery in Brooklyn, getting buzzed with my newly non-ex ex of too many times. It's not the four of us hanging out. It's the two of us. At it again. I have him to myself. For the rest of the night. And tomorrow. For as long as I want.

"What are you thinking about?" Brooks asks, his hand nudging my shoulder.

"Just, this." I say, shrugging my shoulders into him.

"I get it," he says, his chest moving beneath me.

A new waiter drops us drinks and dinner on the table next to the couch. A song comes on that I'm pretty sure I've heard five times since we got here.

"We're on the same page, right?" I ask without turning to look at him.

"So no putting it off, then? No dancing around the important stuff?" Brooks asks, his tone playful.

"I don't want to do anything to mess it up. Whatever it is. I don't think I could make it again," I say, keeping my voice steady. "I mean, tell me we're in the same book at least?"

"We're in the same book. Same chapter, same page. Same line, same word. We are the same story, you and me. We write together moving forward." Brooks says, pulling my chin up to look at him. "Deal?"

"Deal." I nod.

He kisses me lightly on the lips and I lean my head against his chest again. I'm aware the PDA is excessive for us. I'm also aware I've waited years to be in this spot with him. And I don't mean on a cozy couch at a brewery in Brooklyn.

"So do we take turns writing or share the pen?" I joke.

"Pen? Maybe safer if we use pencil." Brooks laughs.

"We could type. Use doc sharing. Spell check. The works," I offer.

"I like that. We can bold the good parts." He nods.

"Deal."

We finish the night recapping our last six months spent apart. All the gory details. The who and the what. The why for a lot of things. And that all brought us to the how.

The how are we going to do this?

Tell people. That's where we start. I'm not trying to make it a huge thing. I don't need a dramatic unveiling. No dating reveal party. I just maybe don't relish in the idea of showing up on my parents' doorstep, back home, holding Brooks's hand for the umpteenth time. Explaining how no really, it's different this time.

Well, that's exactly what's going to happen.

As for everyone else, they know. We video-chatted with Meg and Nate and Brody and Lauren. Even Alex. Was sort of amazed how normal everything felt. At the lack of resentment there. We put the combustible weekend of Tenfire behind us and with it everything that happened and everything that was said.

Yup, swept it under the rug like leftover ash that would never again see the light of day. Responsible.

At the end of everything, we decided where we are now is better than where we were. And if we wanted any chance of having a future, of writing our story together, then it had to stay that way.

What happened happened.

"How many nights do you have this place?" Brooks asks, pulling me by the hand into my own hotel room.

"It's the last night," I say with a fake sad face. "But I could be persuaded to stay."

"Oh?" Brooks grins, spinning me around by the hand.

We share a drunken dance in the space next to my bed, both of us losing articles of clothing along the way. Brooks spins me around and twirls me into him. My bare chest is against his and he pulls at my black lacy thong. We laugh into each other's mouths and feel each other with our hands.

We're 15 again, drunk and in love, and it feels like we've never gone this far before. Like maybe this could be the first time.

I step out of my black lacy and Brooks pulls me up to his waist.  I wrap my legs around him and we fall onto the bed. The floor-length window behind the bed is showing me all of Manhattan right now, the lights flickering like stars.

Brooks always looks good under stars.

I lower my head to his lips and we kiss.

I'm thinking of the song I heard a hundred times today. Of the question in it that I want to ask him, but don't need to because this moment is the answer.

If The World Was Ending, you'd come over right?

So begins mixtape 2.