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“Do you believe in aliens?” Anya was standing on the railing of a bridge, staring out at the inky black of the sky. She was leaning far over the edge, her body pushed forward, her back arched. Her left arm was wrapped around a support beam.
Damian felt his chest constrict with anxiety, “aliens aren’t real.”
“You have no imagination, sy-on boy.” Anya’s voice was light. She reached out with the right arm, to another, similarly shaped structure. When she couldn’t reach, she let go with her left arm. Damian gaped as she stood with no support for a full five seconds before she grasped the following beam and steadied her feet.
“Get down from there,” Damian tried to keep the fear out of his voice.
Anya tossed him a grin over her shoulder. It was dark where they were, no street lights for at least a half-dozen kilometers. She was mostly illuminated by the moon and the glimmering keychain she had attached to her jacket zipper. He could feel more than see the mischievous look on her face.
“Why?” Anya wobbled dangerously, before pitching forward, letting go of the support beams and crouching on the railing.
Damian leapt forward, hand outstretched to grab her. She turned on her heels, a full one-eighty to face him with a shit-eating grin. “Whoa, sy-on. It’s almost as if you care about me or something.”
There was no playing this off as cool, but he tried anyway, “I’d rather not get murdered by your father if I showed up at your doorstep without you.”
Anya grasped the far side of the railing, before pushing her legs out from under her and landing squarely on her tailbone, her calves hanging loosely in front of her, “it’s not him you have to worry about. He’d just be sad. My Mama would murder you, though.”
An encouraging thought , Damian huffed. He turned away from his companion and leaned back, next to her. The railing only came up to his lower back, so Anya was almost the same height as him.
“If you don’t want me to read your mind, you should say things out loud.”
“What if I don’t want you to know what I’m thinking.” Damian glanced up. Anya’s face was a few inches from his. He felt acutely vulnerable, in a way he always felt with her. In a way he was never sure how to quantify.
“What are you thinking, Damian?” Anya asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her pink hair dangled in between them.
Damian liked it here. Below them, he could hear the creek rushing, frogs and crickets croaking. Everything was a quiet reminder of his place in the universe. He wasn’t the son of an influential political family, he wasn’t a top student at the most prestigious school in the country, he was just a teenager. Just a boy who had spent the afternoon tutoring a childhood friend. Just a kid who had dreams of law school and prime ministerial campaigns, but wasn’t setting concrete plans for it.
“I like being here with you,” Damian finally responded, in a moment of uncharacteristic candor. But it was hard not to be honest, not when Anya was looking at him like that, with wide eyes and a slight smile. It was hard not to be honest when he can feel her warm breath on his forehead and he was close enough to smell her bubblegum-flavoured lip balm and the chocolate covered peanuts she had eaten a half-hour ago.
Damian expected a quip, a joke, a tease. That was how their dynamic works. When one of them got a little too real, the other dragged them out with humour or a well-timed jab. Instead, Anya nodded slowly. “I like being here with you.”
The world spun slowly on its axis. The frogs croaked and crickets chirped, a far off car honked its horn. The wind blew, slightly too cold to be bearable.
Damian leaned up, and brushed his lips against his companion’s. She inclined her head to return the favour. It's a soft, shy kiss, born from the little time they’ve had alone to do activities like this and the teenage anxieties normal in a new relationship.
The couple broke apart. Anya’s face was glowing blue from the keychain on her jacket and she looked otherworldly.
“Would you still love me if I was an alien?” Anya asked, a teasing glint in her eye.
“I take it back. Aliens are real and you are one,” Damian said, taking several steps back, away from her, allowing his face to remain in a soft smile rather than immediately putting up the walls his new girlfriend had spent so long trying to break down.
“Is that a yes?” Anya slipped down from the railing and bounded over to her boyfriend.
“Yeah, peanut brain,” Damian teased. He took Anya’s hands in his own, warming them against the cool breeze. “I love you even though you’re an alien.”
Anya beamed up at Damian and suddenly he couldn't feel the cold anymore.