𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙁𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 || EDDIE MUNSON

Deep Talks

BRANDY shook her leg anxiously, looking blankly at the woman in front of her. She knew she was going to hate this, but it was best in the end. Yet she stayed silent. The girl elected to look at the cheap grey carpet, the boring walls, and even the flickering light overhead instead. Her eyes would momentarily flicker to the older woman sitting only a few feet away, but not a moment later they would direct to something else.

"Brandy, need I remind you that you're the one who called me?" Ms. Kelley recalled. "I can only do so much if you don't talk to me."

"I know," Brandy droned. "I just don't really know where to start." the girl rubbed her collarbone in nervousness.

"Well, obviously we need to build trust in this relationship." The counselor told her. "Why don't you start with small things?" She suggested. "Things that annoyed you this week, maybe something good that happened if you don't feel comfortable doing that yet."

Brandy sat silent for a moment, trying to think of a way to word herself. "My mom started going to church again," She finally said.

"That's nice," Ms. Kelley said before seeing the look upon her face. "Or it isn't?"

"She hasn't gone to church since my dad passed," Brandy rubbed at her arm. "And now she's going with I guess her new boyfriend." Brandy huffed, throwing her hands in the air lightly.

"You guess?" Ms. Kelley prompted.

"I've only met the guy a couple of times," Brandy stated. "Neighborhood functions, talking in passing while I'm taking out the trash, and apparently in my kitchen while he and my mom drink beer."

"I can understand why that would be difficult after seeing your mom single for so many years," Ms. Kelley nodded her head in a kindly fashion, she picked up her pen, quickly writing something in a file that sat idly on her desk. "But do you think you should give him a chance? Maybe he has no ill will."

Brandy didn't respond. Instead, she looked vacantly at the floor. "I should get to class." Brandy quickly muttered, grabbing her things before standing.

"You don't always hear what you want to hear in therapy, Brandy." Brandy's hand hovered over the metal door handle, she turned her head over her shoulder, her brown eyes boring to Ms. Kelley's equally dark one.

"Thank you for the session." Brandy said in a nearly emotionless tone, yet her voice was meek and quiet. She virtually ripped the door open, ready to leave the room. There was a heat in her chest, uncomfortable and stuffy, it spiraled and drilled into her gut. Nervousness had consumed her. The thought of somebody taking her dad's place in her mother's life. It was enough to make her ring her hands together and cause her breathing to hitch. The mental image of Mr. Matthews sitting at her dad's spot, at the table they hadn't eaten at in five years.

She walked to her locker, her gaze hazy from stress. Her breathing was short and shallow, so much so that it made her fingertips tingle and her crown lightheaded. She fumbled to open her locker, her hands shaking as she grabbed her books. Brandy jumped as a hand slammed into the locker beside her, a paper trapped under it. Her breathing shortly returned to normal, the small rush of adrenaline seeming to reboot her momentarily.

Her face turned to look at no one other than Eddie Munson, his face full of giddy excitement. Brandy tried her true best to mask the panic on her face, looking at the taller boy standing next to her.

"You look... Unwell." His face fell lax as he raised an eyebrow at the shorter teen. His head training downwards, his expression full of suspicion.

"What?" She shook her head, like it would jumble her thoughts back together.