apprehension / hemmings

(7) turn it off

A week after my graveyard date with Violet, I found myself in the passenger seat of Brandon's pickup truck, driving on a small street in the center of woods, as we had been traveling to Charleston.

"She went to hold my hand, and I pulled away."

"You clearly don't like her that much,"

"I do, she's a sweet girl, like, I did want to hold her hand," my head quickly snapped over to Brandon, and my body gyrated to face him. "I just didn't want to, if that makes sense."

"Um," Brandon glanced over to me quickly, before averting his attention back to the road. "It doesn't."

Sighing, I sat back up properly. Brandon turned the volume up slightly more as his favourite Blink 1-82 song played on the radio.

"I mean, I do like her. I'm just unsure as to whether or not I would even think of getting into another relationship." I made an attempt to explain.

"No, see, that's where you're wrong. Every relationship you have gotten yourself into has been disastrous, and got you into trouble. One of them almost got you tossing salad and taking sausage for 45 years." He hummed along with the song that played on the radio.

Immediately, I turned to face him once again. My eyes squinted, and I glared at him with shock.

"I would not be the tosser."

Brandon stared at me for a few moments. "Yes, you would."

"I fucking wouldn't, you wanker!" I laughed out loud, tossing my head back in clear amusement.

Brandon was my best friend. He has been since we were five, when I first moved to London. He was such a laugh, and knew everything there was to know about me. He could also tell who would be trouble in my life.

"Late night, come home, work sucks, I know." Brandon mumbled. I was sure he'd sang the lyrics wrong, but he didn't care.

"Violet is different, B. She's just.. She's a different girl. I don't want to date her, I want her to be my friend. My go-to. Part of her understands me, and part of her wants to know who I really am. I love that," a chuckle left my lips.

"You're just going to get yourself in trouble."

We reached a small café on the outskirts of Charleston about 45 minutes later. It was painted a dark gray colour, and it's title was no where to be seem but inside of the petite building.

Once inside, a sweetheart took Brandon and I's jackets and neatly hung them up. We were seated by the same black hà8ad only seconds later, and were handed a menu.

"What d'you think?" I felt green eyes on me, knowing that it had been Brandon referring to the waitress. "She wants you."

"She doesn't," I huffed in annoyance the him.

"Well, jeez." He muttered.

I lifted my head to face him as a small sigh left my lips. "It's just that, you assume every girl that looks at you wants to fuck you and that's usually not the case, some girls have heart."

He laughed. "Like Violet? You don't know her enough."

"Shut up."

"I bet you she won't give the 'fuck me' eyes to the next person who walks in." Brandon's thick eyebrows furrowed.

I was annoyed with him. He made me want to tear my lip ring right through the flesh of my lip, and spit my blood on him right now.

But the anger wasn't necessary, in fact, derived from a Netflix horror film.