Superficial (DE)

Forty.

Brandon sat slouched back in his seat, hands rested on both armrests lazily as he stared at the corner of the other side of the room in front of him, blankly. His father coughed, bringing him to fruition and prompting him to look over and make sure he was okay. They both sat quietly, watching football. Brandon had been there since last night. He drove right to the private hospice facility and slept on the couch in his fathers room.

The couch was hard and it made his back hurt because of his height, his legs hung over the other end if he laid straight, or he had to sleep practically in the fetal position. Either way, they still hurt. But this was the only safe place he could go. All the other important people in his life, the women, had both lost their damn minds, his mother and his girlfriend.

Brandon still talked to his mother, but less. She'd changed through course of Karl's illness, understandably so. But it had gotten to a point where Brandon had grown tired of taking the brunt of her manic behavior.

Brandon hardly slept that night anyways, the inside of his brain was like a mad house. It just kept replaying and replaying the last thing Cerise said to him— she's pregnant. Just a few days ago the idea didn't sound bad, he actually even silently wanted it to happen. He could see himself being with Cerise for the rest of his life and meaning it. What straight man wouldn't? She's beautiful and witty, frighteningly intelligent, a literal pleasant surprise. She's driven, and kind, polite, and classy and graceful and he could go on, but his anger was getting the best of him.

He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his tattooed hands. The older he got the more he realized just how much he needed his father. Young children often take their parents for granted only because they don't understand, but he understands now.

Brandon clenched his jaw feeling his eyes begin to water and burn, turning red. Angry and seething. He sat up again, looking over at his dad as he stared at the television blankly. He stared at him like this for a few seconds though it felt like a few minutes, trying to imagine how this conversation would go, what Karl would say to his only son, his only child. Brandon nodded his head meekly in affirmative after a moment. He didn't need to know what his father would say because he already knew what he'd do— be a man and be there for his child.

Cerise and Asante sat cuddled on Asante's couch under a random fleece blanket watching Baddies together only Cerise was half paying attention. Her anxiety had grown so bad from last night she'd gone numb, cold. After she left she'd shown up at Asante's door with no warning. Asante's was the only safe place she could go. She was the only person that knew the truth, atleast some of it. But now, she knew all of it.

But like a true bestfriend should, she didn't care what happened, she just wanted to be there for Cerise. Asante cleaned her up just like the time she'd done it before and put her in some pajamas and they stayed up all night, just them together. They laid beside one another on the plush couch, and Asante stayed up until Cerise fell asleep, and when Cerise fell asleep Asante finally went to sleep too.

Cerise dipped her hand into the cold TruFru bag, pulling out a bite sized frozen strawberry dipped in chocolate. It was the only thing she could keep down but she wasn't complaining because they were like sex in your mouth. She missed sex in her mouth.

Focus Cerise.

"I'm pregnant," Cerise blurted in dismay, thinking out loud as she stared blankly at the TV.

Asante let out a long exhaled before sitting up and looking at Cerise. "I know you don't want to talk about this right now but this is one thing we can't just ignore, for both of your health," Asante said softly, looking at the piece of blanket that covered Cerise's midsection.