Graveyard Blues [Brallon]

Photographs

[the only good chapter is the last one and that's the tea]

Brendon and I pay for a ticket to fly Hayley out to see us. She finished her finals and she's free for a couple of weeks, and she begged to spend at least one of them with us. She's lucky Taylor funded her hotel room too, even if it's only for a few of the days.

He headed out an hour ago to go pick her up from the airport, and both Pete and Taylor wait with me patiently in my room, on my bed, eating my snacks, sifting through the photo album Brendon insisted on bringing because it's heavy and he can effectively smack me with it if I snore too loud.

"Aww," Taylor coos, "look at you guys on the swings together! You were so little and cute, I want to squish your chubby little cheeks. I can't believe you've known each other for so long."

"We were in kindergarten." I know exactly what picture she's talking about. It's framed and mounted on the wall back home. "The teacher took that one."

Pete points to one in the corner. "I like this one. It has a dog in it. It is a little blurry though."

"That's Brendon in second grade with his dog. It's blurry because I took it."

Taylor looks like she's on the verge of tears as she continues to flip through the pages of the album. "You have them memorized?! That's the cutest thing I've ever heard in my entire life!"

I memorized them because it's a humanizing factor, not because I wanted to. I thought it was stupid, but I did it so Brendon would quit harping on me to do it. I remember his family was coming over the next week, but I don't recall what followed afterwards. It must've been good.

"I guess." I say and Taylor is immediately confused, and she goes to ask why, and I cut her off. "Do you have any photos with your boyfriend?"

"They're all on my social media. I'd have more, but I got a new phone and I didn't transfer all the pictures and whatnot, and I also didn't bring my Polaroids."

I don't look at her social media. I don't care about it in the slightest. "Oh. Cool."

She and Pete share an odd look. They're glancing at each other to ensure the conciseness of everything I say is normal and not imaginary.

"Are you okay?" Pete asks. His voice drops volume significantly.

I turn to face them both and the immediately direct their attention to the nearest thing in reach. "I am fine. Why does everyone always ask me that?"

"Because you sound like Dallas Parsons after he's brought back to life as a zombie, you emotionless twat."

Josh and Tyler said they picked us to play the parts because of our striking resemblance to their characters. I understand now.

Before I can fire back anything, the door swings open and Hayley curls up on the bed without saying a word. Brendon stumbles in behind her with two suitcases and a very large and overstuffed backpack hanging off his shoulder.

He drops everything in one pile and collapses to the floor beside them. "When I pack for a week, I bring one suitcase, and that holds everything."

Taylor sits up on her elbows and watches Hayley bury herself underneath the pillows. She looks at her like Brendon looks at me, which I don't understand but I can recognize. "I have three suitcases."

Pete stays quiet. He stares at the ugly pattern on the blankets and picks at the seams between the patches sewn to hold it together. I want nothing more but to burn it and toss it out the window with a body bag, and I don't want things very often.