your body is a weapon → brad simpson | ✓

eight

I see Brad on Monday morning with a bruised eye and a cut on his lip. His entire outfit gave off a bad boy vibe—it consisted of a leather jacket and black trousers, plus a white shirt—and the injuries only made the entire vibe get pulled together.

I merely glance at him as he sits down next to me in social studies, before I turn away and look down at my notes that I had written.

"Jamie," he grabs my attention and I slowly look over. "When can we work on the project?"

"I can do it at lunchtime," I reply and he nods. We fall back into silence and the lesson goes by smoothly, despite Brad being sent out by flicking pencils across the room to distract the teacher.

The next couple of lessons go past fast and at the end of third period, I'm in a rush as I put my things in my bag to get to the library. I smile at my music teacher before catching up with Brad who was further ahead than me since he left the classroom without me.

"Hey," I say, brushing some hair behind my ear that had swept across my face. He merely looks down at me before looking straight ahead. I purse my lips, trying not to act offended that he completely blanked me.

We sit down at a table in the far corner of the library, Brad's choice, and we begin working straight away. He wanted to know how we were going to edit the video at the end and I told him I didn't entirely know how so he offered to do it.

Once we've finished a few questions between us, Brad recording them on his phone, we start packing away. He glances at me as I sling my bag over my shoulder.

"Why are you ignoring me at school?" He asks me before I get the chance to sit down. I look over to him nervously. I had really taken into account what Cherry had said.

"We're not filming, you don't need to talk to me now," I joke, but he rolls his eyes so I let out a sigh before readjusting the strap of my bag that rests on my shoulder. "I've been warned about you, I've heard the rumours."

"I thought better of you," He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. "I thought you wouldn't judge me based off of some rumours."

"You judged me off of my home," I retort, standing up to leave. I wanted to get some food before lunch finished and I have to go to class.

"It's not like it's something you've got to hide," he rolls his eyes. "You've got a big house, what's so bad about that?"

"Nothing is bad about it," I shrug. "But you just think I'm privileged because I have a big house, but you don't even know how I got it, the shit my dad and I went through before we got to where we are."

His eyes burn into me as I walk straight past him, our shoulders bumping against each other.

+

I arrive late home that afternoon since I stayed back after school to finish off some homework for music. When I open the door, I'm greeted with my dad shuffling around the kitchen.

I smile, since I hadn't seen him in over a week. I quickly sling my bag to the side and shove off my shoes before going into the kitchen.

He was sorting out boxes from the attic, something that he has wanted to do for a while now, but he hadn't gotten around to it until now because of work.

He looks over at me as I walk through the kitchen, and he sets down an ornament he was holding. "Hey, sweetheart. How was school?"

"It was fine," I smile, sliding myself on to a kitchen stool and watching him reseal the box he had just finished sorting out. "You took the day off of work today?"

"Yeah, I thought that I would since I've been at work for over a week straight now," he chuckles and lifts the box off of the kitchen island and puts it on the floor, stacking it upon the pile of boxes that he'd already finished sorting through.

There was a plastic bag, I assume full of old items and photos and clothes that he didn't want, by the side of the kitchen counter, ready for him to start dumping more old stuff into.

"Do you want some help?" I ask as he grabs his knife and cuts open the tape that's wrapped around the box.

"If you want," he smiles. "There's only two more boxes left and I think they're both full of old photos."

I smile, I hadn't taken a picture in a while. I wasn't a fan of social media and I didn't have anything worthwhile to take pictures of since I have no friends to hang out with.

I climb off of my seat and take a chunk of photos out of the box, looking through them.

"I just want the pictures of us, I'm throwing out all your mum's old stuff," he says and I nod at him. "I know I should've done it when we moved in, but I guess I had other priorities."

I look down at a picture of my dad holding me when I was five. One arm kept me at his waist comfortably while the other was over my mum's shoulder, holding her close. We were a happy family once upon a blue moon, and now neither of us talk to her.

I put the photo down on to the side, and gradually it grows up as I realise how many memories my dad and I had with my mum, most of them were long forgotten.

After an hour of photo searching, my dad says he's going to stop for a bit. He orders us some pizza and I go upstairs to shower and change into my pyjamas.

As I sit down on the sofa next to my dad who was watching the news, I can't help but sigh. I missed having a mum sometimes, I missed having a happy family, I missed having friends. It's been a while since I had any of that.

I focus on the news channel as a new story begins and I roll my eyes since it's another gang violence report.

"Now onto our next story," the woman behind the desk say. "There has been a significant rise in crime in Birmingham since the start of 2018. Last night in Sutton, twenty-three year old, Cameron Boothby, was shot and killed outside of the local diner, Den's Diner. The suspects behind the murder is assumed to be amongst the growing gang violence in Birmingham this year. We have our correspondent, Derek, at the scene now."

I look over to my dad, pulling my sleeves over my hands, "have you spoken to Den or Luna recently? We should make sure they're okay."

"Den rang me as soon as it happened," my dad says. "Everyone is fine, it happened across the street. Luna was a bit shaken up but otherwise she's fine."

"We should go and make sure they're okay," I say. "Not now, but soon. I'll send Luna a message."

"I'm sure we can go the next time I'm off of work," my dad nods. "But as far as I'm aware, you're not going to be going out late since that's happened. I don't want you getting hurt."

I nod respectively at my dad, knowing that I wouldn't be going out or getting myself into that kind of trouble any time soon.

[hi it's abby this is great y'all]

unedited.