your body is a weapon → brad simpson | ✓

twenty eight

On Monday, Brad arrived early at my house. By early, I mean he was there before I even woke up.

He rang my doorbell which woke me up since he was persistent on ringing it until someone answered, and my dad wasn't going to be back home for another couple of days.

I groan, lifting my bedsheets off of my body and go to answer the door. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd come and wake you up for school," he says and I look at the clock on my wall as I close the door behind him. It's half past six in the morning, I should be asleep for another half an hour.

"You really didn't have to," I mumble sarcastically, rubbing my eyes to help wake myself up. A yawn escapes my lips as I walk to the kitchen to make myself a drink and wake myself up.

Brad sits at my kitchen island as we talk for a bit. Yesterday, he had spent his time at the tracks making bets since he couldn't compete. He explains to me that you have to win a race on Saturday to qualify for a chance to win the fifty grand on Sunday.

"Do you wanna go get dressed while I make us some breakfast?" Brad suggests and I nod, looking at the time. We had been talking for an hour and we had half an hour before we needed to leave.

I change into some clothes for the day, brushing through my hair and straightening it. Brad brought up two plates of bacon sandwiches and puts one on my desk that I sat at before sitting on the edge of my bed to eat his.

"I didn't think you could cook," I admit, looking over to him.

"Bacon sandwiches aren't difficult, to be honest," he shrugs. "I can also make scrambled eggs, and I can make toast."

"I'll keep that in mind for when you get a girlfriend," I say. "I'll be like, 'did you know Brad can't cook anything other than bacon sandwiches, egg and toast?'"

"She'll fall even more in love with me and my select range of meals."

I laugh and finish doing my hair before I eat my sandwich. Once I'm ready, Brad and I set off for school, listening to one of Brad's favourite bands, the Foo Fighters.

When we arrive, Brad and I don't see each other until social studies, where Miss Collins hands out some revision work for us to do, explaining that we have a test tomorrow. Of course, Brad dismisses the sheet and turns to me instead.

"I've got to leave at break," he tells me. "Only for a couple of hours so I'll be back to pick you up and spend lunch with you. I thought you should know in case you worry about where I am."

"How come you're leaving?"

"My boss called me and said that he wanted to hold a meeting," he shrugs nervously. "There's gonna be about ten people there, so it won't be busy which means it'll end quickly."

I tilt my head slightly. "How come you're one of the ten going?" I was curious and slightly nosy, but mostly curious.

"I'm part of the inner gang," he mumbles out and I raised my eyebrows. That made sense that he would get called in. "It means I'm an important figure when it comes to the gang, I guess."

"It's interesting," I say. "You get to know the inside gossip, know all the secrets. Is that why you're always asked to. . . kill those people?"

He nods before the teacher throws us a warning glare. Brad rolls his eyes and I quickly look down at my sheet.

+

As lunch started and Brad wasn't back yet, I didn't really know where to go. Now that I have a secure feeling of having someone to be with all of the time, it felt strange being alone again. I didn't like it anymore.