"There's gotta be an upside to this upside down shit,"
"Yeah, from a psycho's perspective."
Brandy Mullins truly thought her past was a nightmare. Not some figuratively speaking awful event, but actual bad dreams, and the tattoo on her wrist just ha...
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───── ❝ Come in, Sandy ❞ ───── ☆
Sandra yells for Brandy from the other side of the bathroom door. As Brandy stands by it, she can feel the steam from the shower pooling out from under the door. "What did the cops want?" Sandra asks.
Brandy huffs as she turns her back to the door. "They wanted to know if I had anything to do with Will's disappearance." She explains dully. "Obviously I didn't."
"Why'd they think that?"
"Because my jacket was by his bike. Must've fallen out when I threw my shoes in the trunk."
Brandy steps aside from the door as the handle wiggles, and sure enough Sandra is in its way, her hair wrapped up in a towel and herself covered by a robe. "That's it?"
"That's it." Brandy confirms. She crosses the room, sitting down on her bed. "And I was able to spare the whole 'speeding' part of last night when I talked to the cops. You're welcome."
Sandra gives her a sly smile before flopping her head over, the towel gliding right off. "Thank you," She spitely comments before rubbing her hair with her towel, roughly circling it around her head.
"You think the police will interrogate you guys?"
"You mentioned us!" Sandra exclaims, her eyes the size of tennis balls. "Why?"
"I'm not gonna lie to the cops!" Brandy rushes, her arms flying out to the side with the exasperated expression.
"You could've just 'spared' our names."
Brandy's arms flop down on the bed as her face falls flat."I didn't think it'd be that bad. Why are you even worried? They got all of their answers from me."
"But now the cops have my name," Sandra expresses, grabbing pajamas out of the dresser before heading into the bathroom. From Brandy's knowledge, she's going about her nightly routine; brushing out her hair, her teeth, and changing into her pajamas. "I don't want my name associated with a boy's disappearance, Brandy! What's so bad about that, huh?"
"What's worse is that I was actually questioned because you dared me to zoom, and you never clean out the trunk."
"It was your jacket," Sandra sasses from behind the closed door.
"-that you wore to the football game last week." Brandy completes Sandra's sentence since she wanted to spare certain details.
"Fine. I'm sorry, okay. What else do you want me to say?"
Brandy shrugs. There was no begging-on-your-knees apology due, and overall, their bickering is pointless.
