𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑫 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑺

[ CHAPTER SIX ]

[ F A Ç A D E S ]

⟡

Unsurprisingly, Tasha got detention for the next three days. Upon receiving the news, Tasha rolled her eyes and shook her head. However, when Wilson stated that Brandon would miss football practice for the rest of the week spending Tasha's detention time with her studying, the drop in Brandon's expression made Tasha let out the most unabashed cackle.

Once Wilson dismissed them, Brandon stormed out with Tasha hot on his heels. When the two reached the hallway, Brandon swung around to come face to face with Tasha, his face growing red in color. "Do you understand how crucial it is to miss three days of fuckin' football practice? It's like falling asleep for an entire year!" Brandon rants, only getting angrier as he watched Tasha try her best not to laugh.

"Look superstar, I don't care if you miss the entire season. Your worries and problems sound like crap next to people who actually have important stuff to worry about, so build yourself a bridge and get over it!" Tasha snaps before sauntering past him.

She was halfway up the west staircase when she heard his voice close behind her. "And what do you have to worry about, huh?" His tone was curt and slightly hostile, which was enough to offend Tasha that she turned around to meet his eyes again.

"Getting shot by cops because I'm black, getting raped or molested because I show some skin, not being taken seriously or getting anywhere high in this corrupted and white male dominated society because I'm black and I'mma female—should I keep goin' or are you catchin' my drift?"

Tasha didn't back away in fear when Brandon marched up the staircase to get in her face again. "Aside from all'a that, I mean. What do you really have to look forward to besides staying alive? Who's pressuring you to be great and perfect all the time? Who's expecting you to put your all into something that you used to love but don't anymore because it comes with too much responsibility and pressure?"

Tasha had several responses to all of those questions but figured that Brandon was crossing into more personal territories so she decided to stay quiet.

Brandon shut his eyes and let out a large sigh, taking a big step away from Tasha. "It's whatever, these three days'll just fly right by anyway." Brandon doesn't spare her another glance before he walks off, his sadness hanging like a dark cloud around his shoulders. Tasha watches him leave for a moment before she walks off too, trying to shake off her pity.

⟡

After dismissal, Brenda hurried after her twin in the parking lot, taking large breaths once they both reached Brandon's ride. "Jeez, are you deaf? I've been yelling your name and chasing after y—" Brenda notices the defeated look on Brandon's face and frowns. "What happened?"

Brandon shrugs. "Nothing. Whaddya want? Aren't you supposed to be at cheerleading practice or something?" The boy murmurs, nodding towards the bright uniform Brenda was wearing.

"Well yeah, but I forgot my hair pins and lipgloss in the car." Brandon promptly unlocked the car doors so his sister could grab her things. Brandon settled into the driver's seat and was about to shut his side of the door until Brenda stood in the way.

"Why aren't you on the field with the other guys?"

Brandon let out a sigh, looking away from his sister. "I got suspended from practice, alright?"

Brenda's eyes widen. "What, why?"

Brenda's confused expression suddenly changes into one of realization. "Does it have anything to do with what happened at lunch? I wasn't there but I heard about it."

"I don't wanna talk about it no more, it's over and done with. Now move."

Brenda reluctantly steps out of Brandon's way; Brandon shuts the car door before pulling out the lot.

⟡

Brandon quietly entered his home twenty minutes later. After locking the front door behind him, he swiftly made his way towards the stairs.

If his heart wasn't pounding loudly before, it definitely was when he heard his father's voice. "Your principal called."

Brandon froze in his steps, his mouth going completely dry. Mr. Walsh comes out of the kitchen and automatically scrutinizes his son.

"Motherfucker said you got suspended from practice, is that right?"

Brandon surveyed his father's intoxicated body language along with the bottle of beer in his hand, thinking to himself that that bottle couldn't have been his father's first one. He was drunk.

So lost in his thoughts, Brandon did not notice that his father had grown furious. Mr. Walsh impulsively throws the bottle towards Brandon's head.

Brandon ducks his head in reflex before the bottle smashed into the wall and shattered, one of the glass pieces wedging itself deep in the skin of Brandon's left palm.

The blue-eyed boy immediately howls in pain, shaking his left hand as if it was on fire, but Mr. Walsh paid no mind to this. The older man drunkenly stumbled his way towards his son with the intention of beating the living daylights out of him.

Brandon dashed up the stairs to his room, slamming the door in his father's face and locking it in defense.  His father repeatedly slammed his fists against the door and began yelling the most degrading things towards his child.

"You fuckin' faggot! Open the door, you fucking worthless piece of shit! Your mother must've given birth to two fucking girls 'cause a real man would've opened the door and taken his fucking punishment! You got fucking suspended from the one thing I was proud of you for; the ONE thing! OPEN THE DOOR BEFORE I KICK IT DOWN AND BEAT YOUR ASS!" 

His father kept going on and on, unaware that Brandon had long packed up the things he needed and escaped from his window, taking his car and driving as fast as he could to Dylan's house with a bloodied fist.