Deathly

seven

SEPTEMBER

Friday passed boringly. I didn't see Brandon while he was at my house after the fight. I heard his drums and I heard the laughter. He left close to 4 in the morning, I heard his car.

I was mad and sad. Embarrassed, but I didn't like to admit that. Weeks past. The same thing happened. I went to school, ate dinner, and on some days, Brandon would come over late, like he always did, and played the drums. Mostly when they had practice, but sometimes he would come on his own and watch movies with my Dad.

When Brandon did come, band practice or not, I tried my hardest not to look at him. I ignored his furious looks, and I left the room as soon as he entered. It was just like before the kiss. He glared at me and stayed as far away as he could. Dad never noticed. Brandon hadn't come to pick me up again either. For a couple days, I got anxious leaving the school, I thought he would be outside. But he wasn't. And most days, neither was my dad. I walked home, because Opal had gotten back with her ex boyfriend, and I did not want to ride in his car ever again. 

Close to the end of September, Dad had picked me up from school, the first time that week. I tried not to hold it against him for forgetting and leaving me to wonder is he was going to pick me up most days, but he was always busy playing music with Brandon to remember to get me.

When we got at the end of my street, cars in my drive way caught my attention. Four of them. Brandon's, like usual, was sitting in the same spot it always was.. Jimmy and Alex's two cars as well. But the last one was parked on the street and it was small and white.

Amy.

Seeing her car left a sour taste in my mouth. I had just begun to notice it, but lately just like Brandon, she had begun to hate me. She came over more and more, and she never smiled. In fact, she looked at me with more than a straight face. She frowned at me. It was embarrassing, and my cheeks got red every time I noticed she didn't want me there.

Brandon had too.

He stared at my red cheeks more than my eyes. Something in the back of my mind told me Brandon told her about every little thing I did to piss him off, and then she began to judge me as well.

Walking through the open garage door, I tried to ignore every one, but Jimmy asked me how school was. "It was good!" I smiled at him. I loved my uncle, he was funny and good at making music. He always asked me how my day was when he saw me. But today he didn't hear me say anything because once I opened my mouth Brandon called him over loudly after he had noticed I was speaking. I sighed before I went through the kitchen door and up the stairs.

Their music woke me up at eight. I sat up quickly in my bed, my uniform shirt was crinkled and my socks were halfway up one leg and down the other. I hadn't even noticed I fell asleep. Someone yelled from the stairs, "Blue, Dinner!!" I groggily wiped my face with my hand and got up. I didn't care about changing or how I looked. I got out of bed and tripped over my own feet trying to get my socks off. When I got down stairs, I noticed no one had gone home. Great, they're all eating dinner here. I normally wouldn't care, but that mean't Brandon and Amy would be too. The band normally skipped dinner while practicing or just eating before they came over, so a dinner party rarely happened.

I stepped into the kitchen and made a dramatic sigh noise, and everyone looked at me. They all laughed, except for two people, and Amy didn't even look up from her phone. "Nice hair." Dad laughed. I confusedly brushed it down with my fingers and felt it was going in all directions. I tried not to laugh and rolled my eyes.