The New Romantics

Chapter Six: Speak Now

I let the boys have five minutes of trash talking and beating up Branden. Well- seven. It took a while for 5'5" me to get the two much larger guys away from the bloody mess of what you could call my ex-boyfriend. Especially while wearing a dress.

That other peeron who took over my functioning skills earlier reappeared as I continued to figure things out. "Good job guys," I said, still out of breath from wrestling them off, "You can go sit back down if you'd like." Neither one of them moved. Alex almost took my offer- even leaned away from us- but I think he stayed just in case her got to hit someone again. I will never understand his love for violence.

"Alright then," I clapped my hands once and turned to Branden- beaten, battered, bloody, bruised Branden. (Try saying that five times fast.) "Branden, dear," I loved sarcastically calling people cute pet names. It was unbelievably satisfying. "You have two options. One," I held up my finger, just for the heck of it, "You can leave, never come back, and find another girl to be your cuddle buddy. Alex could probably help you with that." I smiled a little at Alex, but he didn't seem to find that very amusing. Oops.

I held up a second finger and continued my list. "Or, you can stay here. If you choose the second one, I'll let my brother get back to what he was doing, while Benjamin and I get going on our date." Alex cracked his knuckles and grinned-a strange but default setting for him. Benjamin stood silently behind me- on his toes- ready to pounce, despite what I said about us getting on our date.

I bent down so I could whisper something to Branden. "I'd choose quickly."

As Branden thought not-so-quickly, I stood back up and thought of what just happened. I felt like the Queen of Baker Street with two strong and faithful- not to mention loving- body guards by my side.

It took him five stupid minutes for him to decide. I'm not exaggerating. We were tapping our feet in unison and major annoyance.

I bet you won't believe what the little fart chose.

Yeah, neither did I.