Leather & Satin (The Bad Boy and the Ballerina) *EDITING*

Chapter 12: Ice Angel

"Brandon!" I scream excitedly as the video chat request comes blaring through my Mac Book Pro laptop. I click accept, and beam at my screen when I see his familiar face appear.

Brandon has been my best friend since before Pre-K—we've always been tight. Our families are super close, our dads work together. Brandon has always been loyal to me, he is the one person I can trust with my life who isn't related to me by blood. He's the guy who I could call at 3am crying, and he'd rush over and hold me and feed me ice cream to my heart's content. He was the one in the front row of every dance recital, every competition, every performance ever, with a single rose every show. I still had the very first one he ever gave me, dried and preserved, pressed in the pages of a photo album.

"There's my Sexy Lexi! Jesus Christ woman, everyone here thought you just left the face of the earth." He scowls at me. "You do have a well working phone, you know. And so do I, so there is no reason why you haven't been talking to me. International calling and texting, Lex."

I blow a gust of air out dramatically. "Sorry, Brandy Bear. Everything has just been so crazy here, you know? It just feels like one thing after another."

"I hear about the hotel thing. It was all over the news." His voice suddenly grows very agonized. "And...and I was watching the footage and...they showed you. I saw you getting wheeled to the ambulance-" his voice is shaky. I wondered how much that affected him, seeing me like that. As if he doesn't worry enough about me already...I swear, worrying about people is one of his hobbies

"I'm so sorry." I choke. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Are you okay?" He asks me, looking scared. I just really wanted to hug him and make all the worry on his face disappear. He had a nice face, my best friend. Short blonde hair, wide blue eyes, a killer smile. All the ladies are probably all over him, with me out of the picture. See, back home, I was sort of like Brandon's shield. As long as everybody knew how tight we were, the girls who liked him were either 1. Assuming we were together, though everybody knew Drew and I were a thing. 2. Too intimidated to approach him because of me or 3. too jealous of me to even imagine a relationship with Brandon. He's very lucky to have me around.

Behind him, his room looks the same. Fire truck red walls with clean lines and not a speck of dust in sight. I'd been in that room so many times. I'd fallen asleep on study dates that had run well past midnight on that bed. I'd cried into that square black pillow. I'd sprawled across that futon.

"I'm....good." I tell him. "It still hurts, but I mean, I'm better."

"Meet any boys yet?" He winks, dropping the subject like it's a scolding hot potato. Instantly, Nick comes to mind, but I push that thought away.

I groan into a pillow. "I'm living with two of them."

Brandon sighs. "I heard. You're mother told me. I'm so worried you're going to get molested."

I look up at him questioningly. "You've been taking to Mommy?"

He nods. "It's her and your aunt with the staff at that big house, she gets lonely. Besides, I don't mind going to visit, I've always been close with her."

"Yes, that is true." I murmur. "I miss her so much. I think I'm going to call her now, do you mind?"

Brandon shakes his head, looking dismayed. "You can't—I just got off the phone with her. She just went to bed."

I sigh. "Tomorrow, then. Anyways...I'm going downstairs to get lunch—I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Yeah." He nods. "You better text me, woman, or so help me god I will fly down there and shove that rejected phone right up your ass."