your body is a weapon → brad simpson | ✓

eleven

"Are you recording me?" I ask as Brad tries to discreetly film me on his phone.

"No," he shakes his head, his curls bouncing against his temple. "I'm reading the newspaper, actually."

I laugh, rolling my eyes and turning my head down to look at the questions. We were trying to finish our project still, since we still had a week left to hand it in.

Over the past couple of weeks, Brad and I had been getting along fine. Neither of us went out of our ways to talk to each other but when we did converse, it was actually quite enjoyable since Brad is a funny guy.

Brad was also very reserved; he kept secrets to himself. I didn't expect him to tell me everything because we weren't technically or officially friends. But I was curious why every Monday he'd come into school, sporting a new bruise on his eye or a new cut on his cheek. What fight did you get into today? I would always ask myself, as though I'm talking to him.

"Are you sure you've asked all the questions you wrote down?" I ask and Brad shrugs, putting his phone down after he'd stopped recording.

He pulls out the plastic wallet that had his question sheets in—I'd given it to him since he ruined his first sheet by dropping it in a puddle by accident.

"I've got a couple of questions left," he says, grabbing his phone again. "Have you finished yours?"

"Yeah," I nod at him before putting the sheets of paper that are sprawled across the booth in Den's Diner away.

"I'm recording," he lets me know and I smile as he lifts his phone up so that it's facing me. "What single event has had the biggest impact on who you are?"

I raise my eyebrows, surprised at the thoughtful question. Most of his were asking how big my bra size is or how much money my dad earns. Of course, I didn't answer those questions because it was none of his business.

Thinking, I toss between losing my mum and losing Aiden. I haven't lost many people in my life but after those two had left, I feel like my life changed dramatically.

"Probably losing my best friend," I admit. "Or losing my mum, though she was always horrible to me anyway. But when my best friend left without saying goodbye, I was not only lonely but really upset. It changed my mindset, made me chase different goals and adapt to this new change. Sometimes I wish he was still here, sometimes I'm glad I've had an opportunity to grow."

Brad is impressed with my thoughtful answer, "so, that's why you're lonely all the time? Because your friend left you?"

"Yeah," I smile sadly at him and he frowns slightly. "He was great, he was my rock."

Brad stops recording and puts the camera down, running his hands through his hair. Brad often bragged about being attractive and said he could get any girl he wanted and I didn't doubt that.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that," he says sympathetically and I sigh. I hated when people apologised for things that aren't their fault.

"Is that your question or do you have one more?" I ask, changing the topic but he scrunches up the piece of paper.

"You answered my other question in that answer," he says. "So, we're done with the project?"

"Yeah," I nod, taking a sip of the peppermint tea I had ordered myself. We'd been here for an hour and it was pretty much cold now. "It was nice getting to know you, though."

"You too," he smiles. I notice he has a small dimple in his cheeks when he smiles. It was a shame that we'd probably go back to not talking, not even being as friendly as we are now, since the project has finished.

I begin packing my things away, not leaving yet but just getting myself ready. My dad was going to pick me up on the way home from work, and Brad had to leave soon anyway. He didn't tell me why.

"Actually, can I ask you another question?" He says and I look over to him, nodding with a small smile. "There's a party tomorrow night at a frat party and I'm going to meet some friends. Do you wanna come with me?"

Surprised he asked me to go, I purse my lips. I wasn't used to people asking me to go to parties so much, even though it was my second one in a month.

"I'll have to ask my dad," I say. "But I'll let you know tomorrow."

He smiles, tilting his head slightly, "it would be nice if you could come. Maybe you'll meet some new friends there."

I nod, looking down at my lap. I didn't particularly want to go since last time I almost got into an argument with someone—well, I technically did.

When my dad arrives, I say goodbye to Brad as we walk out together. He gets in his car while I climb into my dad's.

"Who was he?" My dad asks as he starts reversing out of the parking space. I glance over to Brad's black BMW that was already driving down the road. Brad was a good driver.

"His name's Brad, we were working on the social studies project together," I reply, looking out of the window.

My dad wasn't overprotective over me when it came to boys, he was overprotective in general. He was the one who helped me get better after Aiden had left, and he knew how broken I was to lose my best friend. My dad didn't want me to go through that again.

"Is he nice?"

"I suppose," I say. "He's funny, he has your sense of humour."

"Ah, so a good sense of humour?" My dad asks with a small smile on his face. "You better tell me if he's ever rude to you, I'm sure I can have a word or two with him."

I laugh halfheartedly. "I will, dad, don't worry."

We drive with the crackling from the radio disrupting whatever pop song was playing on the radio as rain splashed along the windowscreen.

"What do you want to do for your birthday?" my dad asks as we get inside of our house half an hour later. "A party? Going our for dinner? Staying in and watching movies?"

"Probably the latter," I smile at my dad as I dump my bag on to the floor. I follow my dad into the kitchen, watching him get different things out of the cupboard to make dinner.

My dad knew I wasn't one to host a party and I didn't like going out for dinner because they'd sing happy birthday and I'd get really embarrassed.

"Speaking of parties," I say, pulling myself onto the kitchen island. "I've been asked to go to one tomorrow night but I'm not sure if I'm gonna go."

My dad turns to face me. He was surprised I'd been asked to go to a party. "Who asked you?"

"Brad."

"Okay," he says slowly. "Well, I don't see why you shouldn't go. You could make some new friends, live a typical teenage life."

"You think I should go?"

"Yes," he nods. "You're almost eighteen, why shouldn't you be going to parties and getting drunk so that I can tell you off when you get home?"

I smile at him. "I'm not gonna get drunk at the party, don't worry."

"I know, I trust you," he replies before grabbing some more food out of the cupboard. "But yes, I think you should go and enjoy yourself."

I leave the room so my dad can cook dinner in peace and I'm slightly excited but mostly nervous about tomorrow night.

edited.

[wow I changed that this time love u jess]