B.U.D.D.Y | b. boston jr #LLTC

032

The door opened causing the wind chimes placed nearby to sound off and for the two to look up.

It was a well dressed black woman who looked to be in her late thirties, early forties, in a black turtleneck, gold jewelry and waves gelled into her short black curly hair.

Sunday let out a yelp that was only audible to Brandon and he could feel her grip his arm tight, "Oh my God. B.J, hide me."

"What? Why?" Brandon was a little confused.

"Stop asking questions. Just hide me." Sunday buried her face in his Champion hoodie, sliding as close as she could to him.

"Who is that?" Brandon asked.

Sunday lifted her head a little and opened her mouth to answer his question but before she could...

"Sunday? Sunday, is that you?" The woman left the line for ordering to approach the table.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Sunday whispered in a quick succession then she turned away from Brandon, "Hi, Mrs. Gordon."

"Oh, I've told you before to call me Whitney. How have you been? It's been awhile." The woman's eyes fell on Brandon for a second.

"Yeah, it has." Sunday's voice wavered and under the table, Brandon laced their hands together and squeezed for reassurance.

"Zion didn't tell me you were gonna be in town this weekend, he could've come home too." The woman said.

Brandon furrowed his eyebrows at the name of Sunday's ex boyfriend but said nothing.

"Um... Whitney," Sunday paused, "You know that me and Zion aren't together anymore right?"

The woman simply stared at Sunday, "I don't understand."

"Your son dumped her on some bullshit, what's not to understand?" Brandon muttered then took Sunday's empty soda cup, lifted the lid and sifted some ice cubes into his mouth.

When both Sunday and Whitney looked at him, Brandon realized that he had uttered that way louder than he had meant to.

Unfazed, Brandon shrugged and continued to pour ice into his mouth.

"He broke up with you?" Her tone was a little shrill.

Sunday pursed her lips, "My dad told me that you might not know but I figured by this point you might've figured it out... You really didn't know? At all?"

Whitney let out a big sigh, "No. I didn't. I'm very sorry to hear that."

Her eyes fell on Brandon once more, "What's your name, young man?"

"B.J." Brandon replied in a casual tone.

"And you're from Louisville too?"

"Nah. Atlanta."

Whitney turned back to Sunday, "I didn't think you were the type of girl."

Brandon immediately straightened up at the shady comment.

Sunday squeezed his hand again, "To do what?"

"Move on so fast," Whitney stared at Brandon, then flickered her narrowed eyes over him, a look of disgust on her face.

With any other girl, Brandon would've already stood up and told the woman to fuck off but since Sunday was known for hating attention and drama, he chose to recline a little, wrap his arm around Sunday's waist protectively and continue to chew ice from her cup.

"Well, your son has moved on too. So... I don't really understand the comment. With all due respect." Sunday said.

"Moved on?" Whitney scoffed, "He talks about you all the time. The only now who's moved on is you. And I thought it would at least be with someone better than my son, not worse," She gave Brandon the same expression from earlier.

Brandon had had enough, "Aight bitch, listen you don't know me so don't start wit-."

Whitney let out a cackle, "Mhmm. Sure, whatever."

Then she turned and walked out out of the restaurant.

"Isn't she such a joy?" Sunday said in a sarcastic tone.

"What was that about? He really didn't tell her?"

"I guess not. I don't know what he got out of not telling her. Especially when it was his decision," Sunday turned to Brandon, "You shouldn't have called her a bitch though. She's gonna remember that and she's gonna tell Zion and... How you would feel about someone calling your mom a bitch?"

Brandon snorted, "Ma, I am not scared of that nigga."

"B.J, you are my best friend and I care about you a lot but let's not pretend that you don't remind everyone of a string bean." Sunday patted his knee.

Brandon rolled his eyes but his mind was stuck on a phrase in her sentence.

Best friend.

Best friend.

Best friend.

Maybe it was time to start moving towards something more.

NOTE FROM KY
I changed Sunday's face claim so if you haven't yet, go look!
vote & comment, porfa!