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

033

"Yeah, maybe." Brandon shrugged.

"You have a temper, that's why." Sunday grunted a little as she struggled to keep hold of the wide canvas in her arms, "You should consider anger management."

"I got it," Brandon took the canvas and then scrunched his eyebrows at her, "Ma, I don't have a temper."

"Thanks, and you cursed out a woman that you didn't know, not even three days ago." Sunday pointed out as the duo exited the dorm, "But you don't have a slight temper? Right."

The wind was brutal and caused Sunday to zip up her black North Face jacket.

"Your ex's mom doesn't count. She was trying the both of us." The duo continued onto the sidewalk that led to the Wildcat Lodge on the other side of campus.

"Whitney is..." Sunday searched mentally for the right word to describe Zion's mother.

"Weird. The word you're looking for is weird." Brandon replied.

Sunday snickered a little.

On the left side of the sidewalk was a pretty black girl with skin a little deeper than Sunday's and long box braids that dropped to her waist.

She made her interest known, loud and proud, staring Brandon down and then smiling.

Sunday had the strangest, most sudden and deep urge to claim Brandon, right then and there.

To lace her hand through his free one and let that girl know that this one less guy that she could have.

Sunday could see Brandon look back at the girl and reminded herself that he wasn't hers and that he could look back at girls without her getting mad.

The last thing that Sunday could afford was another heartbreak so soon after her first one.

So instead of asking why he had turned around in the first place, she forced a smile, "Okay."

Brandon shook his head at how long Sunday had dragged out the word, "She's not my type."

"You have a type?"

Brandon looked down at her, "Is that so hard to believe?"

"I mean... Kinda. Crazy and tall." Sunday referred to Brandon's ex girlfriend.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. In my defense, she wasn't like that when we were together. I don't pick the insane ones on purpose."

Sunday chortled, "You sure?"

Brandon rolled his eyes, "Yes. I'm sure. Everyone has a type even if they don't want to admit to themselves."

"I don't have a type. At least, I don't think I do. What's yours?" Sunday stopped in front of Brandon so she could look up at him.

"My type?" Brandon asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," Sunday said in a 'duh' tone.

"Um, well, you were half right. Tall, and besides that, I don't know." Brandon said.

"Yes, you do. Come on," Sunday nudged him in his ribs a little.

"She has nice-." Brandon began.

"Not physical! God, you're such a boy sometimes." Sunday shook her head.

"Okay, let me think," Brandon tilted his head up to the sky, letting Sunday have a good view of his Adam's apple.

"She's patient, ambitious, has her own goals... Being smart wouldn't hurt. Kind, honest...  Um, I don't know what else, ma."

Sunday nodded approvingly at the traits Brandon had listed and began to start walking when Brandon gripped her hand, "Wait, ma. You didn't tell me yours."

Sunday chuckled, "That's you. I've never taken the time to think about it."

"Just list things you like in a guy. C'mon, I did it." Brandon prodded her verbally.

"Um..." Sunday paused to consider, "Well, I wouldn't mind someone who was a romantic, hardworking, loyal..."

Brandon was eyeing her with an expression that Sunday couldn't place but it left her feeling a little nervous.

Sunday trailed off then laughed a little, nervously, "I don't know. I haven't thought about it much, or at all actually."

Brandon tucked both of his lips in for a second and Sunday could feel her nerves get a little stronger under his gaze until she had to look away and down at her shoes, "Um, you should go and talk to her. That was the point I was trying to make."

"Don't want to, ma." Brandon said in a low tone, his face unchanged.

Sunday blinked a couple of times then looked around at their environment before hooking her arm around his, "C'mon. We're blocking up the sidewalk."

Sunday tried to slow her racing heart as she walked.

We're just friends.

We're just friends.

We're just friends.

NOTE FROM KY
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