Watercolors (B.A.)

Chapter Nine

Cézanne

Zane was always dramatic; Amina knew that. Even still, there were times she didn't understand her best friend. Why Zane felt the need to text her but then refused to talk to her until she could see her the next day was one of those things she wouldn't ever get.

Zane lounged around Amina's living room, hair up in a messy bun and stained sweatpants low on her hips. She always took "make yourself at home" very literally. Amina sat next to her, alternating between folding clothes and shoving potato chips into her mouth.

"So why am I in trouble?" Amina managed through a mouthful of food.

Zane perked up, as if she suddenly remembered exactly why she was there in the first place. "Zion told me something very interesting yesterday. He said he walked in on you and Brandon..."

"We were just dancing. It wasn't like that."

"Dancing with your back to his chest? That sounds a lot like grinding to me." Zane cocked an accusatory eyebrow.

Amina groaned, feeling the heat rise to the apples of her cheeks. She didn't know what she expected Zane to say, but she knew it wasn't that. Amina wasn't that type of girl. And judging from the month she had known Brandon, he wasn't that type either.

"You and I both know that wasn't what happened."

Zane shrugged, reclining further into the sofa. "I don't know, Mimi. Zion seemed pretty convinced."

"Trust me, we weren't doing anything like that."

"If you say so..."

Zane reached across Amina's lap to reach into the bag of Lays. She smiled happily as she crunched down on the chips. Amina knew barbeque was her favorite. Amina always preferred original.

When the doorbell rang, it was Zane who popped up to open it first. Amina barely noticed; it was custom for Zane to act like it were her house. Amina found it somewhat comforting.

"Mimi!" Zane called from the doorway. "Brandon's here."

Amina could hear the pitterpatter of her younger sister's feet from upstairs. She immediately shot up, running for the door before her little sister had the chance to make it down the stairs. She vowed that she would never let Cheyenne embarrass her in front of Brandon again. Zane retreated back into the house once Amina appeared.

Brandon looked comfortable today, probably more comfortable than Amina had ever seen him look. He was in a simple white tee with grey joggers and a denim jacket: the stereotypical look for boys their age. In true Brandon fashion, however, he still sported his two daily chains and a nice gold watch.

"Surprise surprise. Look who it is! The inventor of the human shield."

Brandon smiled, leaning against the doorframe. "Glad you're giving me the credit."

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I just wanted to hang out."

Amina's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Surely Brandon did not expect to be able to hang out on such short notice.

"Right now?" Amina felt herself stuttering over her words.

"If you can. If not, I can always walk back to Porter's."

"Zane's here..."

Brandon shrugged, cocking his head to the side in an adorably childish manner. "Zion may have said he was going to call her to pick her up in a bit."

As if on cue, Zane came bounding towards the front door, jacket and cell phone in hand. Amina just rolled her eyes at Brandon, wondering how he made this all work.