Brandi [STEVE HARRINGTON]

II. OF ALL THE GIN JOINTS

[ TWO ]
[ OF ALL THE GIN JOINTS ]
( IN ALL THE TOWNS, IN ALL THE WORLD, SHE WALKS INTO MINE )

— ❁ ❁ ❁ —

Brandi was determined that she'd never listen to Cyndi Lauper again. Anyone else was better than Cyndi Lauper. She'd rather listen to fucking ABBA than listen to Cyndi Lauper.

Thankfully enough, The Rolling Stones was on the radio when Brandi left their somewhat unpacked house in the morning. The music put her in a good mood because before she left Eric was taking a whole ten years to get ready. Brandi didn't want to be late her first day of school. Not that she cared about school at all for that matter, but she didn't want her first impression to be looking like a dumbass walking into class late. She never really had new kids in Earnest, but she saw movies and knew that teachers liked to put the new kids at the front of class and taunt them. It seemed like a scary thing, so Brandi didn't want that to happen to her at all.

Danny had made breakfast that morning before he left for his interview, (Not actually cooking, of course. Frozen chocolate chip Eggos was the extent to which he'd cook.), so Brandi and Eric weren't in as bad of a mood as they usually were in early mornings. Both of them were fat and happy, and argued for just the first five minutes since they got in the car together, which Brandi believed that could've earned an award. The Suttons got angry when they weren't fed and got happy when they were fed. It was science, really.

Brandi nodded to the beat of the music as she stuck her cigarette in between her lips, sucking in the nicotine. She was sure that this would be a good day. She got Eggos for breakfast, for God's fucking sakes, she never got breakfast in the morning, so it sure as hell better be a good day or Brandi would be fucking pissed.

Eric stared at her cigarette from the passenger's seat. "You know those kill ya, Bran? Ya know that, right?"

"Does it look like I fuckin' care about that?" Brandi asked. Eric frowned. "I'll be fine, bub. I'm not addicted or anythin'." She eyed him. "Why are ya questionin' me about my fuckin' cigs?"

"No reason," Eric said, looking out the window. His hair was blown back due to the wind that was blowing from the rolled window. He tried to cover up his concerned face, but Brandi knew better. He was still worried.

She gave him another look. "Eric."

"There's no goddamn reason!" He put his hands up in the air defensively.

"Stop sayin' that fuckin' word, or I'm tellin' Dad," Brandi warned.

"I'll tell Dad you smoke," Eric clapped back.

"Dad already knows I do that." She took a deep breath, then glanced at him momentarily. "But really, why do ya even care?"

Eric looked down at his hands, which were entwined together and fiddling around nonchalantly. "I just saw it on a commercial or somethin' the other day. I reminded me of you, and..." His voice started to get thick. "I just don't want somethin' happenin' to ya, Bran."