A/N: The dedication is because she made the cover on the side, as well as the covers for the Poetry Collection and the Just One Night Extras! And guys, she writes to so don't just fan her for the covers...
Chapter 6 – Meeting Brandon's Family.
I woke up the next morning with a searing pain in my stomach area, and it took a few minutes to remember why I was hurting. I tried to assess the damage without standing up, but found it was impossible; I'd cut along the crease I usually used to sit up with, and was feeling it now.
With a wince, I managed it, walking slowly to the bathroom so I could use the mirror to see the cut. The bandages were going to be a pain to remove, but I had to see it first hand, see if I'd be able to use cramps or something as an excuse to not go to Brandon's today.
I unwound the layers, surprised to see the top three were clear. That was good; I could use those again for the day. I was hoping it would be quiet, that I wouldn't have to worry about being too active and hurting myself.
I took off the bandage, cutting it at the point where the line of blood stopped and reapplying it over a layer of antiseptic cream.
As I made my way to the kitchen I stopped by my father's room, needing to see if he was still passed out or if he'd left already. I wasn't surprised to see the door open, the bed a mess, and the little sheet of paper that said 'gone for work'. I just attempted to clean up a little, fighting through the pain on my stomach. I'd take a painkiller if I had to, but I didn't want to. I wanted the reminder in case today became too much for me to handle.
I finished tidying the bed, deciding to finish cleaning the house before I ate anything. I wasn't that hungry, so I could wait. I made sure the room was clean and shut the door behind me, knowing it would be another couple of months before I ended up there again.
Before I went to the living room, I grabbed a box to dump the empty beer bottles I knew would be hidden somewhere. It wouldn't have even been intentional, but my father liked to pretend he'd had only two beers when he'd had ten. I wanted to blame his drunken self, but I knew it was all him, no matter which side of him did it.
Not that there was a side that wasn't hammered most of the time.
I found the bottles eventually, hidden under the sofa. I counted fifteen, at least. Who knew how many of them had been under there before last night? Or was that why he'd been so out of it?
I shrugged it off. I didn't care, it didn't matter to me. I just had to get these into the recycling bin and make sure I got that out at some point.
As I made my way to the bin, holding the box of beer bottles, there was a knock on the door.
I frowned. No one ever came here except for the occasional door salesman, but they never usually worked Saturdays.
With a sigh, I set the box down onto a table and went to look through the little peephole. I couldn't have been more surprised at who was on the other side.
I opened the door, confused. “Brandon?” I asked, looking him up and down.
“Andrea! Hey! I realized we never really talked about times, and I never got your number so... what are you wearing?” He cut himself off, and I looked down, confused. I was wearing my knee-length shorts and a long sleeved night shirt. Even when I slept, I made sure to try and keep my scars covered.
“My night stuff?” I told him, but it ended up sounding like a question. Why did he sound so shocked?
“It suits you,” Brandon commented.
I frowned. “You're being weird. I guess you can come in while I change.” Even being his friend, I barely ever said more than a few words. Brandon's eyes widened, but he nodded. He'd learned to stop commenting on when I said above a certain number of words.
I forced him to sit on the sofa. “Be right back, I just have to change and take out some recycling,” I told him. I needed some water or something as well.
“I'll sit here and stare at your amazing television set,” Brandon commented, sarcasm in his tone as he stared at the desk in front of a blank wall.
I didn't answer. What was I supposed to say? My father was never around to get one, and I had no interest in getting one because I didn't see the point. Instead I continued moving the bottles to the bin, emptying them in one at a time so Brandon wouldn't get curious. I wasn't too sure how I'd be able to explain the overload of beer bottles. I think there was even a Smirnoff bottle.
I had to pass the living room, and upon glancing into the room, I noticed Brandon frowning at a picture on the desk. I was sure it was one that had my mother in.
I didn't want to deal with his questions about her, so I made my way silently to my bedroom, changing quickly into a different long sleeved shirt and some jeans. I slipped into my sneakers and quickly brushed my teeth. I hadn't eaten, but I wasn't hungry still. I'd be fine until lunch.
“Already done?” Brandon asked, sounding shocked as I walked into the living room.
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Nice. Do you have a curfew?” He asked.
I shook my head, knowing I'd have to explain. “My fa-, I mean, my dad, is pretty trusting. Just have me back before midnight,” I suggested. That sounded somewhat reasonable, right?
“Sounds good.” Brandon walked over to me and pulled out a set of car keys. “Let's go.”
I followed him out to his car, not seeing the point in taking my own keys or locking up. It wasn't like my house had anything valuable in it.
As we pulled out of my driveway, Brandon asked the question I knew he'd been wanting to ask for a while. “So, where's your dad?”
I shrugged. “At work. He has a constant job.” It wasn't a lie, not at all. My father really was working, as far as I knew, and his job really was all the time.
“I see. So who's the woman in the photos?” He asked.
I tried to figure out the best way to answer the questions that would follow. “She's my mother,” I told him.
“Where is she?” I wasn't surprised by this, and knew exactly how to answer it this time.
“She died when I was six,” I explained. “It's a touchy subject around me, and Anna knows that. Everyone does.”
There. I didn't explain why it was touchy, and if Brandon asked why, I could just shrug and tell him I didn't handle death well.
Luckily for me, we reached his house pretty quickly so the interrogation didn't last too long. Since the last time I was here, an additional car had been added to the driveway. Other than that, I couldn't see any other major changes.
“So, ready to meet my family?” Brandon asked, almost as though I had a choice.
So I shrugged, faking a small smile. In a way, I wanted it to be real. I didn't want to lie to his family too, but I had to. It was nicer than the truth in this case.
“Don't worry, it's not like they'll be too hard on you. We're just friends and they know that.” He smiled at me before getting out of the car.
I had to be relieved about that. I'd never had a boyfriend, never even kissed or held hands with a guy, because I'd never wanted to get close to anyone. I didn't want the first friend I had to be pushed away because his parents didn't like us being just friends or something.
Maybe I had tried pushing him away in the beginning, but he'd been growing on me.
We left his car and walked in before I could think twice, and I think that was Brandon's goal. He didn't want me over-thinking this, which was a problem when I was used to over-thinking.
“Mom, dad, Evie! I bought Andrea!” Brandon yelled into the house as we took our shoes off in the little doorway entrance.
In seconds, a girl wearing a thigh-length skirt and a loose tank top walked into view, smiling widely.
“Hi! I'm Evangeline, but everyone calls me Evie. You must be Andrea! I've heard so much about you! We're going to be great friends!” Evie hugged me before I could prepare, and I felt the sharp sting of pain in my abdomen.
I knew my body tensed up slightly, so to cover it up I hugged her back, not exactly sure what I was even doing.
“We need to talk,” Evie whispered in my ear, and as she pulled away I saw the serious glimmer in her eyes.
I nodded subtly, not sure why she wanted to talk to me. However, when her glance hovered over my wrists, I froze. How could she..? Did she know? Did she figure it out just like that? Was she that observant?
She stepped back, the smile once again on her face. I gave her my own small one, and before I could be introduced to Brandon's parents, Evie took my hand. I noticed how she avoided my wrist, and my paranoia grew a little.
“We have so much to talk about! I want to tell you all the embarrassing stories about my brother!” She winked, dragging me to another room even as Brandon protested. Evie didn't give him a chance, or opportunity, to stop us, and I wasn't sure yet if I was thankful or not.
I decided on not when Evie sat me on a bed in what I assumed was her room, shut and locked her door, and turned to me with an angry look on her face.
“What the hell are you doing?”