(A/N: I can't cross the O on my computer but I want to.)
Amanda
Brendon sat on the edge of my bed in My Chem's bus.
"How're you doing?"
I moaned and rolled over in reply.
"Do you need anything?"
"Yeah. There's a box of pads in my bag. Take a picture of it and go buy me another box or two from the nearest pharmacy. I have enough for now, but supplies don't last."
"Fine. If you need anything, call me or tell a band member. I'll be back in about ten minutes with your...stuff."
"Thanks Dad. You're the best." I hugged him as best as I could. "And can you tell Frank that I want his skeleton hoodie? I like oversized sweatshirts." He laughed.
"You know, it's kinda funny that when you want oversized clothing, you go to Frank. He's tiny."
"And I'm tinier. I want the sweatshirt. Tell him I said please."
"Ok. Don't do anything stupid without me."
"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."
"Was that a Captain America reference?"
"Obviously."
"You're a punk."
"Jerk. And if you're meeting Ryan, don't use all the milk. I want some with my cereal tomorrow."
"And you call me annoying?" He sighed. "I guess that's what I get for adopting a teenage fangirl that's read the Milk fic."
"I've read other stuff, too, if that's what you're wondering. I don't limit myself to things like that."
"You shouldn't have read that. I shouldn't have read that. It shouldn't have been written."
"But it was. And we both read it. Now take the picture and leave. And don't forget Frankie's sweatshirt."
Brendon
I stood in front of the pharmacy. I had dragged Dallon along, because there was no way I was going in there alone.
"Bren? Let's go." Dallon pulled the door open and we walked inside.
"Hi, can I help you with anything?" Thankfully, one of the female workers had come up right away. We had no idea where to go.
"Uh, yeah." I fumbled to take my phone out, keying in my password. "Where can I find these? They're for my daughter."
She smiled and led the two of us over to she shelves. "Why do you need two people to come?"
"Well," I fidgeted, and Dallon came to the rescue.
"He's not married, and I'm her uncle, and neither of us know where we're going." She nodded as I grabbed two boxes and we headed over to the register.
"Makes sense. Good luck on the concert tonight. I'm going to be there. And tell Amanda that Jemma Taylor says hi. I miss her." She grinned and handed us the bag. "Amanda's lucky to have been adopted by the person she loves most in the world."
Amanda
Brendon handed me the bag and sweatshirt, which I slipped on immediately. It was super comfortable.
"By any chance, do you happen to know a Jemma Taylor?" He asked.
I stared at him in shock. "Jemma? How do you know her?"
"She was working in the pharmacy...she told us to tell you that she says hi."
I haven't seen Jem in years. How does she still remember me?
"How do you know her?" Dad asked.
"She, um, well, she was one of my best friends in the orphanage. She was a couple of years older than me, and she introduced me to all of the bands that I love. I miss her so fucking much..."
"Hey, do you want to go see her?" Brendon asked gently. "Only if you're up to it. She said she's coming to the show tonight, so maybe you'll see her there..."
"I want to see her."
Jemma
I looked up to see Brendon and a younger girl walk through the front door.
My jaw dropped. "Amanda?" I asked quietly.
She smiled. "Jemma!" I ran over to her and gave her a huge hug.
"Oh my god, I missed you so much when you left." she mumbled into my shirt.
"You got so big! The last time I saw you, you were, like, ten!"
"And you were fifteen!"
"Oh god. Don't remind me about fifteen year old me." I laughed.
We chatted about life for about ten minutes before Brendon got a phone call.
"Manda. Soundcheck."
"Goddammit. Jemma, give me your phone." She quickly put in her number, and I did the same on hers.
"See you at the concert!" I called, smiling, as Brendon dragged her out of the pharmacy.