Ideas When Dancing

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EDDIE was silent nearly the whole ride, it was unusual for him. Brandy didn't think he could ever go so long without a word, a noise, even a smile in her direction. It was painfully quiet, not even music played over the stereo of the van. The blonde looked over at him, his jaw was set as his eyes stared long and hard at the road, his knuckles nearly white from how hard he gripped the leather steering wheel. Brandy looked away with a sigh.

"Do you wanna talk about it...?" Brandy asked methodically as she stared out the windshield void. "Or are we just going to sit in silence while you stew?" The blonde looked over at him, his pale face blank, the boy not even making an effort to show that he was listening. Not one acknowledgment. "Okay..." Brandy mouthed silently as she let out a huff, her eyes wide.

"I just..." Eddie began, "Can't believe that asshole!" he groaned. "Oh but if I did that shit I would be sent to jail for vandalism!" He ranted and raved. "What because he's some big rich, blonde-, no offense-, football player he gets away with shit?!" Eddie asked, even if he wasn't asking Brandy in particular he looked to her. "It's not fair!"

"He'll get his karma," Brandy assured, not knowing how to console the boy. "Just don't say or do anything else to piss him off."

"Why!?" Eddie asked in bitterness. "What's he gonna do? Chase me across school again? Or- or maybe he'll trash my house next! Huh?"

"Or he'll actually hurt you!" Brandy turned her body to face him, her face full of worry and now agitation. "And trust me, he'll do more than just a little tap to the nose."

"So what?!" Eddie ranted.

"So I don't particularly wish to see you get hurt!" Brandy said in exasperation. Eddie looked at her finally, regret slowly making an appearance within his body language and on his features. He looked nearly shamefully back to the road, biting at the inside of his cheek. "I can't tell if we're arguing." Brandy sighed, rubbing her temples.

"Me either," He mumbled back.

Brandy let out a small chuckle, "This is such a stupid conversation," She groaned.

"Then let's quit having it," He suggested to her.

"As long as you talk, it makes me think you're mad at me or something when you don't." Brandy bartered, the trailer park coming into view.

"Deal," Eddie nodded. He couldn't imagine Brandy doing something to piss him off, maybe he just saw the world la vie en rose. "How the hell are we gonna get that paint off?" He sighed, pulling into his small driveway.

"With elbow grease." She told him, determination across her face.

"We have a water spicket out back," He told Brandy. "No hose though." Eddie shook his head.

"I'll ask your neighbors," The blonde planned.

"Good luck," he chuckled in doubt.

"What?" Brandy knitted her brows together.

"This isn't the suburbs, sweetheart." He said. "Not everyone 'round here is a 'borrowing sugar' kind of neighbor."

"I'll take my chances," She grinned at him before exiting the van. Eddie just shook his head at her with amusement, watching her determinedly strut around his neighborhood.

She walked a little way down the cracked pavement, her eyes searching for somebody who may be outside their home. The air was getting cooler, after all, the leaves slowly turning, and soon after a while, they'd all be brown, and who wouldn't want to be outside during such nice weather?

Brandy first spotted a man sitting outside an RV in a shitty folding chair, similar to one you would take camping. He sat smoking a cigar, a bottle of beer sitting within his cup holder. The man looked to her sternly, his eyes squinted at her with deep seeded crow's feet.

𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙁𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 || EDDIE MUNSONWhere stories live. Discover now