Brandon

two

SEPTEMBER

I was late for school. I rushed around my room panicking. My dad was yelling my name up the stairs for fifteen minutes now. I pulled on one knee high sock and then the other. I hated them almost as much as I hated my school uniform. Plaid skirt, white short sleeve button up shirt, red tie. And ugly.

It was an all girls school that my dad couldn't afford. He didn't know I knew, but he sold two of his most favorite guitars so I could go again this year. I didn't like the school at all, in fact I cried on the first day and just like always, he told Brandon. When I got home that day and Brandon was at my house, he gave me a furious look, and wouldn't look at me the rest of the night.

My dad makes me attend because my mother had gone there when she was a girl. And he said that's what she would have wanted me to do. He talked about her as if she was dead most the time. I didn't understand why. I stopped complaining after he told me that, but it didn't lessen the annoyance I had.

I shoved my shoes on my feet, they were a Mary Jane style that the school approved, another item we couldn't necessarily afford, but he bought them for me anyway. That was another thing he told Brandon about. How we couldn't afford anything. Not cable television, not the electric bill half the time, or groceries. But my dad had no trouble spending our money on music equipment. New microphones, new guitar pedals, new anything.

Brandon had always pushed my dad to do what he wanted. That was another reason why I couldn't stand him. He told my dad to do this and that, without thinking of what could happen. It made me mad because Brandon knew better.

Brandon couldn't afford his rent, or dinner, or new clothes. Until recently. I knew he had just gotten a new job because he had to wear nice clothes and work in an office. My dad laughed and laughed when he came to band practice in a nice shirt and tie with shiny black shoes. He wouldn't shut up about it. I laughed too, because my dad could make anyone laugh, and Brandon's cheeks were red the rest of the night. My dad always joked about how Brandon faked having a degree to get that job. I really laughed at that, because it was something he would do. When he caught me laughing and glared at me, I stopped. But I hid my smile whenever he looked away.

Slowly, Brandon would come over with things on I've never seen him wear before. Or tons of alcohol that had to be expensive. And the more I would walk into the garage to get into the car the next day, there would be more wires all over the floor connecting new speakers. Their band wasn't that famous, but they made some money from it. Ever since Brandon started his new job, they could record more songs, and the more songs they made, the more shows they had. My dad took me to a lot of them, even if it was a school night, or it was a bar. He had to sneak me through the back since I just turned 18, but I went noneleless.

Brandon hated when I came to the shows. He ignored me and always hit the drums louder when I tried to talk to my dad before they played. I had to sit by his girlfriend, who smiled the whole time and her perfume made me want to gag.

A loud car horn scared me, and I grabbed my bag off the couch. My notebook and some pens fell out, but I left them and ran out of the door. I realized I forgot to lock the door when I got to my dad's truck, so I ran back and grabbed the key from under the mat and locked it. When I was finally back to the car, he drove off and messed with the radio. The Beatles started playing. It was mom's favorite band. He hit the off button ten seconds into the song.

The school gates loomed over us. Dad and I always laughed about how there was no purpose for the gates, since there was not a lock or security system in the school at all. He dropped me off right in the front, where all the girls were lounging around and waiting for the bell. Some snickered as I got out of the car because the door creaked and the tires squealed when he finally drove off. I rolled my eyes. It was 12th year, I was a senior, and I didn't care who laughed at me.