Brandon

She stared out of her living room window onto the street, she could hear the tone of his voice in her ear, but she had tuned out what he was talking about. Her eyes moved slowly across the street as she watched the few cars pass and then the street was vacant again. No kids playing along the sidewalks, no one out working in their yard, just silent emptiness.

“Well?” His voice chimed back in.

“Well, what?” she probed, completely oblivious that he’d been asking her opinion on something that she’d faded out from.

“Yo, I don’t know why I bother talking to you sometimes…” he started.

“Dude! Chill out. I was just making sure I understood the question.” She quickly interjected, trying to recover her position.

“Nah, fool. You weren’t even listening to me!” He insisted.

“I was, I just didn’t understand your question!” She replied, giving away her mental distance at this point.

He just started cracking up laughing, “Seriously? C’mon kid, how can you not understand the question? I sent you a text and asked you what you thought; like I said, not listening!”

At this point she knew her cover was blown and that there was nothing else to do but be honest. She didn’t even know why she bothered trying to cover up when she wasn’t listening, he knew her so well that there was never really a point and almost every conversation that she tuned out of would reach this point. She looked down at her phone and exited the call screen to access her text messages. She looked and he had sent her a picture of a scantily clad female with golden curls draping down over her shoulders and a sultry pout. She eyed the picture over for a few seconds and then put the phone back to her ear.

“Her eyebrows are ridiculous. Maybe if she actually grew them in and had real ones, she could be cute.”

“Yea, okay – but what about the rest?” he pried.

“I mean…other than spaghetti brows, she’s cute…I guess. Why don’t the women you send pictures of ever have clothes on?”

“Whatchu mean? She’s got a tank top on…that’s clothes!”

“Dude, she’s got her breast practically overflowing out of this teeny, tiny tank. Clothes would be something that actually fits her.”

“Blah! Whatever yo, just give me your opinion on the rest…” he waited.

“I mean, like I said she’s cute. I wouldn’t go any further than that. She’s got a nice shape it seems like, but she looks short…which, whatever, I know doesn’t even bother you. Honestly, she reminds me of a Cabbage Patch Doll…except in Barbie’s tank top!” She burst out laughing at her own commentary. She cracked herself up often, but he just ignored her laughter. Quite frankly, she did not like “judging” women…but he always insisted on getting her opinion. She suspected he did this with most of his females friends, but she could never really figure out why. She never asked him what he thought, looks wise anyway, about any of the men that she dated and she suspected that none of his other female friends did either. Never the less, she would always give him her opinion because she knew he wouldn’t let up until she did.

“Word.” He said, semi chuckling at her remark about the Cabbage Patch Doll. “I love her one dimple! Grrrr” he rolled his tongue making a sexy growling type sound. She couldn’t see his face, but she didn’t need to, she could picture him clearly as he did that and she silently shook her head.

Their relationship wasn’t complicated but sometimes she would silently question it. She loved him so dearly, but only as a friend. He was literally always there for her; there was rarely a time that he wouldn’t pick up the phone for her. She’d even bounced on him when one of her boyfriends insisted that he could not stand the presence of him (though he’d never actually, physically met him), and forbid her from speaking to him. She should have known then to get rid of her boyfriend rather than her friend, but in the moment of trying to “save things,” she bid him farewell on a voicemail and bounced from his life. It was painful to her to betray him like that – she never really forgave herself for treating him that way, though when they came back in contact he forgave her with kindness and never really brought it up. Even if it did come up, she wouldn’t speak about it because she was so ashamed. They’d been friends for countless years. She’d shared every heartbreak, every decision, every move she’d make with him and he was always there to weigh in. She’d never really considered dating him, as they were almost too much alike at least enough to get on each other’s nerves – though it never lasted long and they could always move on from it. She’d even made a pact with him that should they not be married by a certain age, that they’d just get together…but she regretted making that pact soon after and really any time that he would bring it up. For the fact that she sincerely could not see them being romantically involved… They were equally immature and both fumbling their way through life – but at times she felt worlds apart from him. What she would soon find out was exactly how many worlds apart they actually were.

****

Her alarm sounded and before she could turn it off, her phone began ringing. She flipped it toward her face from the nightstand to see who could be calling at this hour; it was him. She rolled her eyes hard before sliding her finger across the screen to answer.

“Yea?” she sounded half annoyed for no reason and half filled with sleep still.

“Were you sleepin’?” He questioned, sounding quite awake.

“What the fuck do you think? It’s 6am!!” she growled, further irritated that he was acting as though he was calling at 2 in the afternoon.

“Well, get up Dude!” His voice was urgent and had a pleading undertone to it.

Confused by this shift in sounds, she rubbed her eyes and started to sit up. Just then a rush of dizziness hit her like the tide crashing into the break point in the ocean. It knocked her right back unto her pillow and she immediately grabbed her head to try and keep it from spinning. “Arrgh.” She let out, forgetting she was on the phone.

“Yo? You good?” He questioned, now sounding concerned.

“I don’t know. Something is wrong!” mumbling from a face full of pillow, she continued gripping at her head, pressing her palms firmly into her temples, letting the phone drop to the side of her face. She could hear him saying something from the handset, but couldn’t make out the words. She didn’t respond, simply laid there for a few moments until the dizzy spell passed.

“Yo.” She said, sounding exhausted as she picked her phone back up.

“What was that?” He inquired.

“I don’t know. I tried to sit up and…and…I don’t know. I just got overwhelmed with dizziness.” She exclaimed, still startled.

“Damn. I’m sorry, yo. That sounds bad. Well get up. We have some things to do today, I’ll be over in about 15.” He said, suddenly dropping the concern and moving onto business.

Before she could respond, he’d ended the call. His Jersey accent still reeling in her mind I’m sorry, yo. He said it so casually as if there were no real emotion present. This confused her, but she was trying not to read too much into his actions. She often dismissed a lot of the things that he did, in order to keep the peace in their relationship. She felt like he rarely judged her and if she started picking at everything he did, they wouldn’t be friends. She stood to get dressed, brushing her hair and pulling it up into a messy bun on top of her head, then heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She was trying her best to remember what plans they’d made, but she couldn’t come up with anything. Still scrubbing her teeth, she waltzed over to the calendar hanging above her desk. She’d tried using her cell phone calendar before, but she’d often forget to enter things and since she was so accustomed to writing dates down on post-its, she figured she’d stick to that and just plaster them to her calendar and call it a day. There was nothing on the day’s date. Heading back to the bathroom to rinse, she figured he must just want to go out to breakfast. A lot of times he’d drop in for that, but it was usually after a night of drinking or something they’d plan. She stopped thinking when she heard some drips hit the sink and she looked down to see small droplets of blood in the bowl. She instantly felt nauseated and touched her nose. Pulling her hand away, a smear of bright red blood coated her fingers. She looked in the mirror and began to panic. Rinsing her toothbrush out and the sink, she bent down to fumble around through the boxes and find a ‘lite’ tampon to cut and stick up her nose. It sincerely bothered her that she was experiencing a nosebleed in this moment, after the dizzy spell. Not knowing why or what was going on, she sat on the toilet, with tampon halves up her nose and her head tilted back for about 5 minutes until she heard a knock at the door. Getting up to unlatch the locks and let Brandon in, he immediately looked confused.

“Yoooo? What is going on chick?” He inquired in that emotionless tone from before, as he studied her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, he was asking a question but it was as if he already knew the answer. The way he asked it almost suggested that he had the answer. A small wave of fright ran through her spine, at the tone of his voice. She had no idea why her body was having this reaction, but she knew something wasn’t right, it was just a matter of what, though.

“I don’t know.” She replied quietly, studying his face for more hints.

He patted her head and put his hand on her back, “Let me take a look.” He said softly, leading her back to her bathroom. Slowly pulling out the tampon halves, he looked her over for a few moments. Pushing some strands of hair that had fallen loose from her bun, he said, “Hmmm. Dizziness, a nose bleed? Neither seems good, but together they seem worse. I was thinking breakfast and then shopping for the benefit tonight that I just knew you’d forgotten about…but now I’m thinking you should rest!” His tone was overly careful and soft.

“Oh my goodness! Geez! The benefit. How could I have forgotten? I could have sworn that was on my calendar…geez!” she gushed, mad at herself for letting something so major fall off her radar.

“Don’t worry. You lie down! I picked up this Redbox movie you might like, I’ll throw this on and I’ll go grab some cappuccinos and croissants from café up the street. I’ll be back and we can watch this together. We’ll figure out the rest once we know you’re feeling better.”

She instantly felt gracious to him and slightly bad for sounding so annoyed earlier. Though his excessive use of 'we' rubbed her the wrong way, but she let it go.nHe left and she curled up on her couch with “Mike & Dave Need Wedding Dates” but it wasn’t long after he left that her nosebleed returned, along with the dizziness, and she found herself back in the bathroom hoping that he would return soon.

About 20 minutes passed, she was posted against her bathroom wall, sitting on the floor in a large amount of pain. She heard her door open and Brandon called out letting her know that he had returned. She cried out and he came rushing to her. As soon as he put his hand on her shoulder to take a look at her nose, she felt better. Not just because he was there for her, but she physically felt better. The dizziness subsided and when he pulled out the wadded up toilet paper from her nostrils, the blood had dried as well. She had tears in her eyes and he gently suggested that she return to the couch, letting her know that he had a surprise for her. As they entered her living room and she sat down on the couch, he pulled out a garment bag. Her eyes narrowed as she squinted heavily at what she assumed he’d done. Sure enough, as he unzipped the bag, there was a gorgeous dress hanging there. It was simple but eloquent and quite perfect for the banquet.

The only thing she hated more than shopping was other people buying her clothes. It just never felt right and usually, they never fit right either. She glared at him and he quickly responded, “Listen, I know that you hate it when people buy you shit. I get that. But check it… you’re sick. We don’t know what’s wrong with you and I know despite all that, you’re not going to miss the benefit. So I thought, no big deal if I grab something for you. Now you don’t have to think about it… you don’t have to deal with shopping, which we both know you hate… especially when you’re already not feeling well. All you have to do is rest, and get ready, hours from now!”

His point was so well thought out that despite her wanting to protest, she couldn’t. He was right about everything, including the color of the dress. A perfect coral that went amazing with her skin tone and dark hair.

“Well, what size is it anyway? It’s not like you…” before she could finish he replied.

“Six, dude.”

Rolling her eyes she responded, “Well I don’t have sho…”

Again, interrupting her as if he already knew the arguments she’d pitch for no reason he said, “Yea whatever! You have a pair of Silver stilettos that you can rock with this. So don’t tell me you don’t have shoes.”

Despite her feeble attempts at rejecting his purchase, he had her. He’d done everything perfectly and she couldn’t even get mad. She actually felt relieved that he was there and turning a curious eye toward the café goodies, she reached for a chocolate croissant and leaned back to continue watching the movie.

***

She woke to find a small puddle of blood staining her pillowcase. She must have fallen asleep on the couch, but it seems he had put a pillow under her head and covered her with a blanket. Startled, she jumped up, touching her nose and finding that blood was still present and running. Her heart started beating erratically and she called out for him, but there was no response.

She headed to the bathroom to wash her face and then began looking for her keys. She had to see someone about what was happening, this was simply not normal. As she searched for her keys and grabbed her wallet, she heard her front door open again. There was no sound, so she hollered out, “Brandon?”

“Yuh.” She heard him respond.

Running to him, she was sweaty and upset.

“What’s good? What’s going on?” he said, his face twisting up in a weird way.

“I-I don’t know. I woke up, there was blood, a lot of blood, I can’t stop it.” She said, rapidly waving her finger toward the living room, trying to motion to where the blood stained pillow lay. Tears were welling up in her eyes from fear and as she wiped them away, she noticed that he did not look concerned. He almost had a look of subtle achievement. That shrill spike of fear ran down her spine again and she stepped backward from him. He quickly grabbed her and hugged her whispering that she’d be all right. She noticed as soon as he touched her, the sweat dried and physically she felt fine again. He suggested instead of jetting off to the hospital, maybe she just lie down again, offering to get her some water. She was not having this though, despite feeling better, she insisted on going to urgent care, so he gave in and offered to drive her. She accepted.

About an hour of waiting room sitting and thirty minutes of the nurse examining her and asking her why she’d come, passed by before she was able to see the doctor. He examined her carefully but couldn’t figure out what might be the issue. He checked her ears to rule out infection and said that her nasal cavity wasn’t dry or irritated; it wasn’t even coated with blood dried or fresh. He questioned whether or not she had large amounts of caffeine on a regular basis or if she did any drugs. She watched Brandon playing in his phone as she answered the questions. The doctor then moved on to putting in for some blood tests to see if she registered for diabetes, anemia or was possibly having issues with high blood pressure. As he left the room and asked her to sit tight, she turned to look at Brandon. He was now watching her carefully.

“You can go, if you’d like? No sense in sitting here bored out of your mind with me.” She offered.

“Nah, I’m good. I want to make sure everything comes back clear.” He said.

The way he said this, sent chills back down her spine once again. It wasn’t like he said that he wanted to make sure she was okay, but that everything came back clear? It was an odd way to phrase it. She felt crazy but something about the way he was behaving today was bothering her more than it should. Something about the way he insisted on being around her, not like that of a concerned friend but that of someone trying to control the situation. The way she 'suddenly' felt better whenever he'd touch her but instantly sick when he'd leave, she noticed these things and it made her very uncomfortable.

“So, how are things with that girl?” she asked, trying to take attention off of her and return to a more normal subject.

“What girl?” he asked.

“The one you sent the picture to me of… ‘goldie-locks’ the one with the golden curls,” she chuckled.

“Oh! Oh…yea, um… she’s… well I haven’t really heard from her lately. It’s whatever though.”

“Oh.” She said, silently resigning.

“I’m going to go to the cafeteria and get something to drink, you want some water or anything?” he offered.

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” she replied.

As he left the room, she noticed he’d left his phone on the chair with his coat hanging off the back. Something told her to check all of it. She didn't normally invade people's privacy like that, but the nagging feeling would not leave. She looked into the hall to see if he’d gone from the area and as soon as she saw no one but the nurses at the nurse’s station standing around, she went over to his items. She reached into his pockets and felt nothing in either except some loose change. Carefully examining the coat, she found an inside pocket. Diving her slender fingers into it, she felt a small piece of paper. She pulled it out and saw a small purple sticky note, like the ones she used for her calendar. It still had some tackiness on the back of it, despite being covered in pocket lint and as she turned it over, her heart jumped and the chill returned to her spine. Scrawled in black pen:

Humane Society Benefit 7pm

It was her own handwriting. She froze. He had taken this off of her calendar! He took this off her calendar and hid it and then pretended as if she’d forgotten about the event. How long ago did he take this? Why would he do this? The thoughts in her head were so loud she couldn’t focus. She put the post-it back into the pocket and went for his phone. There was a passcode on there, but it only took her 3 tries to crack it.

Once in she double tapped the center button to see what he’d been using recently. Some text messages were the latest, so she went there first. Rapidly scrolling through in a panic, as she walked over to the door to check and make sure he wasn’t coming back yet. Texts to friends about being busy today, some more about last Saturday's football game in the park, some video game talk, the same image of that golden haired girl to a few other girls…then she found one to a number she didn't recognize and a name attached to it 'Ava', this text had a picture of HER! The text underneath her picture read What do you think? It was just like the text he’d sent her a couple of weeks ago about goldi-locks.

She froze again, starting to feel a cold sweat coming on. She moved over to the images in his phone and there were folders upon folders, all with numbers labeling them, 3453, 3454, 3455, 3456 and one labeled 3457-Current with a face that was all too familiar. It was hers; there were at least 20 images of her. Pictures saved of the outfits she’d sent when she was trying on stuff in the dressing room of Kohl’s and couldn’t make a decision, a few months back. Funny images that

she’d sent where she was being a goofball from years ago, and images of herself that she’d never even sent him. Her eyes begin to well up with tears, she couldn’t understand what was going on but everything was not what it seemed. She exited his images file and began to see what other apps he still had open and running.

Spotify music app, his e-mail, ESPN stats, and this Life-Line Tracker app that she had no idea what it was. She pulled that up, pacing back over to the door and peering out the sliver of window to see if he was coming back yet. Still nothing. She looked over the app; it was called Hoodoo Life Tracker. It was a black background with what looked like speedometers, several of them. At the top it read #3457, with a thumbnail image of her! Panic began to spread through her entire body as she read the numbers on the speedometers. Everything was in the red, low numbers and as her heart beat faster, she saw a monitor going off on the app with a life line spiking, it was registering her heart beat. Somehow, this app was connected to her. Somehow it was tracking her health. She threw the phone, ripped off her urgent care bracelet and tried to slow her breath so she could think straight.

She had to get out of there, but she couldn’t leave this device behind in hands that were up to no good. In the hands of someone she thought she knew, someone who was a friend. What was he up to? Who were all of these other women. Who WAS this guy? She grabbed his phone again and her clothes and dipped into the connecting bathroom. Just as she shut the door she could hear his voice, talking with what must have been the doctor coming back to her room. She had very little time to try and escape and she knew there was no way she could go back in the room and play it off. She feared him and whatever was going on, the fact that she couldn't understand or make sense of what she'd found and how this was all possible freaked her out far beyond a poker face. She unlocked the other door to the connecting bathroom and snuck in. There was an elderly man in the bed who appeared to be sleeping. She took the opportunity to change into her street clothes, grabbing an oversized hoodie from the rack hanging in the old man’s room. Just as she zipped it up, she heard a voice. It was the man.

“I won’t tell.” He said calmly.

“Huh?” She replied, startled.

“I won’t tell. You’re trying to escape? I won’t say anything.”

She smiled politely and neared the old man’s bed. She put her hand over his and he looked up at her with large, kind eyes.

“We all have something we’re trying to escape from. Me, I’m escaping the old-folks home. I'm escaping death! The lifeless home where your own children put you so they can forget about you with out feeling guilty. So, THIS is MY escape. But you dear, you seem dire to leave so I won’t tell. Won’t say a word.”

Just then he caught a glimpse of the phone screen lighting up, his large eyes could make out the words Hoodoo from beneath her slim thumbs gripping desperately to the device.

“My.”

She tilted her head, puzzled by this verbal addition, not realizing that he was staring at Brandon’s phone.

“I’m sorry about stealing your hoodie” she said softly while looking down at her feet. She didn't know what else to say to him.

He grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly, pulling her into him. “My dear… don’t you worry about that hoodie. It’s my sons. He forgot it when he stopped in to see me this morning when they brought me. I don’t suspect he’ll be back for it, considering I don’t suspect he’ll be back to see me again. But, you have far more to worry about than an old hoodie,” He urged as he nodded toward the phone. Her eyes grew wide when she realized he was still staring at a now black screen. She looked back toward the adjoined bathroom door and he registered that she was fleeing her own room and that the threat was still present.

Pulling her in closer he said, “Listen. I’m going to hold my breath until I pass out! I do this at the nursing home when I need a break from the day-to-day. It usually gets me extra jell-o and an afternoon in the nurse’s office, where she lets me watch anything I want on her personal TV. So, I’m going to do that for you. By the looks of it, you're in some real trouble. When I pass out, the monitor is going to go off, it will create a commotion and the staff will rush in. An alarm sounds over the whole floor and there’s usually a big fuss. You will hide under the bed. There’s a latch, if you can help me with it now it will be in ‘rolling position’ so you can slide underneath and the staff won't have to adjust it when they go to roll me to the exam room. They always do this any time the monitor goes off. I don’t mind a few extra needle pokes, but it will get you to the exam room, which is on the 5th floor. From there you can exit via the back stairs, which will put you in the alley. When you get out… you run. Whoever’s phone that is, you just run from…"

How did he read her situation so well? Who was this old man? She went to interrupt to ask him what he knew about the app or her situation, but then she heard the door click from the other side, the old man’s eyes grew larger and she quickly raised his bed and slid underneath without asking another thing. She clung to the underneath so hard that her arms began to cramp. The man did just as he said, passing out. And just as he’d outlined, alarms started sounding and once they revived him, the staff quickly wheeled him out and into the elevator. As the elevator doors closed, she saw him. She saw Brandon standing, searching frantically with rage in his eyes. He turned, but the door had shut and she was escaping.