Finding Home (4 page)

I just looked at him curiously, but then I nodded.  Bars were not my scene, but if it made Brandon happy, I’d go. 

“Alright.  I’ll give it a try,” I said, gathering my things up.

“I didn’t know you were so easily swayed, Mandy.  I thought for sure you’d tell me how lame my idea was.”

“I’m always up for new adventures, especially if it’ll make you feel better.”

The smirk left his face and he stared at me, his mouth forming into a stern line.

“You don’t have to come with me.  I’m not some pathetic charity case.”

“Brandon,” I said quickly, surprised by his reaction.  It came from nowhere and his voice was short and curt, almost angry. “I never said you were.  I just meant…I just wanted…” I was having a hard time finding my words.  I always said the wrong thing.  I was used to that, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what I’d said that had been so wrong to cause that kind of reaction. “I just want to spend time with you.”

I watched as his face relaxed and then he looked down at the table.  His eyes lingered there for a while and I waited until he finally looked up at me again.  His face was softer this time, but he didn’t smile.

“I’m sorry, Mandy.”  His voice was quiet as my hand rested on the table before it inched back across and took Brandon’s.  I didn’t care if he didn’t want me to do it; I was going to do it anyway. “I guess you were right.  I am exactly the same.  A total asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole.” I smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

“This whole thing…Afghanistan…my…” He stopped though and I hoped he’d keep talking.  I wanted him to open up to me, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said in a chipper voice, just wanting to put it behind us, but knowing there was more he needed to tell me. “Now, let’s go make fun of some people.”

Three

“Did you really have a fake ID?” I asked as I eased my P.O.S. into the parking lot of Gentry’s.  It looked packed and if it wasn’t for Brandon, there’s no way I’d be coming to this place.

“I did,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“But, that’s illegal,” I said, realizing I sounded like a total prude.

“Yeah, it is.  But,” he said, turning towards me. “The way I see it, I was old enough to go to war for my country and get my leg blown off.  I should be allowed to have a fucking beer if I want.”

“Good point.”  He didn’t say anything more and I turned off the ignition and met Brandon at the front of the car before following him to the doors.

I could smell the cigarette smoke and hear the music before we even entered and when Brandon opened the door, I literally felt like I was swimming in an ashtray.  My parents would have a field day when I got home and they smelled it on me.  I’d just pray they were asleep and I could shower and wash my clothes before they realized where I’d been.  Bars were definitely not an acceptable hang out in their books.  I was fairly certain neither of them had ever even set foot in a bar before. 

I started coughing a little as we got further inside and Brandon looked back at me.

“You okay?” he asked and I just nodded, not wanting him to know the smoke was driving me crazy. 

I kept following him towards the stage and a terrible rendition of Britney Spears’ “Toxic”.  We found a small open table and sat down and I was grateful the smoke didn’t seem as thick.

“See, this is gonna be good,” he said, leaning in and speaking into my ear so I could hear him over the banshee on stage.

I just laughed and sat back in the chair, focusing on the shrieking girl.  She was obviously tanked.  No sober person would allow themselves to slide up and down the mike stand like a pole dancer. 

Brandon got into it right away, clapping and cheering loudly.  I, on the other hand, was not as easily amused.  I never understood the purpose of making a public fool of one’s self. 

A waitress came by and Brandon ordered a rum and Coke while I opted for a Shirley Temple.

“What the hell, Mandy?” Brandon laughed when the waitress left. “A Shirley Temple?”

“I happen to like Shirley Temples.”

“But, we’re adults now.  You know that, right?”

“Shut up, Brandon.”

He just grinned and turned back to the stage where the “Toxic” girl was finishing up her set.  An older guy with a shaggy beard and a beer belly came up next.  He started belting out some old song.  I had no clue what it was, but the crowd seemed to enjoy it. 

“I’m going up,” he said as the guy’s song started winding down.

“You’re not serious!” I exclaimed.

“Hell ya, I’m serious.  You only live once, right?”  He winked at me, took a swig of his drink and then stood up before I could respond.  A few moments later, he was climbing up the stairs and grabbing the microphone. “Howdy y’all!” His voice boomed through the speakers and the crowd cheered with him.  “My name is Brandon Seaver, but y’all might know me better as the local boy who got his leg blown off in Afghanistan.  I’m sure you’ve read about my sob story in the Carver Chronicle.”  The crowd grew quieter then and I could feel the uneasiness settle over the people.  No one quite knew how to react, but then the chubby guy who’d just finished singing, stood up and started clapping and whistling.  “That’s more like it.  It’s good to be home,” Brandon said with his usual confidence, pointing at the guy and giving him a thumbs up.  Everyone else jumped to their feet too, but I stayed seated as I watched everyone cheering for my friend.  He scanned the crowd, but his eyes settled on mine.  He smiled and winked before looking away.  “Is everyone having a good time tonight?” He asked and the crowd began cheering again.  Brandon had always been a character and I wasn’t surprised he’d drawn the crowd in so easily. “Now, let’s see how well a one-legged prick like me can sing.”

Music started blaring through the speakers and I instantly recognized it as the classic Garth Brooks anthem, “I’ve Got Friends in Low Places”.  The crowd went wild again and a second later, Brandon’s deep voice was carrying through the bar.  Everyone was still standing and soon a chorus of voices was singing along with him, but you could still hear Brandon’s voice clearly above the others.  Just like that night at Slate Creek, I was surprised by his voice.  It was deep and smooth and I thought he was giving Garth a run for his money. 

I sat back in the chair, my arms folded and a smile on my face as I watched Brandon work the stage and the crowd.  He looked happy and his smile was worth spending my evening in this dive. 

When he was done, Brandon took an overly dramatic bow, and then trotted down the stairs to the cheers of the crowd.  He made his way back over to our table, pulling out his chair and taking a drink of his rum and Coke.  I knew the grin on my face was stupidly wide and I could feel tears burning the backs of my eyes at how content and happy he seemed.  I just hoped he wouldn’t notice and accuse me of being an emotional mess. 

“Impressed much?”

“Actually, I am.  I could never get up there and do that.”

“Yes, you could,” he said, taking the last swig of his drink. “You’ve just gotta learn to live a little.  Let your hair down, Amanda.”  I started laughing and Brandon stared back at me, obviously wondering what had brought about my chuckle. “What’s so damn funny?”

“My name’s not Amanda.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No.  It’s not.”

“Then you’re just Mandy?”

I folded my arms and openly scoffed across the table at him.

“How have you known me since I was five and not know my name?”

“Because you’re just Mandy.  I guess I just assumed,” he said, a puzzled look on his face. “So, what is it then?”

“Miranda.”

“Miranda?” he scoffed back. “Why the hell do you go by Mandy then?”

“I don’t know.  My parents just always called me that.  It just goes to show we don’t know each other as well as I thought we did.”

“C’mon, Miranda…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Make up your mind.”

“Just leave it at Mandy, okay?”

“Fine,” he said, flagging down the waitress and ordering another drink. “It’s too bad though.  I like Miranda.”

“You do?”

“I do.  It’s pretty.  Kinda fancy sounding.”

I’d never liked Miranda.  It sounded like an old lady to me, but now that Brandon mentioned it, maybe it was a nice name.

I was about to respond, but was stopped when I saw someone approaching our table.  As she got closer, I realized she looked familiar.  It was Dana Daley, one of the bitches that had always tagged along with Adrienne, the most terrible girl in our high school.  I didn’t hate anyone, but I strongly disliked Dana.  She’d never been openly rude to me, but after what Adrienne and Alex did to Riley, I was close to hating that whole crew. 

Brandon must’ve seen me looking at Dana because he turned around to see what had grabbed my attention.  I watched the expression on his face and I didn’t like it when I saw the corner of his mouth curl up, obviously satisfied with what he saw coming our way.

Dana was pretty.  Always had been.  Her hair was a pretty shade of red and it always looked soft, almost too soft, as it hung over her shoulders.  She was tall and thin and perfect.  The type of girl, like Riley, who amplified every insecurity I had about myself.  The only difference was that Riley was nice.  Dana was not. 

“Hi, Brandon,” Dana said when she finally reached our table and then her eyes drifted over to me. “Hey, Mandy.”

I just acknowledged her with a forced smile, but didn’t say anything.

“Dana Daley,” Brandon said, the sly grin on his face growing wider as his eyes moved over her body.  I wasn’t sure if Dana noticed him doing that, but I did. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she said and then gestured to the vacant seat at our table. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Brandon said and I suddenly felt like I’d disappeared from the table.  Dana slid the chair out and then sat down, leaning against the back while she crossed her legs, causing the short white skirt to hike up even further on her thighs.  I prayed she was wearing underwear because I was afraid if it went any higher, I’d be treated to a view I didn’t want to see.

“I was surprised to see you up there.”

“Mandy and I decided to come out and have a little fun tonight,” he said, glancing over to me.  Apparently he hadn’t forgotten I was still at the table after all.

“I’ve been following the articles in the paper about you.  I’m glad you’re okay,” Dana said and I eyed her, trying to figure out what her motive was.  Ever since Alex completely destroyed Riley, I questioned if anyone in their social group actually had a soul. 

“I’m fine now.  Thanks for the concern,” Brandon said. “What brings you out tonight?”

“I’m in town for the weekend.  My brother wanted to come out and get a drink with some of his friends.”

“You’re not in Carver anymore?”

“No.  I’m up at Wichita State.  One more year to go,” Dana continued and I stood up, deciding a bathroom break would be a good thing.  I didn’t need to sit around while Brandon and Dana got reacquainted. 

“Where’re you going?” Brandon asked.

“Bathroom,” I said, and didn’t say anything else as I pushed my chair in and headed to the ladies room. 

I used the bathroom and then stood in front of the sink, washing my hands more vigorously than I realized until I looked down and saw a mountain of suds spilling over my hands.  I quickly rinsed them off and dried my hands before staring at myself in the mirror.  I could see the annoyance on my face.  I wasn’t really sure where it was coming from, but I was fairly certain it had to do with Brandon and the fact that his penis controlled his entire body.  It always had.  While Jesse was always a gentleman, Brandon was constantly making lewd comments about getting laid or the way a girl’s ass looked in tight jeans.  He didn’t differentiate either.  It didn’t matter who the body part belonged to, if it was there, he was checking it out.  I’d even caught him staring at my chest a few times, especially when cleavage was involved.  I knew there was never any romantic interest.  I was just a pair of big boobs he could stare at while whatever perverted thought was going on in that sex-crazed brain of his. 

It shouldn’t have surprised me that the moment Dana even looked at him, he’d completely forget the past and the way her group had treated everyone in high school, walking around as if they owned the school, hurting anyone they wanted and not giving it a second thought.  Maybe Dana wasn’t like that.  I didn’t really know, but she’d associated with those people, something that definitely made me question her integrity.  I questioned her motive too.  Why now, did she think Brandon was worth talking to when in high school she wouldn’t have given him a second glance?  Maybe she’d changed.  Maybe she’d gone to college and realized how not important the drama of high school was.  Maybe not.

One thing I was certain about though was that Brandon obviously hadn’t changed.  I’d thought maybe the army and what had happened to him had helped him mature.  The time we’d spent together since he’d come back made me think maybe he had changed, but watching the encounter with him and Dana showed me Brandon’s penis, not his brain, was still in charge of his life.

I sighed, slumping my shoulders as I finally left the bathroom.  I glanced over to our table and saw Dana was still there.  Her chair was closer to Brandon now and maybe I was imagining it, but she looked as if she was leaning into the table so she could squeeze her boobs together, practically shoving them in his face.  Dana and Brandon were smiling and laughing and the entire display was nauseating.  I decided not to join them just yet.  I needed a ginger ale to settle the uneasiness in my stomach. 

I walked towards the bar, having to walk by Brandon and Dana as I did so, but as I glanced briefly at the table, it didn’t appear Brandon even noticed I was there.  I sat down at the bar and ordered my soda.  It was sitting before me a second later and then I sipped at it while snacking on some pretzels. 

What the hell was I doing here anyway?  I hated bars.  I didn’t even drink and I hated the smoke.  I was only here because Brandon wanted to come.  I’d wanted to spend some time with one of my best friends…a best friend who’d nearly died, but he was more interested in a potential hook-up he could’ve only dreamed about before he became some war hero.  Dana just felt sorry for him or she wanted some of the attention for herself.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t real.  She’d probably never said more than ten words to Brandon before tonight.  She didn’t know him like I did.  She knew nothing about him.  She didn’t know how funny he was or how crazy he could be.  She knew nothing and I could feel myself growing more frustrated because I didn’t want to see him get hurt. 

I took one final sip of my ginger ale and was about to ask for another when I looked across the bar.

“Are you kidding me?” I mumbled to myself as my eyes settled on Derek Collins.  He was sitting next to some chick I didn’t know.  They were smiling and chatting and having a great time.  I hadn’t seen him since we broke up.  Seeing him now didn’t bother me because I was still into him.  I definitely was not into him.  I just didn’t want to see him because he was a jerk and seeing him made me wonder what the hell I’d been thinking ever going out with him in the first place.  I’d always been romantically challenged, but I should’ve had more respect for myself than to continue seeing Derek once I realized what an asshole he was.  He’d never hit me or anything like that, but he
was
intimidating and he just wasn’t a nice guy.  I guess I was so excited a guy was into me that I ignored the fact he didn’t make me feel good about myself.  I’d watched the way Jesse treated Riley.  He adored her.  She could do no wrong in his books when they were together and I wanted that for myself.  That didn’t happen.  I was an afterthought to him.  I wasn’t important to him and I could kill myself for finally sleeping with him.  Biggest mistake of my life.  After the first time, he was more attentive, probably to ensure I’d continue to sleep with him.  He even held the door open for me a few times, but it didn’t last and after a couple of months, I’d had it, especially when I found texts from another girl on his phone.  He didn’t even try and deny he was cheating on me and he had no shame about it either.  I walked out and hadn’t spoken to him since.  I figured I should actually consider myself lucky since I hadn’t run into him.  Carver wasn’t a place you could hide from anyone.