Threat

As the hallway begins to fill with students trying to get to their next class, I spot a tall thin Asian weaving through the crowd. "Brandon!" I call out.

His head turns at the sound of his name. After a few seconds of searching, his eyes focus on me. He raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement, and I motion for him to come forward.

He arches an eyebrow in suspicion and tilts his head, reluctant. I smirk and raise my hands up in surrender. "I won't do anything. Come here."

Brandon still looks like he doesn't believe me, but walks towards me anyways. As soon as he's within reach, I punch him in the arm. "That is for teasing me and implying stuff between me and any guy that I have as a friend." I say, recalling last night's Skype chat; Brandon and I were talking about one of my friends who I met through Jack. I told Brandon how we all play video games together and he teased me by joking that the new guy was interested in new girl—me.

Brandon sighs, but laughs. "I saw that coming. And it's not my fault that you make it too easy." He smirks. "I like teasing you."

I try to keep a straight face and hit him again. "Shut up!" The bell rings and I'm all flustered. "Bye."

Brandon looks at me, then grins and ruffles my hair. "See ya'!" He says as he dodges my hit and runs into his classroom.


After school...

From the top of the stairs of the library, I see Brandon walking down the sidewalk. He sees me and cocks his head, motioning for me to meet him. I step down the stairs and we start walking to the shopping center. "Hey." I say.

"Hey."He greets back, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh, if you hit me again, I'm going to push you into the street."

I laugh. "Is that a threat? Alright. Bring it. I'll just hold onto you and drag you into the street with me."

We walk to Subways, and I buy myself a cookie and a bottle of Coke while Brandon buys 2 footlong sandwiches. "My mom's picking me up at 3 o' clock. You want to stay?" He asks me.

I shrug. "Sure." We walk out and sit down underneath this little tree growing in front of the restaurant next to Subways.

"So, how was the Philippines?" Brandon asks. "Welcome back to 'Murica. Now you can have normal Coke." He says.

I roll my eyes, remembering that while I was in the Philippines, I messaged him and was complaining that the Coke tasted a little weird. "It tasted fine." I answer.

"Do you think all Coke tastes the same anywhere? Because trust me, it doesn't." I laugh at his response as he continues. "Did I ever tell you about how it tasted when I went to Europe last summer?"

"Actually yes, you did." I say.

"Well it tasted like watery corn syrup."

I make a face at his description.

Brandon nods in agreement. "Yup. Tasted horrible."

"So what else did you do in Europe, besides drinking awful Coke?" I ask.

"Well," He takes a bite out of his sandwich. "While I was in Paris, me and my family went to the Eiffel Tower."

My eyes widen. "Wow, that's cool."

He shakes his head and makes a sour face. "No. I hate heights. And being in a tall thin building with holes, no bueno."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"What about roller coasters? Like the ones that go upside down."

He shrugs. "I'm okay with roller coasters. I just don't like heights."

"Oh," I sigh. "I'm not. I'd rather be a loner and wait for everyone outside of the exit of the ride."

I look down at my cookie. Throughout our conversation, I've been picking off pieces and popping them into my mouth, but it tastes odd. I hold the bag out to Brandon. "Do you want the cookie? It doesn't taste as good as before."

He shrugs, then responds, "Why not?" Brandon takes the bag and bites into the cookie. His face scrunches up after chewing. "No wonder you don't like it; it's stale." He narrows his eyes at me. "Couldn't you tell?"

I feel my face heat up, trying to think of a logical excuse. "I was just chipping off pieces of the cookie, not looking into the bag!" I resist the urge to give myself a face palm for my stupid reasoning. Before Brandon can say anything, a yellow punch buggie drives by and I grin, grateful for the distraction. "Yellow one!"

"No, Lexi do not punch—"

Too late. I cut him off with a punch to his arm and start giggling. "Should have spoken faster." Is all I give for an excuse.

Brandon just shakes his head and grins at me. "I will push you into the street next time."


Next Day

I spot Brandon walking down the sidewalk and remember yesterday's events. With that in mind, I hop down the library steps and once I reach the sidewalk, and smile at him.

Brandon smiles back. "Oh hey." Before I can greet him back, he bumps into me and pushes me to the side. "That's for hitting me yesterday."

I grin. "That wasn't the street though."

Brandon shrugs. "Close enough. Besides, if you die, I can't mess with you anymore." He adds.

"Thanks. It's nice to know how much you care." I say sarcastically, attempting to ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach.

"You're welcome. Now come on, I have money and I want Subways." He responds. With that, we start walking.

In a few minutes we're within the shopping center and a few stores down from Subways. "You know," I lean towards him playfully, "You're lucky I didn't hit you; there was a white punch buggie at the library."

"I'd throw you through a window." He says, matter-of-factly, then points his eyebrows down in thought. "Actually no, I'd just hit you and then you'd trip on your shoe lace and fall through a window." He adds.

I let out a small laugh but smack his arm. "I am not that clumsy."

Brandon just grins, and grips his textbook with two hands.

I narrow my eyes at him, afraid of what he intends to do with the textbook, and take a step away from him.

Brandon arches an eyebrow at me, then looks down and realizes what made me jumpy. He smirks at me and asks teasingly, "Why so nervous?"

I fight the urge to slap him and ignore his teasing. Soon enough we enter Subways.

"Did you get the Pewdiepie sweatshirt for Christmas?" Brandon randomly asks.

I look down at my grey hoodie with an outline of a brofist—the famous Youtuber's signature move— on the front, the words "official bro" underneath the floating fist. "No, I got it for my birthday."

"I've barely seen you wear it." He states.

"I don't feel like getting punched in the chest very often." I say. He smirks and I immediately realize I gave him an idea. I step away and point accusingly at him. "Do not punch me in the chest. I swear I will punch you back, and harder too."

Brandon grins at the challenge. "I will lift you into the streets if you do."

I laugh in surprise of his boldness. "Lift?" I question. An image of Brandon's arms around me pops into my mind. I immediately decide that I'm not opposed to the thought.

"I am bigger than you." He says.

"Just because you're a lot taller—not bigger—doesn't mean you can lift me." I challenge.

His grin widens. He takes a step closer towards me, but I hold my hand out. "Stop. Do not step any closer." I warn. He laughs and honors my request. "I'm still sick." I add.

This time, he backs up. "Stay away."

I grin and decide to reverse roles, taking a step forward.

Not backing down. Brandon also steps forward again, and this time, is close enough to be towering over me. He steps closer, making me back up. I push on his chest, trying to push him away.

Someone coughs and it snaps us out of our little dance. We look away from each other to see that an employee is at the register, waiting for Brandon to pay for his food. Brandon goes and does so, while I wait near the door, trying to hide my embarrassment.

We leave Subways. "I almost pushed the door when it said pull." Brandon admits.

I start to laugh and smirk at him. "You just had a girl moment."

He glares down at me and I smile as innocently as I can without bursting into laughter. Brandon smacks my forehead with his sandwich. I gasp in surprise and smack his chest. He grunts, but grins. "I warned you." He says.

I look at him, confused by his words, but all confusion vanishes as Brandon ducks down and scoops me up. I feel his arms around my stomach and my feet leave the ground. I start to squirm around in his grip, squealing and laughing as he just tightens his hold. "You hit me with your sandwich!" I yell, trying to justify my actions. I hit his arms, trying to get him to let go. "Put me down!" I squeal, breathing heavily from laughing and thrashing.  

I feel Brandon's body shaking and realize he's laughing. Before I can continue yelling, he slowly sets me back down on my feet. Although I'm back on stable ground, his arms are still loosely around my waist. I smack his chest for picking me up, but do nothing else due to being out of breath. My hands rest on where I was hitting him, and I realize he hasn't made any attempt to retaliate or remove his arms. I look up to see him staring at me.

Realizing he's been caught, he stiffens. I feel his body start to pull away. I study him closely, trying to figure out what he's thinking. He sees me watching him, and something seems to change. His eyes meet mine. I realize that he was silently making a decision, and he's decided. Brandon stops pulling away, and instead slowly starts to lean down. My eyes focus on his mouth. He continues to get closer and I feel his breath on my lips. I know what he's about to do, but for some reason find myself not moving. His lips find mine, and my body seems to wake up. I finally allow myself to respond to the kiss. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck, while his arms tighten around my waist, pulling me closer.

After we pull apart, I smile shyly at him. He smiles back. We don't say anything, just start to walk back to the library with Brandon's arm around my shoulders. As I nuzzle contently into his side, I remind myself to challenge Brandon's "threats" more often in the future.