“Brandon, who’s that again?” Emmitt asked. He paused to think. “Oh yeah, I remember him. He’s the kid with the big ears and a bandaid on his nose. I keep forgetting his name.”
Jioni leaned back in her seat once again as she listened. The room was silent, but the paranoia of hearing footsteps began to creep in. As Emmitt started rambling about Brandon, she tuned him out; outside created a distraction, and she paid attention to the unusual noise—the ruckus picked up, and so did her concern.
“I called him Brand-aid once because of his bandaid nose. That guy hasn’t spoken to me since. We were twelve at the time, Jioni, twelve. That guy can hold a grudge.”
“Yeah, it’s best not to question or reference his bandaid,” Jioni said, only responding to the last sentence. She eventually drew her attention back to him.
