“Fuck yes,” Bea replied maybe too quickly. She needed to not make this weird. It wouldn’t be fucking weird if it were Noah or Ty, so why the hell should Brandon be any different? Except for the little fact that he brought up a lot of complicated thinking in her head that the other two didn’t generate. And he’d given her gifts. She needed to pull it together and quick. “It’s St. Patrick’s, might as well take advantage of that fact.” Even if she wasn’t Irish, not even a little.
It used to be a holiday she’d spend in the bars with her closest circle of friends; people she wasn’t even sure were still alive. Given some of their survival instincts she was inclined to believe that no, they didn’t make it this far into the zombie outbreak.
The mix of booze and popcorn left a weird after taste in her mouth, but she was ignoring it, since ignoring one or the other wasn’t going to make this any less strange.
“Yeah, I do,” she told him with a little nod. “My mother loved all the romantic black and white films, and the musicals too.” She used to say they were more high class then the newer films, and to Lynette Albrecht class was everything. “And you see my point in making you watch it, right?” she asked him with a small smirk, not registering anything strange about the smile he’d given her.
“Not everything can be judged by what you think you know about it.” Words she needed to remember more often actually, she’d gotten into the habit of thinking she knew more than she did. It was dangerous.
She pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear, and curled her feet a little further under herself. “I know that now, but younger me didn’t,” she said. “My whole fucking life was practically decided for me until I rebelled against all that shit.” Sometimes it had felt like she was just a pawn. “Sometimes I wish the adventure would settle the fuck down, to be honest. I don’t like feeling like something could go monumentally wrong and being the one responsible to put shit back together if it does.” She missed Evan in that respect; he was better suited to being in charge.
The snorted laugh was out of her control, and she raised an eyebrow along with it at his admission. “Superman was such a fucking boy scout though,” she shot back. “I always liked Batman better. Probably because his whole world was darker and fucking grittier than Superman.” She couldn’t help the way she sized him up a little, considering what he’d said.
“You could probably pull off the secret identity pretty fucking easily if you tried. You’d look good with your hair gelled and wearing a suit.” It was undeniable that Brandon was good looking. Hell, she’d thought that for a long time. He’d probably fit right in on the runways that Bea remembered.