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In case you hadn't noticed, once I get myself on a path to something, it's hard to reroute myself, especially if there's mystery or intrigue or adventure or stupidity involved. I became a certifiedcrazy person member of Scooby Doo's gang during the Brandon debacle and The Banshee, despite her denial of involvement in the whole thing, was the one driving the Mystery Machine to the scene of the crime.

There's only one way to solve this, you know, she antagonized.

Oh yeah, how's that?

Just start knocking on everyone's doors until Brandon answers, she suggested sarcastically.

I ignored her, but realized she had a good idea. Sort of.

I boxed up some cookies (my excuse and cover) and headed down to the first floor. If the name on the call box hadn't been changed, if maybe he was pointing the unit number (maybe he didn't know his name wasn't on it?) maybe his name was on the door.

Once again, making sure the coast was clear, I snuck down to the first floor and casually started walking the hall. I took the back stair case down so I would end up starting at the end of the hall and work my way towards Bart's apartment and the elevators.

I made my way all the way down the hall and not a single unit listed someone with a first initial of B. Until I got to the second to last unit. The unit next to Bart's. This was it. This was Brandon's apartment. It had to be.

What if it's not? The Banshee asked. Then what are you going to do? You just gonna knock on the door and hope he answers?

Yes. That's exactly what I'm going to do.

Except I didn't. I just stood there. Staring at his door like an idiot. I was chickening out. I quietly leaned my ear against his door to hear if he was in there, but it was silent, a sign I took to mean he wasn't home.

Perfect. He probably came home 10 minutes ago and found you lurking outside his door and turned and ran the other way, psycho, The Banshee said making fun of me.

Just as I raised my hand to knock on his door, Bart's door opened and Bart came out. I nearly pissed my pants and screamed, he scared the hell outta me. He saw me jump and gave me a smirk.

"You lookin for Brandon?" he asked, almost teasing.

"Oh, um," I laughed nervously. I noticed Bart look at the container of cookies in my hand. "What? Who?"

"Brandon?" he repeated, nodding towards the apartment door I had just been lingering in front of.

"Oh, no," I said. "I um... was... just... making cookies!" I exclaimed, "And I... made too many! And thought that maybe, um... thought I'd bring some down to share with you since you did such a great job snaking out my drain the other day," I said, handing the cookies to him.

"The drain? That was over a month ago. At least," he replied taking the cookies suspiciously.

"Well, better late than never, right?" I said, backing away towards the lobby and elevator. "I gotta go, I left my oven on," I smiled. "Cookies," I said, turning to walk away.

"Brandon's outta town this weekend. Left yesterday. If I see him, I'll let him know you stopped by," Bart said.

Shit. He knew. I just laughed and kept pounding on the elevator "door open" button, hoping it would open immediately. Which of course, you know never works.

Once inside the elevator, I let out a deep sigh of relief. I could feel my face was totally flushed and my heart was pounding.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You are such an idiot...

I couldn't have agreed with her more.