A/N: I do not own any of this. It's all Ms. Dessen's. I realize that I am using some of the same dialogue lines, but that is what happens when you write a story like this.
Thanks to all two of the people who were kind enough to write a review. It makes me happy. Happy people are good so please, as long as you continue reading and reviewing I will continue writing. Constructive criticism is helpful.
Just Listen – Owen's Point of View
It had been during one of those rare moments when I wasn't thinking about Annabel. In fact, I hadn't seen Annabel all day because she hadn't been at the wall during lunch. I had been working on the final song list for Sunday while walking out of the school at the end of the day. I had really fallen behind in putting together this week's shows, and since I didn't want to explain why to Rolly yet, I had spent the whole day living and breathing Anger Management.
I had just gotten out of the school when I saw Annabel rummaging through her bag and walking down the stairs out of the main building ahead of me. I continued walking after her but not closing the gap between us. She pulled a bunch of papers out and began studying them as she made her way to the parking lot.
Suddenly I saw her glance up and down real quick. Almost to fast for anyone to really notice. But I did.
When I saw what had made her look away so fast and pick up her pace, I felt my breath unconsciously hitch in my throat.
It was the red Jeep from the day before. She quickly made her way around the bumper, and had almost made it across the narrow street, when something made her turn back towards the Jeep parked at the curb. I was still to far away but I could guess the driver had said something to her.
She stood there looking very uncomfortable as the driver continued to talk to her. I saw her mouth move slightly as she said something back. I unconsciously picked up the pace of my walk feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over me.
When I was within a few feet of the car, I shut off my iPod, curious of what they were saying.
Isn't this the guy that made her sick the other day? Why is she talking to him?
I watched as Annabel turned away, put her papers in her bag, not bothering to zip it up, and began walking. Not towards her original direction however. She began walking towards the closest building, looking as if she was going to faint or get sick again.
I hitched my bag up higher on my shoulder and followed her, trying to look inconspicuous, like I had forgotten something. She hadn't gotten that far before someone from behind her – it looked like that Sophie girl – called out to her.
"What was that?" she said with an ugly sneer. I could hear the anger dripping from her voice.
But Annabel didn't turn around. She only stopped in her tracks, slightly swaying although the light August breeze had come to a standstill.
"What the hell do you think you're doing Annabel?" Sophie asked again, louder this time. "Didn't you get enough that night? You need more or something?"
I didn't know what the hell she was talking about, but I could tell from Annabel's stiff stance that she did. She started to walk forward again, obviously trying to get away from the girl behind her.
"Don't you ignore me," Sophie yelled at her back. "Turn around bitch!"
I wanted to do something, help her maybe, but a group of kids had bunched together in front of me to get in on the action.
Annabel still didn't move yet. She stood there still as stone; a perfect statue. Then Sophie reached out and grabbed Annabel's shoulder. I could visually see her stiffen up more if that was even possible.
Suddenly she whirled around to face Sophie, raised both her arms, and pushed her harshly back away from her. Sophie wasn't expecting this reaction from her and lost her footing for a moment. The surprise on her face was evident.
She got her balance back and strode back towards where Annabel stood.
"Oh my God," she said in a low voice. Annabel started to back away from the advancing figure in front of her. "You'd better – "
I could hear the security guard cart roll up, and the officer yelling for the now massive crowd surrounding Annabel and Sophie to break it up.
"You're a whore," she said in that low voice again. "Stay away from my boyfriend, do you hear me?"
"Sophie…" Annabel said in a voice just as low but lacking the anger Sophie's held. Sophie shook her head and walked quickly past her, bumping her shoulder hard knocking her into the diminishing crowd.
She pushed her way through the people next to her, covering her mouth with her hand like she was going to be sick again. I followed her silently not drawing attention to myself. All the kids were too busy laughing and gossiping to even notice I had left.
I followed her back up to the main building, breaking into a slow jog. She was bent over the grass vomiting. The sight made me feel a little sick too, but I didn't let that affect me. I just had to help her.
I slowed to a walk when I neared her, not wanting to frighten her. I picked her notes up off the ground from where they had fallen behind her, and when she was finished, stretched out my hand to help her up.
---ooo---
When she caught sight of my hand, she quickly looked up into my face, and grabbed my outstretched hand. I closed my fingers over her hers, marveling at how small her hand looked in my gigantic one. I pulled her up so she was standing. I was about to let go when she stumbled. I decided that if she couldn't stand she probably couldn't walk.
"Whoa, " I said, trying to keep my voice even. " Hold on. You better sit down." I backed her up to the building wall behind her and she slid down, leaning against the cool bricks.
I thought about what to do next. Then I remembered the small packet of tissues that was somewhere in my bag. Without saying anything, I dropped my bag on the ground and began rummaging around in it looking for the tissues.
My fingers grasped it near the bottom and I pulled it out. It was a little wrinkled but it would have to do. I leaned back and tried to straighten the pack as much as I could against my chest. I pulled one out and handed it to her. She took it with caution I noticed; maybe I was scaring her. But she took it nonetheless. I offered the whole pack to her, but she said that one was fine. I decided to place the pack by her foot anyway.
"Thank you," She said in a small voice.
"No problem,"
I sat down on the grass next to her, and looked at her face.
"So, um," I started, still looking at her, "are you okay?"
She didn't say anything at first but rather just nodded her head. "Yeah, I just got sick all of a sudden, I don't know…"
"I saw what happened," I blurted out before I could stop myself.
"Oh," She said even quieter than before a magnificent blush rising on her cheeks. "Yeah, that was… pretty bad."
"Could have been worse," I said – memories of what happened last year filled my head.
"You think"
"Sure, you could have punched her." I said softly.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said nodding.
I didn't want her to get the idea in her head. "It's good you didn't, though. Wouldn't have been worth it."
"No?" she said with a question in her voice that made me mentally punch myself. She hadn't even thought of it before I brought it up. I didn't want her to make the same mistake as I had.
"No. Not even if it felt good at the time. Trust me."
The silence filled with understanding that passed between us was interrupted by a quiet vibrating sound. Annabel started rummaging in her bag and pulled out her phone checking the caller ID before picking it up.
From the exasperated look on her face through her whole phone conversation I guess she was talking to her mom. I tried not to listen, not wanting to seem like I was eves dropping in on her call, but I couldn't help hear her when she said something about trying to get a ride home with someone.
I couldn't help but wonder if I would be included in her list of someones. I pulled out my iPod and began messing around with it trying to seem like I wasn't just listening in on her conversation.
We sat there for a moment in silence once again. "So you need a ride." I said quickly. Oh yeah. Nice job…acting like you weren't listening to her private conversation. Way to go.
"Oh no," She said quickly, suggesting that she really did need a ride. "It's just my sister…she's being a pain."
"Story of my life," I said hitting the play button on my iPod. As I slipped it into my pocket I could hear the low first notes of one of my favorite songs flow into my head. I got up, brushed off my jeans, and grabbed my bag. "Come on."
---ooo---
When we got to my car, I got in first and moved the CDs from the passenger seat so Annabel could actually sit down. Then I reached over and opened the door for her.
She got in and reached to put on her seatbelt.
"Hold on. That's sort of busted." I told her quickly before she tried to click the seatbelt into place. With all that had just happened, I forgot that the passenger seatbelt wouldn't work without a little help. In fact my whole car was basically a piece of crap, save for the new stereo system I had installed. I loved my stereo system. It was my baby.
I gestured for her to hand me the belt. I pulled it farther from the seat and slid it into the other part, making sure to not touch her and seem too forward. I reached over to my own door and grabbed the small hammer I kept there for times like these.
I glanced up at her face and saw that it held a frightened expression. I just then realized how strange it must look – me pulling a hammer out from some hidden place in my car and bringing it towards her.
"It's the only way it works." I explained quickly. I tapped the buckle with the hammer and pulled the belt to tighten it. Then I put the hammer back and started the car.
"Wow," she said tugging on the belt to make sure it was actually safe. "How do you get it off."
"Just push the button. That part's easy." I told her. She seemed satisfied with that and took to looking around the inside of my car, while I watched her out of the corner of my eye.
I rolled my window down and rested my arm on my door. It was really nice out.
I tried to see what my car looked like from her point of view. I must seem like a maniac. I have more CDs in my car than most music stores have in stock. I could still faintly hear music still coming from my iPod, and I opted to turn it off and listen to the stereo instead.
I didn't know if Annabel would like the type of music I listen to, but I thought it was worth a try. I was in the middle of a CD, if I could remember correctly. And the music would calm my nerves a little.
Before I made the next turn, I increase the volume of the radio and sat back listening to the music fill the silence that I couldn't stand. I nodded along to the voices resisting the urge to chant along.
"So, what is this?" Annabel asked beside me in what I took to be a surprised and slightly confused voice.
"Mayan spiritual chants." I replied looking over at her.
"What?" She said back. I guess she couldn't hear me over the music.
"Mayan spiritual chants," I repeated, louder. "They're passed down, like oral traditions."
"Oh," she said. "Where did you get this?"
I reached forward and turned the music down a little so we didn't have to yell over it before answering. "The library at the university. I checked it out of their sound-and-culture collection."
"Ah," she replied. It seemed like she was contemplating whether I was playing a joke on her, or if I was really that weird. "So you must really like music." She stated looking back at the massive amounts of CDs stacked around my car.
"Don't you?" I asked, not revealing how much I liked music…not yet at least.
"Sure," She replied. "I mean, everybody does, right?"
"No," I stated back truthfully.
"No?" she asked. I could tell I kind of lost her. I might as well explain.
"Some people think they like music", I started, "but they have no idea what it's really all about. They're kidding themselves. Then there are people who feel strongly about music, but just aren't listening to the right stuff. They're misguided. And then there are people like me." I stopped, deciding that if she wanted to know more she would ask.
I could feel her studying me from where she sat. Wondering.
"People like you", she responded slowly after a moment. "What kind of people are those?"
I put my blinker on and prepared to turn into the middle school where Mallory would be waiting. I thought about how I could explain my obsession to her before we would be interrupted by Mallory.
"The kind who live for music and are constantly seeking it out, anywhere they can. Who can't imagine life without it. They're enlightened." Yes in the simplest terms, the most direct definition, that's what it was.
"Ah," her voice betrayed nothing. She actually got what I was saying. I knew she was different. Most people would think I was totally crazy but she acted like I had just told her what the weather was going to be like tomorrow.
"I mean when you really think about it, music is the great uniter. An incredible force. Something that people who differ on everything and anything else can have in common."
She nodded and I took that as a cue to continue.
"Plus there's the fact that music is a total consent. That's why we have such a strong visceral connection to it, you know? Because a song can take you back instantly to a moment, or a place, or even a person. No matter what else has changed in you or the world, that one song stays the same, just like that moment. Which is pretty amazing, when you actually think about it."
I could have gone on talking about this for days. But I thought I might save that for some other time. If there ever was another time. I hoped I hadn't completely turned her off with ability to ramble and intense mania with somewhat crazy music.
"What I mean to say," I began to tell her, "is yes. I like music."
"Got it," She said in return. And I could honestly tell she did.
"And now," I said as we turned into the middle school parking lot, " I'll apologize in advance."
She seemed a little surprised at what I said. "Apologize? For what?"
I turned the wheel slightly so I would come to a stop next to the curb. "My sister," I told her. I really hoped Mallory wasn't in one of her spaz moods. I didn't want her to be weird in front of Annabel. I watched as Annabel turned to look out the front window. Probably trying to figure out which little girl could be Mallory.
Just then, there was a loud noise outside her window followed by an excited voice.
"Oh my God!" Mallory gasped, "It's you!" Right then I knew that my hopes of Mallory acting somewhat calm were in vain. I think I could probably understand why though. The only other person who ever rides in my car with me is Rolly, so to see someone new sitting next to me was most likely a pleasant surprise. But I still couldn't understand what she meant by it's you.
Before I could warn Annabel any more, Mallory jumped away from her window and hurried to scramble into the back. The second she got in her shrieking continued.
"Owen, oh my God! You didn't tell me you were friends with Annabel Greene!"
"Mallory," I said to her looking back at her in the mirror, "Take it down a notch."
Of course she didn't listen to me as always. "This is unbelievable," she exclaimed again, this time leaning forward so she was in Annabel's face. "I mean, it's you!"
"Hi," Annabel said.
"Hi!" she shrieked, "Oh my God, I love your work, I really do."
"Work?" I asked, trying my best to keep up.
"Owen come on," Mallory said sighing. "She's a Lakeview Model, hello? And she's done tons of local ads. And that commercial, you know the one I love, with the girl in the cheerleading uniform?"
"No," I said back.
"That's her! I can't believe this. I can't wait to tell Shelley and Courtney, oh my God!" Saying this Mallory pulled out her cell phone to call her friends. "Oh! Maybe you can say hello to them, that would be so cool and—"
I turned around to face her. "Mallory."
"Just a sec," she said punching in numbers. "I just want to—"
"Mallory."
"Hold on Owen, okay?"
That was it, not only was she being loud and obnoxious but now she was being just plain rude. I reached out, took the phone out of her hands and place it in the console.
"Come on! I just wanted her to say hello to Courtney."
"No." I said sternly.
"Owen!"
"Put on your seatbelt," I replied trying to get her to settle down. "And take a breath."
With that I pulled away from the curb and was pleased to see that Mallory had done what I asked, even if she was being a brat about doing it.
Annabel glanced back at her, and Mallory immediately brightened.
"Is that a Lanoler sweater?" she asked quickly.
"A what?" Annabel asked, obviously as lost as I was.
She reached forward and began to, what seemed like pet Annabel's sweater. "This. It's gorgeous. Is it a Lanoler?"
"You know, I'm not—" Annabel started before she was interrupted by Mallory's hand pulling out the label of her sweater checking to see if she was right.
"It is! I knew it. Oh my God, I want a Lanoler sweater so bad, I have forever—"
"Mallory," I said jumping in, "don't be a label whore."
I saw Mallory's jaw drop, and I knew what was coming. "Owen! R and R."
I looked at her again and, with a sigh, decided it wasn't worth fighting with her so I started again. "What I meant to say, Mallory, is that your focus on labels and material goods troubles me."
"Thank you," she replied. "And I understand and appreciate your concern. But, as you know, fashion is my life."
Annabel turned to me. "R and R?" she asked.
Before I could answer Mallory jumped in and did it for me.
"Rephrase and Redirect. It's part of his Anger Management. If he says something inflammatory, you can tell him it hurts your feelings, and he has to say it another way."
I looked at her in the mirror again. "Thank you Mallory."
"You're welcome," she returned smiling and bouncing up and down.
We drove in silence for a few moments while I let Annabel try and catch up. It has been awhile since I'd really spent time with anyone new, let alone with someone new and not a member of my family, so I could imagine how confused she might be. Most people think Anger Management is just about someone telling you happy things and trying to make you not mad anymore, but it's more than that. It's different.
"So I really appreciate the ride," Annabel said, breaking the silence. "I don't know how I would have gotten home otherwise."
"It's no problem," I replied. "I just have to make a couple of—"
"Oh my God," Mallory exclaimed excitedly from the back seat. "I'm going to get to see your house?"
"No," I replied shortly.
"But we're taking her home! I'm here!"
"We're dropping you off first." I told her.
"Why?" she said.
"Because, I have to go by the station, so Mom said to bring you by the store."
I turned off the main road, as Mallory started to whine. "But Owen—"
"No buts, It's already decided." I told her.
She started to pout, and feel back into her seat, deciding to take the time to be a drama queen. "It's so not fair."
"Life isn't fair," I told her before I could stop myself, "Get used to it."
"R and R!" She shot at me.
"No." I shot back.
I reached forward to turn up the music, and the chirping of the Mayan crickets began again. We drove along for a while, no one saying anything. The chanting comforted me and brought my annoyance level down a bit.
Then out of the corner of my eye, I say a blur of pink lean forward to say something to Annabel. "When you did that commercial," Mallory asked into her ear, "did you get to keep the clothes from that?"
"Mallory!" I snapped.
"What?"
"Can you just relax and listen to the music?"
"This isn't music! This is crickets and screaming." She then turned to Annabel and started speaking again. "Owen is a total music Nazi. He won't let anyone listen to anything other than the weird stuff he plays on his radio show."
"You have a radio show?" Annabel asked me, sounding intrigued.
"It's just a local thing," I told her quickly.
"It's his life," Mallory said to her. "He spends all week getting ready for it, worrying about it, even though it's on when normal people aren't even up yet."
"I'm not playing music for normal people," I countered. "I'm playing music for people who are—"
"Enlightened, we know," Mallory said dramatically, rolling her eyes. "Me personally? I listen to 104Z."
She went on to tell her all about how she loved the music they played on that joke they call a radio station, and how she could dance to it. When she got to how much she adored that fake, plastic, manufactured, Bitsy Bonds, I had had enough.
""Bitsy Bonds isn't a singer, Mallory. She's a product. She'd fake. She has no soul; she doesn't stand for anything."
"So?" She said, obviously not getting my point.
"So," I said, "she's more famous for her belly button than her music." I hoped that would drive it home, but as always Mallory was too blind to see the flaws of her idol.
"Well, she does have a great belly button." Mallory said as we approached the store our mom owned.
I just shock my head, amazed at how well she had been brain washed. We pulled into a parking space in front of the shop. "Okay, we're here." I told Mallory, hinting at her to get lost. It took a minute of her complaining to Annabel about how she wouldn't wear the clothes my mom had in the store even if she was dead. I pointed out to her that she would have bigger problems than what she was wearing if she was dead, but she didn't say anything in return.
She finally got the hint, said good-bye to me and Annabel, and out of the car. When she got to the door to the little shop, she turned back and waved excitedly to Annabel. She waved back, and I pulled back onto the main road.
"Again," I started, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she told me. "She's cute."
I headed back towards the station. Anticipating what the rest of the ride was going to be like. I knew I'd have to give a blow by blow to Mallory, so she could know how a real model acts.
---ooo---
A/N: Yeah I know I kind of end it right in the middle of the car ride. But this is already really long, and I'm tired. So...I'm submitting this now, and hopefully in the next few days I will write the rest of the car ride scene. It's pretty intense, and it is also not easy to change all the "I said" "she said" things around. It's confusing. Please have a little patience...it's good for your constitution!
Thanks Again.
