A/N Welcome back. This is the longest chapter I have ever written in any story- so it'll take at least 30 minutes. I do have a co writer who edited and added detail to 2 POV's, but the rest is my work. Thanks to everyone for convincing me to start up again and Boch W. for organizing the return of the story. My Beta, Liv, as always a big thank you. This chapter is mostly tying up loose ends and preparing for the future. Happy reading!
Jesse's POV
Baby, Baby, Baby, oh, I thought you'd always be mine.
Great way to wake up. Monday morning. I felt the familiar lump in bed next to me and eventually turned around to see little Rosie curled into a ball, with her blonde princess curls cascading down the back of her Pooh and Tigger pajamas.
"Rosie…" I whispered, not wanting to wake her up, but wanting to turn off the Justin Bieber alarm clock that she brought into my room. I reached over her and hit snooze before lying down again with my hands above my head, staring at the white ceiling.
After everything that happened that night, well, Rosie's kind of become my rock. It started when I stumbled through my door that night and crawled up to my room. I didn't expect anything from my family, they were all asleep. But around 3 AM, sure enough, I heard the pitter patter of little feet and eventually felt her hugging my right arm. I skipped school Thursday- Valentine's day. I'm assuming my pre-ordered flowers arrived at the Rivera household.
I hoped it stung a little when Alicia saw them. Like rubbing salt in the wound. But then I skipped Friday too and spent the whole day writing out crappy lyrics to the beat of a Johnny Cash song. Break up songs. I felt like Taylor Swift or Adele.
Then Saturday morning I went home to Boston for the weekend and stayed at my grandparents'. I just got back home Sunday in time for dinner and now here I am.
A brand new phone lay turned off in a box on my bedside table. I knew there would be a plethora of messages from "friends", but decided to live for a few more minutes in solitude.
As the alarm went off again, signaling it was 6:30, I got up and left Rosie tucked in. I felt surprisingly awake as I took a shower, walked Ralphie, and then assessed my closet. Typically I would go with a polo, fitted tee, or sweater matched with chinos or designer jeans, but today I pulled over a chair and reached to the top of my closet. I pulled down a box labeled Boston Clothes. Dad insisted on a new, "appropriate" wardrobe when I moved here, but today I felt like being the old rule breaking, womanizing me.
I'd intended to leave that kid behind in Boston, but I guess my latest visit picked up that part of me again. I rifled through the box until I found a simple black t-shirt with Pink Floyd written on it and some Levis. Instead of Sperry's I put on a pair of my ratty, black Adidas shoes.
Staring into the mirror, I looked like my old self. A little more muscular, maybe taller, but other than that I looked like Jesse pre-New York. I looked like a soldier coming from battle. Instead of dealing with my mother puking in the bathroom, yelling at me for the weather being bad, drinking her heart out, and almost becoming foreclosed every month, I was dealing with a backstabbing friend and an disloyal ex-girlfriend. Nothing in comparison, really, I had faced worse in the past. And that… that is what would get me through the day- knowing that I'd made it through an alcoholic mother, absent father, and endless learning disorders.
As I walked downstairs, I saw my dad reading the paper. He was dressed in a plain blue button-down shirt over jeans. His light blond hair was parted at the side and gelled neatly to ensure no flyaways.
"Hey, Champ. I saved the sports section for you," he said with that winning optimism in his voice, without even looking up at me. I respected my dad – always paying for me to go to private school, not hiding me from his wife and really making an effort at trying to be my friend since I moved in. But then again, he was the reason my mom had become an alcoholic and that I'd had to see the stuff I'd seen.
"Thanks," I replied glumly. I guess that got his attention, and he looked up at me. A worried expression crossed his brow.
"What is this? Where is that lively grin?" He asked, trying to get me to laugh and I responded with a weak smile. My father seemed somewhat satisfied, probably guessing it was just Monday Morning Blues, and looked out the window.
"Your friend Kendal is here. Arriving early today. You know he came Thursday and Friday too. I would have thought you would have told him you were taking two mental-health days."
For someone bright, my dad really was oblivious. Eventually my silence forced my dad to look at me. Before I even knew it he was walking out our large front door and towards the limo, sending it away.
He came back in and gave me a sympathetic smile, "C'mon, Champ. I'll drive you and we can grab some breakfast at Rod's Diner."
When I got to school, I tried to go unnoticed. I pulled the hood of my Burton snow jacket over my buzzed hair. I made it to my blue metal locker unnoticed and started grabbing my books for the day. As I was crouching to pick up my French book I saw light brown boots to my left. I looked up and saw dark denim jeans and a grey blazer- Alicia.
When I straightened up, I had to do a double take to tell if it was actually her. I felt a shooting pain go through my body. My eyes stung with fresh tears, but I dug my thumbnail into my hand to keep it together. Alicia didn't look like herself. Her hair was a little greasy and in a loose bun, instead of her glossy waves that usually fell against her back and over her shoulder. She only had a small amount of makeup on, but the main difference was the way she was carrying herself- without any confidence. She looked worn out, tired and disgraced. I mean, she was still hot- but not the same girl.
I avoided making contact with her big, brown eyes, but skimmed them to notice they were puffy and red, from crying.
"Jesse…" Alicia whispered, "I need to tell you something."
"I know what happened," I replied, harshly shutting my locker and walking away from her. But she wasn't done with me yet. She pulled my arm back and didn't let go of it, squeezing it with one hand, and walked around to face me and used her other hand to hold my jaw to ensure that I was paying attention.
"We were broken up and I was… Jesse, I was so upset," A humorless chuckle escaped her, and she started blinking frantically. I stood and stared above her, as she continued, "Massie and the girls didn't know what to do with me! I mean, Dylan was annoyed, but they weren't really dating, so she…. Ehmagawd that doesn't matter. 'Cause Jesse I… I…. I love you…" That made me freeze. She was blinking faster, but the waterworks were coming down now. She was smiling, and looking up at the ceiling, trying to control herself, but it was too late. Her lips were quivering, and I didn't know how to feel as tear after tear fell from her eyes. Anger, sadness, betrayal, love… instead all I showed was paralyzed shock. I was looking at her right now. Half of me wanted to reach out and hold her, but I heard a nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me not to. Then her body shuddered and she kept talking through the heaving sobs. "-So much. Jesse. I love you so much. You see beyond my looks and you get me. You don't make me feel… you don't make me feel hot, instead… beautiful. And your smile… those dimples… I get Goosebumps whenever I see them. Even after we've been dating for weeks they still make me giddy and nervous and alive. And… and the way you speak with that twang, or chew that Big Red gum, or when you bore me with Red Sox talk, and the way you tease me and make fun of me… no one does that… the way you open up to me and look at me... Jesse, I am scared by how much I love you!"
I heard that nagging voice in my mind telling me what to say, "No, you don't… you wouldn't kiss… I mean, sleep with…"
"Jesse, I am terrified of losing you, please… please… can we just forget it… please, Jesse. I mean, you're not a virgin and now I'm not either…" Another sob shook her body. "Jesse, I called you right after," she muttered. "I wanted to tell you and you to tell me it… it was okay."
I shyly mumbled to her- scared to even talk to her, "I went to your house, I saw the bed, him, and the wrapper. I was going to tell you I was sorry for our fight," I told her, and after hearing that, she dropped her head into her hands and sunk to the floor, not caring what anyone thought. That was the first time I realized we were in the middle of the English hallway surrounded by staring bystanders. I felt redness find its way to my cheeks as I reached down and pulled her up. I guess I was thinking about closure or I genuinely just wanted to hold her again- because I missed her being apart for just a few days or something, but I put my arms around her, and let her cry into my shoulder as I rocked her back and forth inhaling her Angel perfume mixed with her Jasmine shampoo. She was holding me so tight around my torso and I felt wetness from her tears find its way through my shirt onto my chest. When the bell rang I looked into her dark eyes, stroked her damp cheek and walked away. I didn't want to turn around, but I felt her staring at me as I took step after step away from her. I was glad I didn't allow myself to cry; it made me seem strong on the exterior. If only I felt the same way inside.
Ken's POV (this is the last Ken POV ever- enjoy)
My stomach churned slightly as I contemplated the various thoughts in my mind. I clutched at my abdomen. I felt a bit sick and was sure than my skin tone was an unhealthy shade of green. My arms tingled every time I thought of Alicia. I did have a little crush on her, I mean, she was hot and off-limits, but what happened… it wasn't supposed to happen. I could hardly believe what I had done, it was all so surreal. I could tell Jesse was mentally murdering me any time we crossed paths and Alicia took great care to ignore me, as though nothing had happened.
I had been trying to convince myself of that very same fact for the past week. Of course, that was impossible. All of the guys were ignoring me, remaining loyally tied to Jesse- well, Andrew stood by me and Austin remained neutral, but Kyle and Cam... I didn't blame them, either. I mean, I had screwed up big time. I couldn't even blame Alicia. After all, she had just broken up with Jesse and she was all stupidly fragile and emotional, or however girls are after a break up.
I had been trying to figure out how to make it up to Jesse so that he could forgive me. So far, I'd come up blank. He was already rich enough to buy anything he wanted and he obviously didn't want to have Alicia back. Plan an "I'm sorry" party? No, that was stupid. Incredibly stupid. Why did I even consider that? Probably because it was the best and only idea I had.
I was totally screwed.
I sighed and looked around to take my mind off of the problems at hand. I was in French class. The bell hadn't rung yet and people were pretty much just milling around the desks, talking to their friends. I watched absentmindedly as Olivia Ryan flipped one of her blond locks behind her shoulder. As her head turned slightly, she caught a hold of my gaze. Smiling flirtatiously, she waggled her fingers in a sort of wave. I managed a grim smile back. Apparently word hadn't gotten fully around that I'd slept with Alicia yet. Despite what she claimed, everyone knew that Olivia was still desperate to please Alicia and hopefully get back in with her clique. No way was Olivia going to flirt with me if she thought it might upset Alicia, even though she's had a crush on me since 8th grade.
Looking away, I scanned the room. The florescent lighting gave a dead and hollow look to the room. Up front, there was a large whiteboard with varying words inscribed in French, the blue, white, and red flag stretched across half of its surface and a bright picture of our teacher, Madam Rose (a total MILF) below the Eiffel Tower. The dark wood-paneled walls were scratched where numerous students had brushed against their surface, but it still shined with wax where the janitors had greased them. Various posters of various hot spots in France and helpful tips for learning the language itself were scattered across the walls. I sighed; nothing in the room was helping get my thoughts off of Jesse and Alicia. Why did school have to be so boring?
I glanced up as a figure entered the room. Discreetly, I scowled. With a mess of floppy, and slightly greasy, blond hair and the obvious brown eyes, it was almost hard not to recognize Derrick Harrington. At the moment, he radiated pure arrogance and strutted across the room to his desk, which was, unfortunately, positioned directly next to mine. I forced my eyes to stay trained on the board up front as the boy walked over. I tried reading the same sentence over and over in order to keep my concentration.
Out of my peripheral I saw Derrick get stopped by a group of what I presumed were girls, judging by the ridiculous pitch of their squealing and giggling. I inwardly rolled my eyes at the way girls acted when Derrick was around. They normally acted like that around me, but not since I royally screwed up.
One of the girls, one with seemingly dark hair, stepped up to Harrington, causing me to glance over. The girl—was Amelia her name? —Had placed her hands on his chest and was whispering in what she thought was a seductive manner, with her lips pouted slightly, but instead she resembled something close to a duck. I resisted the urge to laugh when Harrington pushed her off with some cocky remark and she tried desperately to cling on.
Derrick continued to walk to his seat. Widening my eyes slightly, I realized it looked like I was staring at him. Sharply, I turned my head back to the front of the room, trying to keep my face emotionless. Slowly, as though he was deliberately trying to annoy me, he strutted over to his desk before plopping down in his seat, he was probably grinning, too, all happy and gloating to see me so obviously uncomfortable. I was sure Jesse had told him. The two seemed to have become best pals the last time we spoke, so no doubt Derrick already knew about me and Alicia. That smug bastard.
I swallowed roughly, feeling my Adam's apple bob, and forced myself not to think about it . . . not as if that had worked so far. I impatiently tapped my fingers on my wide desk before picking up a small fountain pen and twirling it around in my hands to release my anxiety. Beside me, Derrick turned to look. I could practically feel the smirk that was planted on his face. He was enjoying this way too much. I furrowed my brow and nearly growled at him, but instead took to reading that same sentence on the board to keep myself, now, from punching Derrick right in the middle of his annoying face.
The French language is a descendant of the spoken Latin language of the Roman Empire—Le français est un évier de la langue parlée latine de l'Empire romain.
"Hey, Kendal."
My head whipped to the side to catch sight of the famous Harrington grin, smiling right at me. Derrick had apparently leaned over, breaking the space that separated the desks, and was looking at me with expecting eyes.
"Oh, look, pretty-boys can talk. I guess you have some amount of a brain after all," I replied viciously. "Fuck off, Harrington."
Derrick smiled, "I'm crushed, Kendal," He placed a clenched fist over his heart. "How could you say such things?"
"It's Ken."
He smiled smugly. "Like the Barbie, right?"
He paused, obviously waiting for my reaction. I just clenched my jaw and concentrated harder than ever on the board at the front of the room. The French language is a descendant of the spoken Latin language of the Roman Empire—Le français est un évier de la langue parlée latine de l'Empire romain.
Derrick leaned over further, our shoulders touching. "I heard about what you did," he whispered. "Good one, Kenny-boy. What I'd give to have a go at that."
I pressed my teeth together even tighter. A piece of my cheek got caught between one of the rows, causing me to promptly bite down on it, and I could taste the strong, coppery tint of blood. How could he say that about Alicia when he was supposed to be Jesse's friend? Besides, didn't he have Massie or—no, Austin took her. That didn't mean that he needed to go around banging his best friend's girlfriend—or ex. Pausing, I scowled when I realized what I had just thought. You're such a hypocrite, I told myself.
"Mind your own business, Harrington. You have nothing to do with it."
Derrick opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced when Jesse walked into the room.
Jesse, shit.
As soon as I saw him, I was immediately drowned in a fresh wave of guilt. It was so obvious that Jesse was heartbroken. A solemn air of solitude replaced his normally easy-going persona. His eyes were obviously downcast and very wary. The edges on his face seemed to have somehow hardened and he looked so much older, like the weight of the world had finally taken his toll. The usual warmth and dancing sparkle was lost from his chocolate colored eyes and even his signature dimples were hard to see. And it was all because of me.
Even his clothes looked dreary. What was usually some casual preppy attire, such as a black polo and khakis, had become grey jeans and a black t-shirt bearing the logo of some band I had never heard of. Jesse scanned the room. His eyes fell over each of the students with disinterested agony, occasionally he caught someone's eye, but they were careful to look away lest they be penetrated by his depressing stare. Somehow, he managed to slide his gaze right past me and straight on to Derrick. The blond smiled brightly and motioned Jesse over to sit with him.
Jesse, looking wiped, began to move before Madam Rose cleared her throat rather loudly. She raised her bright blonde eyebrows and placed a hand on her curvy hip. Jesse sighed impatiently. I heard him vaguely mutter "désolé" before scurrying to meet Derrick.
Longingly, I watched him. I urged him silently to just look this way while also hoping he hadn't noticed me at all. Slightly dragging his feet on his way over to Derrick's desk, I saw him hesitate ever so slightly. His eyes flickered towards me before landing back on Derrick. I saw him swallow and press his lips together tightly, a clear sign of his anger. All hopes were washed out of me. Almost silently, Derrick and Jesse exchanged a few words before they both stood and began walking towards the back of the room. Derrick put his arm around Jesse's shoulder and offered small condolences. As I watched them leave, Derrick turned with a smug grin on his face from clear triumph, before turning back to tend to Jesse once more.
It was going to be a long day.
Despite the fact that Jesse was still unbearably angry with me, I managed to summon up the courage to wait for him outside of the doorway, in an effort to sneak-attack him into a conversation. I mean, this couldn't go on forever. The guy was my best friend and I had made a massive mistake. He needed to know that and how extremely sorry I was and how Derrick was a backstabbing fake and. . . . I sighed.
Even though I highly doubted Jesse would ever forgive and I knew he would never trust me again, I still had to manage this one last conversation. I had inevitably ended our friendship when I slept with Alicia, I knew that, but he still needed to know that I wasn't some man-whore bastard that was just waiting to get my hands on Alicia. It had just happened.
So I waited patiently. I saw the heavy stream of students surge past me, all gossiping or laughing or worrying about homework. As more people walked out of the classroom, occasionally sending me odd glances, my fear grew. I had gotten to know Jesse fairly well over the past few months, but he could still be pretty unpredictable when he wanted to. What was he going to do? Yell at me? He'd be letting me off easy if he did that, and Jesse wasn't the type to hold a grudge, being generally easy-going and all, but after something like this- I don't know. But we were at school, and I knew he had promised when he moved here to keep the governor's prestigious reputation, and stop his big city aggression from coming out. This means no fighting in public, but maybe he'd punch me. I totally deserved it, he should have a few punches, break my nose, knock out my teeth. It would prove he's tough, which wasn't something you would ever want to turn down, and I could always get them fixed easily. It would verify that he loves Alicia, too.
I groaned. Fuck, fuck, fuck (A/N If any readers want me to stop using this word or swear words in general, please PM me). How could I have slept with the chick he loves? What the hell was wrong with me? There's only one rule in friendship and I had to go and fuck that up. Way to go, Ken.
As I silently beat myself, I noticed the new "best buds", Derrick and Jesse, walk out. Derrick was grinning about something and Jesse was smiling feebly. Shit, why did Pretty Boy have to be with him? Why couldn't he just leave Jesse alone so that we could have a normal conversation on our own?
Almost immediately, Jesse's eyes darted up and his gaze landed on me. Instantaneously, his features hardened and his eyes went cold. The sad smile slipped off his face like it was ice and was replaced with a stony glare. Derrick tightened his grip on Jesse's shoulders and mimicked his expression, though a certain trace of arrogance was still left. I shifted nervously under their gaze and suddenly regretted anything and everything I had ever done with such a new and powerful force that it nearly took me by surprise.
"Err—Jesse? Can we talk?" I asked rubbing the back of my neck nervously. Jesse opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.
Derrick answered for him. "What makes you think that Jesse would want to talk to you?" he practically sneered.
I glared at him. "Listen, he is – was my friend before he even met you, so just shut up."
Harrington's gaze went fiery and he began to reply, but he barely got a syllable out before Jesse interrupted him. "It's fine, Derrick," he said. He turned his frigid gaze on me. "So what do you want to talk about?"
"Err—could this be private?" I said, looking pointedly at Derrick.
Jesse studied me for a moment, before turning to the blond and murmuring something in a quiet tone that I couldn't hear. Derrick, for a moment, looked as though he was going to refuse and fight back, but, after a touch of thoughtfulness crossed his face, he nodded solemnly and walked to the cafeteria down the hall. I watched him go in silence. As soon as he went through the oak doors, I turned back to Jesse and opened my mouth to explain. But for once I was at a loss for words. My mind came up considerably blank and, as I stared at Jesse, I realized more than ever the pain I had caused him and how nothing could ever fix that.
"What?" he asked sharply, apparently put-off by my pensive stare.
"I—err," I began awkwardly. My voice sounded strangely scratchy and hoarse, probably from anticipation. I clear my throat loudly and started again. "So . . . I guess Alicia told you, huh?"
He stared at me with burning hatred lit in his eyes. I didn't know his eyes could even do that. I mean, I've seen him mad, like when the New England Patriots lost or when his guitar strings broke. That look-that I was getting now- was almost punishment enough, almost. After a lengthened pause during which I fidgeted nervously, dreading his next comment, he said, "She didn't need to. I mean, she called me right after but I already knew. I saw you leaving her house and I saw the condom wrapper that, apparently, you used. I guess that spared you the trouble of telling me, though. Eh, best friend?"
I sighed and ran my fingers through my wavy hair. I hated this conversation. I desperately wanted everything to go back to normal. "I'm so sorry. Look, it wasn't even anything. I mean, right after, I immediately regretted it. If I could go back in time, I would totally just stop. I wasn't—"
"Stop with the lame excuses, Ken."
"Jesse, seriously. She wasn't even into it! She just sort of lied there while we made love—"
Suddenly, Jesse had grabbed me by the neck of my shirt and shoved me up against the cool, metal lockers. Some kid's padlock was shoved up against my back, definitely giving me a bruise. Closing my eyes slightly at the throbbing pain in my back, I sucked in a breath. Peeking one eye open, I saw Jesse's livid face mere inches from mine. Even though I've never been a coward, something in his expression made me terrified and I found myself wanting frantically to run away. Leaning closer to me, he pressed his lips against my ear.
"What you two did isn't called making love," he said bitterly. "You banged her, you screwed her. You took advantage of her. That's not called love," He suddenly pulled back to look me dead in the eye. The hallways were almost empty now and I was glad that not everyone would have to see me be humiliated like this. "She loves me, not you. Got it? Don't even pretend like you love her, I know you don't, and she sure as hell doesn't love you... I don't have to ask anyone to know who started it." He smiled menacingly then rolled his eyes, "You are such a disloyal bastard. You know that, Ken?"
Jesse let go and walked away, leaving me in a daze. The worst part was the betrayal I saw in his eyes, that was the roots of his anger, even if he hid it behind some macho facade. I stared at the wall ahead of me for a moment, millions of nonessential thoughts running through my mind. Then I noticed a notice for a Semester Abroad to France. There was nothing for me here and before I knew it I had scribbled Kendal Jackson on one of the blank spaces. Finally, after several long minutes, I managed to regain my composure. Slowly, I walked to the cafeteria door. Though lunch mattered now, it was already half over. I felt like a zombie, everything seemed too surreal. The lights were too bright, noises a bit too loud. I could hardly keep up a conversation with the few who tried, unsuccessfully, to interact with me. I couldn't even manage a grunt.
Routinely, I sat beside Austin. It was me, Austin and Andrew. The rest were at Derrick's table.
What the hell had happened to us?
Austin's POV
So, this was awkward. I saw Derrick talking to Jesse whilst Jesse had his head down. I felt bad for the guy- I really did- but Andrew and Ken both needed me too. I made a note to talk to him soon, but right now I had other issues. Personal ones. For once, Cecelia. She and Andrew never kissed and I was just waiting for everything to go down. I had to break up with Addie. Maybe it would be easier if Cecelia broke the news. Less stuff for me to explain.
Then I saw the back of Cecelia's chestnut hair. I abruptly got up and ignored the guys giving me weird looks.
I marched up to her, grabbed her arm… gently… then walked through the oak doors into the hallway. She had a satisfied smirk on her face as she waved at her giggling friends.
I looked desperately into her eyes. "Listen C, I'm sorry. He just really likes Nicki…"
"We were getting along, Austin." she said with a bitter tone. "All you had to do was throw in some obstacles."
Did she really expect me to break up my friends? To really hurt them? Anger coursed through my veins as I spat "Yeah, but he didn't like you. I don't care - tell everyone about me. I don't care anymore."
"It's not only about you, Austin," Cecelia said, completely unaffected by my outburst. And with that she pulled out a black iPhone and tapped the screen with her manicured fingers. I'd always thought her phone had a green case, but I guess not. After that she looked up at me and smiled. "Done, done and done. I want a date for the next dance, make him cute and make it happen or else I'll drop another bomb. And I'm not letting you off that easy… you have to tell Addie and your parents' reputations are safe this time."
So as far as I know all she has on me are my father and Massie's mother very secret affair, Massie and I hooking up while I was dating Addie and the pregnancy drama. Wait… if she didn't drop the Massie or affair bomb then… KYLE!
I felt myself running into the cafeteria as the whole room buzzed. Everyone, girl or boy was grabbing their phones, whispering among themselves, laughing and then looking at him. His face broke out in sweat as he pulled up his hood. Jesse, who was sitting next to him, got up to get him out. He put his arm around Kyle and they left through the opposite side of the room.
I saw Kristen jump up and follow. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach started coming up. I failed, what kind of leader am I?
I made eye contact with Massie. She looked sympatric; her eyebrows were furrowed (something she hated, wrinkles or something). I wanted to run to her, but instead I ran away.
To the bathroom and into a stall. I took out my phone and saw the message, it was sent from my phone. How is that possible…she did have a green case. During my yelling she must have used my distracted state to whisk my phone out of my pocket then send off the text to all my contacts… right in front of my nose.
I reread the message again and again.
Kyle not only bangs townies but he acts like them 2. Looks like he needs to start child proofing that mansion on Judson Street.
No one would trust me or talk to me after this.
TIME PASS: From Monday to Saturday
It was Saturday night. I guess I should summarize the week a little. For one, Kyle punched me in the face, before I sat all the boys down and explained the Cecelia problem.
Monday after school I got ahold of the math classroom on the 2nd floor. I dragged Ken, Kyle, Jesse, Andrew, and even Cam in there.
First I explained how she started texting from an anonymous number and that I knew who it was, but she had a lot of shit on me and then she dropped the bomb.
I concluded with "now the whole school thinks that I'm a backstabbing friend and worst of all, they know your secret."
Kyle's floppy hair sat over his emerald eyes and when he looked up it wasn't in anger or sadness, but understanding.
"I need to tell you all something. I was going to break the news last weekend except for all the drama and how we are all split up." I looked up and saw Ken trying to make eye contact with Jesse, but Jesse was trained on Kyle. I followed his example. "Tanya is moving."
This is one thing I'm good at. Maybe I'm not funny, or flirty, or super handsome, but I am loyal and know how to help someone out of a hole. No one talked, what was there to say? So I opened up. "Listen, man. That sucks, that really sucks, but you've got us. No matter what happens we got your back. We'll get you past this. Maybe you can see her in the summers…"
Kyle looked at me thankfully. "I appreciate that. But I'm moving to Nebraska. I'm not letting my little girl…"
"Girl?" Jesse asked, suddenly smiling slightly.
Kyle had a big smile on. "Yeah. So much for fellow partiers, right 'Messy Jesse'? I'm going with her. She will know her dad. Tanya, Tanya's boyfriend, and me. There's a boarding school. I'll go there and get to see her every Sunday."
Ken patted Kyle on the back. "I'm happy for you, man. Assuming you are happy…"
Kyle nodded. He really had grown up a lot from this. "Yes, I am happy."
"When are you leaving?" Andrew inquired. He looked very upset about this news, even though the two weren't even that close.
"End of the week. For the second semester. It starts March 1st, but I want to get there a week early to settle in."
We were all okay for a second before Kendal opened his mouth. He looked angrily at me. "Austin, you are supposed to be our captain- our leader. This… This is bullshit. You let the bomb drop on your friends and didn't even prepare us. I mean, c'mon!"
Cam looked at me too, not as angry. I feel like Ken was projecting, but Cam gave me a disappointed look. "You haven't been really there for them since Christmas Break, it gave me an option to become friends with Jesse and Kyle. But Austin, I've known you forever and you've kind of been self-obsessed recently."
"Guys! Hold up!" It was Andrew, thank goodness for Andrew. "He's been blackmailed. If I knew I would have kissed her but…"
Ken jumped up again. "That's the thing! Austin didn't say anything! Friends don't hold stuff from each other! Especially when it could be prevented! Andrew could have pretended not to know she wanted to kiss him."
Time to defend myself. "Guys, hold up! Andrew has a girlfriend."
Andrew looked at his shoes and mumbled "Nicki would've let me kiss someone else, if it would prevent Kyle from being publically humiliated. She's not controlling like that."
Finally Kyle spoke up. "I'm leaving; so I'm out of the group, but maybe it's time for a new leader. Cam or Andrew…"
After that I marched out. Kyle spent the rest of the time with either Cam and Jesse or Andrew and Ken. Not me, though, that bridge was burned. Jesse told Kyle that, he was his only true friend, because Andrew and Ken went for his girl, and I had supported them. And the thing is, I did.
With that going on, I really wasn't in the mood for Saturday night. Another date with Addie.
Another awkward date would be a better way of phrasing it. It got so bad that she started fiddling with the colored streak in her hair while we talked politics in the cozy Italian restaurant. The dimly lit room and candlelight was supposed to generate a feeling of romance, but it didn't work. I looked at almost everything but Addie as we sat there is silence: the white table cloth, variety of breads, the pink wallpapered walls, the hot bartender, and even the elderly couple across the restaurant.
"How's Massie?" Addie asked off-handedly, waking me up from whatever daze I was in. She kept playing with the ends of her hair as if she never asked the question, but my hands sweat like crazy.
"She's fine. Something happened at school today," I said trying to lead her into the conversation about Kyle. Gossipy, I know, but she is my 'girlfriend'.
"With Massie?" she asked taken aback.
"Huh? What? No. Nothing got to do with Massie." I answered pressing my arms to my sides, hoping no nervous sweat would seep through the cotton fabric of my plaid button down.
Addie looked at me knowingly and then sighed. "Austin, when will you realize how terrible of a liar you are." She then abruptly got up, before the main course even came. I tried to follow her, but the hostess wouldn't let me leave without paying.
By the time I got onto the cobblestone sidewalk she was half a block ahead. If this were Massie, she would have humiliated me in public and not have been able to get so far away. Heels don't work well with cobblestone, I figured. Why did I start thinking of Massie? Well, the real question should be when did I stop thinking of her?
"Addie! Wait up!" I yelled, jogging after her. Finally I ran in front of her and her face looked red with anger.
"I am sick of this bullshit!" she yelled at me. The streetlights reflected on the snow surrounding her made her look beautiful, and part of me wanted to kiss her while she was glowing like this. But I knew I couldn't, it had all finally caught up with me. Cecelia, making me do this, wasn't giving me the easy way out like I thought.
Addie turned, walked a few paces, then looked at me again and for a second I remembered how she reminded me of sunshine. Then the yelling continued, "You and your secrets and your Massie and your privileged life! I haven't seen that guy in the library who hopelessly flirted with me since that hot tub. I want him back! Not this energy-less, boring clone in front of me!"
I clenched my fists and closed my eyes. It was time to say it. Here I go…
Nope, she was yelling again, "I was told to do some digging. I was told you were hiding something. That is why I hadn't dumped you sooner, because I knew something was up and I wanted to be here for you! I wanted to help you through it!" Guilt was killing me, but she wasn't done yet. Her voice softened. "If you are feeling extra insecure- I know you battle with that, Austin- or have family issues, or are having trouble with the whole Andrew and Jesse thing… Now the Andrew, Ken, and Jesse thing. I wanted to be here for you. To get you through it! But you don't tell me anything."
A Freudian slip is something we learned about in school. When your subconscious slips into your conscious mind and you say something without realizing. Our teacher showed the example by saying a regular sentence then saying "boob" in the middle of it. It was funny at the time, something that you'd think wouldn't really happen.
I guess my subconscious was killing me because I slipped "I hooked up with Massie.''
I saw denial on her face, first not believing it actually happened, then a flash of flustered anger, then maybe bargaining with herself as if saying 'I won't be cool to him again if this isn't true', then deep sadness. This all took place in a second. Four of the five stages of grief. Next was Acceptance, I think.
Nope! I first heard the smack echo down the street, than I raised my hand instinctively to my right cheek, which was throbbing…She slapped me!
"You pig," she said, glaring at me, and turned and walked away. After about ten yards she turned with her arms spread and laughed chaotically. "That wasn't hard, was it? Honesty? You should try it more often!"
Andrew's POV
It's been a tough week. I said bye to Kyle and I got to admit it was hard. Our group was so messed up at this point that with every tie cut I felt it would be harder to sew back.
In fact I don't know it it'll ever work out again. Jesse and I are still not talking. He and Ken are worse. Everyone thinks Austin is a terrible leader, I love him (as a bro), but I kind of agree. He doesn't have the confidence and leader qualities, and all the splits in the group prove it. As much of an ass Harrington is, he's a good leader. I think Cam would be good too, but I also have this feeling that I'd be the best of all.
Anyway, I am beyond excited for tonight.
I started by showering… obviously. I jumped in and felt the pitter-patter of the droplets hit my freckled shoulder. When I got out I examined myself in the mirror. I used a comb to put my chestnut hair in a side part then used my left hand to go through it to loosen it up.
My next stop was the closet. I picked out a pair of tan khaki's and a white button down. I tucked it in, added a blue bowtie and suspenders, than threw on my North face winter coat. My small room, with the grey walls, was covered in posters and my desk was cluttered with papers. Most people would find it difficult to sleep in such an untidy room. I considered it my personal metaphor. I may be groomed, organized and perfect on the outside, but I'm still human. Being at Grayson and having a social life has made me believe it. Last year on a night like this I'd be home studying or playing videogames with friends. This year… I had a date.
I left my house, looking fresh and had a skip in my step. I borrowed my mom's minivan and drove to Nicki's apartment building. Raymond, her new doorman, waved at me when he saw my car pull up then walked inside to let her 4th floor apartment know I was here. Then I saw her. Nicki made her way to my car as the wind blew her long, straight hair into her face, getting it stuck in her lipstick.
When she got in the car, she giggled, and pulled down the hinged flap of the sun visor and unstuck her dark hair from her full lips. I laughed and leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
"Buckle up!" I chirped as she rolled her eyes, still smiling, and clicked in her seat belt.
"I got you something," she said pulling out a CD from her bag. She slipped it into my CD player and some symphony music came on.
I groaned dramatically, "C'mon this stuff is so boring!" I whined, only half joking.
She smiled and flirt-punched my shoulder, "you think that dub step and house is actually music. Sounds made on a Macbook is noise, this is music. Just listen." Every now and again she would note when another violin was added in or the distinct sounds of different instruments. She loved having opinions and adding commentary to something she knows about. Nicki is a very outspoken person, and I admire that about her. But to be honest, right now I'd do anything for some sick beats from Deadmau5. But, I let her continue until we reached Eyebuzz Fine Art.
It was an art gallery and had an opening on this cold, Saturday night.
I parked in the parking lot and went around to open the gold door to let out my Nicki. She had ankle boots, tights, and a little black dress with ruffles along the hem. How did I know what a LBD is? Twin sister.
Her frosty eyes looked fierce in the snow, with her red lips and pale skin. Kind of like a vampire from True Blood or something. But then she smiled and how every intense she looked before washed away. I put my arm out for her as she strung her own hand through it and we walked to the gala.
Daniel Lefcourt was the artist. He was a small, ratty looking man who walked around asking people's opinion of his contemporary work.
The inside was just a white room with black metallic art over the wall. The art was mostly metal in basic shapes, but it was quite a sight to see if you are a culture-addict like we are.
Nicki and I were looking at a display on the wall of repeating bands of metallic color.
A chubby journalist, with intentionally messed up Grey spikey hair, walked up and looked at us curiously, "what would two younglings as yourselves be doing at a museum like this?" He said snickering at us through his thick spectacles.
Nicki turned to him and with sarcasm responded, "enjoying all the pretty pictures. How about you?" I knew she was annoyed at being patronized, but I let her lead the man along.
"Just gazing at these neat stripes lining the walls in such a metaphorical way," he said in an exasperated tone. He was definitely trying to seem superior and was probably checking out Nicki in the process, but she just smirked.
"I think you are mistaken. Although the lines on the wall seem simple and neat to an untrained eye, I think the function is both literal and illusion. I say this because if you look closely they are rarely identical in length and he expertly implied a unique world with its own light, space and perspective. Also keep in mind that they elegantly insinuate systems and drawings like those explored in the early 1970's. Mr. Lefcourt has a clear understanding of Frank Stella's, from 1967, idea of minimalist and post minimalist. Maybe you shouldn't judge a book by a cover, sir. You are welcome to quote me in your article, my name is Nicolette Anderson."
(A/N I got half of this last quote from the New York Times. But if it doesn't make sense I apologize!)
I smiled proudly as the man's jaw dropped and Nicki smirked and offered me a high five. I high fived her loudly and then we walked away laughing. He was schooled! Get it? Cause we totally burned him and we're still in school...
Anyway, as we finished looking at all the art, we went back through the almost abandoned car park as the sun started setting and soon entered the car.
"Nicely done in there," I laughed to her.
She threw her hair dramatically over her shoulder and smiled cockily, "no one messes with me!"
"But," I inquired sarcastically. "You are not very observant for someone who loves art as much as you do."
She looked at me confused and I motioned to the back of the minivan. I had put all the middle chairs down making the back of the van a flat surface. Then I covered the floor with blankets and comforters. Finally, I propped pillows all along the inside sides of the car. It was cozy, warm looking and was pretty much a soft platform on wheels.
"Was this there the whole time?" she asked surprised. I nodded and then reached for the basket behind her seat containing, salad, cold cut meat, fresh bread and red wine.
"I thought since we were going to an art gallery we could eat like those French artist." I responded shyly, but she was still dumbfounded how she never turned around and noticed how I made a bed in the back of the minivan.
"How did I not smell the freshly made bread?"
"I put down the windows. C'mon." I whispered crawling back to the plethora of blankets. I turned on 2 electric candles, not wanting to burn either of us. They cast a shaking, flickering light on the padded walls on the van.
She followed and me and we both lied out in L-shapes eating the food and talking about music, art and school. She really helped me understand why I missed Kyle as much as I did. Not because I knew him, but because he was part of the group that accepted me and I was afraid to lose them, not so much him. Nicki really understood me and I understood her.
It was very romantic if I say so myself; the flickering light, good food, privacy and being so close to one another (mentally and physically). Eventually after we finished the bottle of wine and put away the remainder of glasses, cutlery and plates back in the basket we started making out.
She was on top at the genesis of the kiss as we just felt each other through our wine stained lips. She ran her hands through my hair as we slowly pecked each other's lips again and again. I used my hands to go around her skinny torso to rub the small of her back. Eventually we started deepening the kiss. Her lips tasted like the French wine we just drank, while the sweet Rosy perfume she wore tickled my nose. Eventually her hand moved from my hair to holding my head between her small hands. I was so blissful in the kiss, that it actually surprised me. We have never been able to kiss without worrying about a parent or sibling come in or kiss without a time limit to be aware of.
My stomach was tingling and I felt the electrification warm my abdomen. Then she became a little more aggressive as she took off my bowtie. I flipped her over and helped unzip her dress so she was just in her tights, shoes and bra. Before I knew it we were both quite bare.
That night, in the back of my minivan we shared that tender moment that can only happen once… to each other.
Nicki's POV
"Nicolette! Sweetie! You've got a visitor!"
What? Sunday morning? I knew it wasn't Addie, she told me she was going to see me in school last night after our long conversation on the phone. That really means 'I'm happy you had a good date with Andrew, but I don't want to talk about that. See you when I have to'.
So instead I looked out the window of my apartment building to see a Range Rover outside. What? Who could this be?
Quickly I jumped out of bed and into the bathroom. I quickly washed my face and threw on some foundation and light mascara. Then I brushed and braided my hair and walked down in my PJ's as if I just got up. In my kitchen, sitting next to my little brother was Massie Block and some guy.
Massie was a kind of like heroin to me. She was a bitch to my friend, she hooked up with Austin behind her back, but something about her was so addicting. Like I wanted to know her and be her…
And next to Massie was this… HOTTIE!
This guy was gorgeous! Not like Ken hot, who had that suave, handsome, movie star look, but like an Abercrombie Model.
He had spikey hair that stuck up in the front and was a golden blonde. Really a mix between auburn and blonde hair. Then as you kept looking down you saw thick eyebrows that were tamed and plucked looking. Under them was ocean blue. His eyes were very light in color, like Anderson Cooper or something.
As my mom was talking he had a faint smile, with his brows slightly raised, revealing a hint of teeth. It looked like he was listening and then he noticed me. Even though I had a boyfriend… whom I am crazy about… doesn't mean I can't look, right?
My staring at the new kid had to end at some point so I turned my attention to Massie, who was smiling knowingly and menacingly.
"Good morning, Nicki!" she charmed, "can we talk?" I was still in my tank top and pajama pants, whilst Massie was dressed in an Alice & Olivia puff-sleeve blouse and Elie Tahari Sabine skirt. Her hair was in an exquisite side braid and her makeup was freshly applied. Intimidating? Understatement of the year.
I led her into my TV room and kicked out my dad so I could chat with her. She sniggered at the worn leather coaches that could have had a number of things between the seats, from loose change to pretzels to the remote control. It was a small and long room, just enough to fit a coach along one of the long sides, with a TV across from it and a La-Z Boy chair perpendicular to it. I sat on the red leather chair and placed my feet on the chipped wooden table.
Massie carefully sat down on the coach and then looked at me, waiting for me to talk.
"So who was that?" I asked curiously, trying to play it off like it wasn't a big deal.
"Will. My cousin who moved here for 2nd semester sophomore year - and maybe a while longer if his family likes it." she answered quickly. I felt like I was in an interrogation by the way she was looking at me. As if trying to identify any signs of emotion.
"He's good-looking," I retorted quickly, trying to draw her attention away from me.
"Yeah, but not very sociable. I feel like he's nervous around me all the time. Anyway, that doesn't matter. What happened?" Massie breathed urgently.
"With?"
I knew what she was asking about. What a bitch! What right did she have to inquire about something she ruined? But then I saw her face… vulnerable.
I swallowed my nerves and spoke. "They broke up."
"Was it bad?" she winced. If I didn't know any better, I would have guessed that she felt sorry for the two of them.
"No, she expected it." I answered, trying to give Addie some credit, even though I don't think she expected any of it.
Massie waited a pause, still staring at me before continuing. "And him?"
"He didn't chase her," I replied, exasperated, as I drew my eyes to the game on the TV. Some golf tournament that my dad had been watching.
"Oh," Massie said, fighting a creepy smile.
There was an awkward silence where we could hear the low volume commentary as Tiger Woods took a shot, plus some of the babbling my mom was doing in the kitchen, and I decided to change the subject. "I'm going to Grayson next year. Mom got a call last night. I think Addie might transfer too."
"Ohh…" Massie looked a little disappointed but then put on a genuine smile. "Congratulations. That's really cool."
"You know, we will be friends Massie. You and Austin might be a thing and I am with Andrew. They are best friends, so let's wave the peace flags. Okay?"
Massie smiled at me knowingly and blinked yes. Then got up, and her and Will (who still hasn't spoken or hardly made eye contact with me yet) got up and left the apartment.
Massie and I would be friends. I had a feeling.
Jesse's POV
So this was it.
I sat silently in the huge lobby, beneath a huge domed ceiling. My hands were shaking slightly upon their own accord. I was the last in the long line of names to be called. After all, Jesse Walker starts with "W".
Cam had invited me to try out for this band audition. I told him in passing that Alicia had told me I was a good singer. He asked me to sing on the spot, but I was too nervous. What if I suck? I eventually agreed to go.
It was almost unnerving sitting there with one other kid in the huge room. Earlier, I wasn't nervous at all. I mean, I don't really care about this band and I'm just doing it to get some advice on my voice. Cam and I talked about the glitches in NBA 2K13. But after someone is done trying out they leave. So now it was just me and some kid with the last name Yates.
I at least had time to think. After everything that had happened with Ken I decided to put a good foot forward. I took my white iPhone out of my khakis pocket and sent Andy a text.
What you did was bogus. But you didn't know me well and me and Ali weren't dating. And after what Ken did well- we're cool. Bros?
I had been thinking about Alicia a lot. Derrick and his boys had tried to get me to go with other girls, but none really measured up. I mean, how can you go from the hottest chick in school that really gets you to some bimbo. I know the whole thing only happened once and it was lapse of judgment, but forgiveness made me weak. We still texted - in fact, she wished me luck about ten minutes ago via text.
That's probably the only reason I took Cam up on this singing audition offer. 'Cause Alicia said it was my true talent, that one thing I'm super good at.
I inwardly shook my head as I realized that I had managed to think of her again, even though I was talking about trying to forget her. I guess texting her wasn't a good idea. Damn, I needed to stop that. It was getting me nowhere, but then again, it's hard cutting such an important person out of your life cold turkey.
I sighed and craned my neck to look up at the big domed ceiling above me. I sat virtually alone in a giant lobby, in one of those buildings that looked like a Capitol Building. Striped rays of sunlight fell across the black- and white-tiled floor. But I just focused above me, trying to read the cursive script. Even if I wasn't dyslexic it wouldn't be easy to decipher.
I continued staring up at the ceiling, admiring the glittering gold letters of some ancient and dead language like Latin, probably describing every momentous discovery and catastrophic failure throughout the course of U.S. history. I could probably learn all of America's past right in this building, just by reading the faraway letters on the ceiling. I smirked to myself; at least it would get me out of history class for the rest of the year.
"Jesse Walker?"
I looked up abruptly to see a young-looking guy wearing a pair of bright yellow skinny jeans and a navy and purple plaid sweater vest with a loose white t-shirt underneath. He was the guy ahead of me and band had obviously sent him out to find the next person up. I scrambled from my seat nervously, feeling completely out of place. It seemed that all the guys dressed like that here: in neon skinny jeans with polka-dotted bowties. I didn't know if that was some sort of dress code requirement for guy singers, all I knew was that there was no way I'd be caught dead wearing anything like that. I was in a grey zip up hoodie, a Celtics T-shirt, and dark khaki's with white sneakers. Simple and my style - casual with preppy on the side.
I went through the door the last boy came out of. It was a nicely lit room, a couple chairs facing a lone microphone, but was pretty grungy room. It contrasted perfectly with the previous lobby. I wondered if all government buildings were like this. All pretty and proper on the outside, but is actually a pit of dirt and rot. Yep, that seemed to fit the description. I mean, my old man was a politician, after all. I ought to know.
I tried to remember what Cam had said earlier. "Don't worry, Jess. Harris is in the band, so I'm a shoe-in anyways. But they'll give you some nice feedback on your voice."
It wasn't exactly encouraging, except for the "don't worry" part. But, I suppose that was Cam's way of making the whole thing seem pointless, to steel my nerves. He was cool like that.
Simple room. Nicely lit, just me and 3 dudes and a sound guy, staring at my every move. I glanced around and saw a small microphone stand slightly to my right. The previous guy must've been short.
I adjusted the size and nervously held onto the microphone with both my hands, finally I looked to the right where the sound guy was. I had given him the CD I burned with every song (without singing- like Karaoke) I was going to sing.
I took a deep breath. Now or never.
Perfectly on cue, my first song came on. My set list showed a variety of different tempos and I think the 3 will show my talent well. I sang "Knocking on Heaven's Door", "Brown Eyed Girl" and "(I Cant Get No) Satisfaction".
Nearing the end of my third and final song, I felt my self become more solid as the nerves washed away. Then I opened my eyes and I felt my knees weaken as I searched their reaction-less faces.
The song ended its last note and I let my voice hang, droning on. It reverberated throughout the room. I hadn't realized just how loud it was. I gulped. Suddenly the three guys in the band started snapping… snapping? Is this a poetry reading or something?
The bassist, his bass residing in his lap, looked like Cam, just older and with more defined features. Plus, his eyes were a murky hazel as opposed to blue and green. I guessed that he was Harris. I glanced at him and he shot me a good-natured grin. Feeling a bit relieved seeing a slightly familiar face. I smiled back and stood up a bit straighter. The drummer, who was tapping his drum sticks together in a beat I didn't recognize, was definitely the kind of guy you'd find at a surfer's beach with loads of chicks hanging all over him. In other words, he was very handsome. He had shaggy blond hair that, reminded me of my new buddy, Derrick Harrington's, own locks. That was where the similarities between the 2 ended, e had pale green eyes and straight teeth.
But, the last guy, the guitarist, just stared at me. He had bright red hair and an endless amount of clearly charming freckles. His face seemed a bit round and he looked slightly chubby, though still obviously handsome, mostly through confidence, I bet. He studied me with an impassive look on his face, his eyes stone cold. I resisted the urge to fidget under his gaze. Eventually he spoke.
"You don't have it, kid," he said simply, as though informing a curious bystander that it was sunny outside. "You don't have that . . . that sing-song voice that dominates radio stations and things like Glee, kid. Our previous singer had it, but you sure don't. Haven't you ever had vocal coaching?"
Well, that was expected. I sucked; Alicia was just being nice telling me I was good. I wasn't going to look weak, though.
I stared at him hard and replied firmly "Nope."
"Interesting—I'd think a governor would give his kid everything he needs to be successful," he said. I widened my eyes in confusion. I wanted to run; I get it, I suck! The chubby guitarist chuckled. "You know . . . all we've been hearing today has either been Backstreet Boys, One Direction, NSync, or Justin Bieber."
I was surprised at his sudden change of tone. He went from arrogant prick to understanding and cool in ten seconds. "I'll bet," I replied, still staring hard at the guitarist.
The redhead guitarist regarded me fondly, finally smiling in a way that made him seem human. "And here you are. Serenading us with Bob Dylan, Van Morrison and Rolling Stones. I'm impressed. You have taste." He paused and glanced up at me, a bemused expression on his face. "Do you even know the words to one Bieber song?"
I chuckled. "Yeah, actually." He gave me an odd, amused expression. So I quickly added "I have three little sisters. They practically fall asleep still singing his songs."
He laughed, an unexpected sound. It sounded more like a bark of a dog than anything. "Hah—I like you, kid. We like you." he said in a slightly dramatic tone. He glanced up at me again and then pulled a notepad and pen out of his pocket and started scribbling.
What? This guy was going back and forth, so naturally I said the first thing that popped into my ADD brain. "Huh?"
"We hate this new junk! Everyone sounds the same, the only difference in songs now is the amount of auto tune and fake beats that play in the background. You've… you've got something."
I was dumbfounded, and probably looked beyond confused. So he just continued with a kind smile. "Yeah, kid. Really."
I didn't say anything so he continued. "Have you ever been to Black Church?"
"Uh, no. I've only seen it in movies."
He was still scribbling on his notepad. I took the chance to look at the other guys who had remained silent. Harris was sitting with his legs crossed and head leaned back, eyes closed. He looked perfectly peaceful despite the noise of the offbeat conversation between me and the guitarist (I still didn't know his name). The surfer dude was goofing off on his phone, occasionally sending the pair of us a spare glance.
"Okay, good, you know the leader in the choir. Well, when they belt out that song, they get lost in the moment, the melodic moment takes them over. You've got that, kid, when you closed your eyes and sung we could see the passion on your face as you sung. You could have been singing in your shower or in Madison Square Garden- it didn't matter, you were overcome with the music. You also sound romantic, like you were wooing us, but you're also confessing and howling and conversing and begging and hectoring us too. It's genius, kid. You're not singing with your throat and lungs, you're singing with everything in your body. There is soul there. You got passion and snazz like Freddie Mercury or Mick Jagger; you got the feeling-provoking sound of Sinatra, the sweet sound of Elton, the presence of Bono and the force of Springsteen. But then there is something unique- a Boston ting on the end of every word, kind of like Aerosmith- Steven Tyler."
I felt beyond flattered and I knew I had my smile on. The one that goes from ear to ear, I haven't had this on for a while. "That would make sense, I'm from Boston."
The guitarist ignored my comment and continued rambling. "And you're a lover... You are optimistic, and right now, that is what music needs. We're not going to sing about wanting to be your boyfriend or it's got to be you or auto tuned romantic crap like getting smoothies. We're going to sing about real love, real problems, real hurt, and this might fail. Right now the world doesn't want to hear this stuff, they like the cheesy pop songs and not so much the epic anthems. But our goal is to make them listen. I don't see any of these sweet, trained voices on the other side of the wall beating you out. Music shouldn't be about how pretty a voice sounds, but the feeling it evokes. You know what I mean, kid?"
My head was buzzing, "Yeah, kind of."
He smiled. "Good." He turned to his partners who were now magically listening. "Well, I think we got ourselves a deal. Let's just say someone like Bob Dylan wouldn't win American Idol nowadays, but he's still one of the greats. Music needs to be revived. Jesse, welcome to the band . . ."
Alicia's POV
Mom and Dad made me cancel all my Saturday night plans to greet Dad's new attorney. After his old one left for Miami, he had to call in a few favors. I didn't know what the case was, due to it being highly confidential, but I'm sure Dad will win.
I didn't really want to go out anyway. All the girls were inviting guys over and I didn't think I could keep my sanity in check seeing the girls' kiss their boyfriends when I didn't have my favorite dimpled lips…
I was in my room before I was called down the stairs. I heard the attorney has some kids in high school and I want to wow them, like usual. I sat at the marble counter top of a 1940's-esque old makeup vanity, touching up some mascara. Should I go natural colors or a little extra? Jesse said he liked it when I only had a little makeup on; at least that's what he said in the song he wrote to me. Oh, I should play that.
I walked over and hit play on my iPod, listening to his voice fill my orange and purple colored room.
Eventually I got up and walked into my closet. I couldn't decide between my fitted Ralph Lauren Black Label button-up with slim-fit jeans - totally classic - or a Marc Jacobs green and gold dress, with Tory Burch flats and a Ralph Lauren Blue Label cardigan. I decided on the second option, I then secured the gorgeous diamond bracelet Jesse got me on my right hand. On cue the doorbell rang.
Once I heard my father greet them with his booming voice. My mother's silky Spanish accent complimented their clothes and looks. Finally I heard my cue, my introduction.
"My daughter, Alicia, will be down any second. Leesh, honey!" With that I sauntered down the stairs with one hand on the rail, my hair over one shoulder, eyeing the guests. Wait, they looked really familiar. Noah? Was that Noah?
I eyed the boy in front of me. He was skinnier than most boys my age, but still had a lean body. He had a kind of trickster look and spikey jet-black hair. His eyebrows were thick and he had dark eyes, but I couldn't get over the mischievous aura that he gave off. He was dressed in maroon skinny jeans, high top sneakers and a button down shirt. Not very upstate New York, way less conservative.
"Alicia, you remember Noah Seaman? He went to Briarwood, but left in sixth grade," my father said, giving me a look to pretend to remember him, assuming I forgot. I didn't forget, he was Austin and Derrick's friend and Dylan had had a major crush. He wasn't my type, because he didn't have those dimples and that smell and that silly Boston accent… snap out of it, Ali! Ali… that's what Jesse called me.
"Of course I remember Noah! He spilt slushy on my fold-over Giuseppe Zanotti's. Remember those boots?" I asked smiling sweetly at him as my dad chuckled.
My dad patted him on the shoulder and said, "If only she remembered her chemistry equations as well as she remembers her clothes."
Then Mr. Seaman chuckled, who was actually holding his wife's hand in public… then eww eww he was kissing her on the lips! Noah looked embarrassed.
"I remember those boots," he said, trying to draw my attention away from the disgusting display his parents were putting on. He gave me a crooked, lopsided smile and I tried to greet him back with one. No dimples… but still pretty cute. I've got to text Dylan when I have an opportunity, maybe that'll make up for hooking up with her hook-up buddy. Then his sister walked in - Carmela.
I never knew her well, but nonetheless gave her a hug, before we were ushered into the dining room and offered a three-course meal.
"So Alicia, how's my boy Austin?" Noah asked me from across the table.
My dad, who was sitting on the right of me at the head of the table, jumped in, with his winning charismatic voice. "Austin has been at our house more in the last couple months then his whole life combined! Alicia's boyfriend is good friends with him."
I felt my face go red. I hadn't told my parents we broke up, because I really didn't want it to be true and admitting it hurt more than thinking about it.
"Oh yeah? Who are you dating?" Noah asked politely. He was sucking up so hard! I knew he was a class clown, who would do any dare, not this goody two shoes.
I gave him a knowing look then responded as convincingly and proudly as possible, "Jesse Walker. He is new this year."
"Walker?" asked Mr. Seaman. He gave my father a quick glance like they knew something I didn't. Then his attention was turned back to me. "How is the governor?"
"Very nice. He's actually very funny. Why?"
Once again the dads looked at each other and the conversation was over.
After dinner the three of us teenagers went to the TV room. My Pretty Little Liars was on pause, but I sat on the armchair as the twins sat on the coach.
I had a good opportunity to eye Carmela. We were never friends in school, not really enemies either. She had chocolate brown hair and catlike eyes. She had a kind of mysterious thing going on and I was dying to know about her life in California. I think she dated Kemp in 5th grade, first couple of our grade, but I could hardly talk to her about that.
"So what really happened with this Jesse guy?" she asked, looking at me knowingly.
I flipped my glossy hair over my shoulder and pursed my lips giving her a sultry look to intimidate. "I messed up. I really messed up…"
She nodded and after a pause smiled. "Last time I saw you, you were dating Josh. He was the new kid at the time."
This made me laugh. "Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking!" After a pause again I started thinking, and even though I didn't mean to say this aloud I mumbled "Whenever I see Josh in the hallways it's like a slap in the face for going there and even being with him, but whenever I see Jesse it's a stab in the heart for not being with him and screwing up the way I did."
"Then let's get him back." Carmella smiled genuinely.
A/N For one I know this is super long. Will, Noah and Carmela's characters' will be growing a lot next chapter. Also it'll focus more on friends and their outside life rather than romance; so that means fixing the clique, adding the new characters in and working out the leadership issues.
Please give me a review; I need to know who is back on board with the story.
Maybe you could answer these questions:
What was your favorite part? If you have a character try to include one without your own character and maybe one with.
What are your predictions on the relationships?
Who would you like to see have a POV and what would you like it to entail?
What relationship is your biggest ship? In other words which couple is your favorite (it can be a friends relationship such as Nicki and Addie or romance like Nicki and Andrew)
What do I need to work on?
Should Austin be the leader? Or Andrew?
Anything else you want to add.
