The Real Score

Chapter 7: Just The Way You Are

"B? Hey B. We're here."

Marcus' voice floated into my consciousness, his hands gentle as they shook me awake. Sometime in the almost three-hour drive from London after meeting with his band to here, I fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes, the cityscape of London was gone. We were at the entrance of a quaint little town, the town where Marcus grew up. Not one structure was taller than three stories, and everything looked so simple. It was the kind of town that only has one of everything: a bank, a supermarket, a bakery, a school, and a library, the kind of town where everyone knew everybody.

"This is where I was born," Marcus said. There was something in his voice I couldn't place. "I haven't been back here since...the band was formed. Everything just got too busy."

I didn't speak, waiting for him to continue.

"I think Laurence already went back here a couple of times, but..." He paused, taking a deep breath. I knew he met Laurence at the school and they formed a band along with a bunch of other boys. When they joined this battle of the bands contest, he and Laurence were discovered by this hotshot producer, and their journey to Gezellig began.

"Your parents got divorced, so it's okay if you haven't been back," I said softly, and he glanced at me. He never told me about his parents' divorce, which happened around the time they were put together in a band four years ago, but I read up on it online.

"Pops moved to Weaverham, but we still kept a couple of properties here. Mum, Lila and I moved further into the countryside. And then Mum met Matthew, and they are now in Sheffield with Lila, who's studying there." I couldn't picture how far those places were from where we are, but by the way the sadness has crept into his voice, I surmised the places were quite far from each other.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "I missed the days when everything was simple, Cait. And whole," he whispered, as he made a right and parked the car in front of a brown and white barn house. The sign at the side told me it was a bakery.

I lifted my hand and placed it on his cheek, and he leaned into it, his cheek warm against my palm. "It's never gonna be just simple again, B," I replied. "But we can make you whole again."

He turned his head to the side and I felt his lips as they grazed my palm. I didn't move, and beneath my touch, his lips curved into a small smile. "You want to take a walk?" he said, his eyes still sad. I nodded, and we got down the car.

We passed by the bakery's entrance, with a man in his early fifties peeking out of the window. His eyes widened in surprise, and he rushed out.

"Marcus?"

Marcus and I stopped walking, and he turned to the man.

"It's you!" he said, clapping his hands.

"Arnold," Marcus greeted back, giving him a hug.

"It's been a while, young lad," Arnold said.

"I know."

"This must be your girlfriend?" Arnold said, turning to me after they released each other.

"No," I said with a smile. I held out a hand, saying, "I'm Caitlin, his best friend."

"Hmm," Arnold said, "Marcus here can never be just friends with girls."

Beside me, Marcus blushed as he told Arnold off.

Arnold clapped Marcus on his back, asking, "What brings you here?"

Marcus shrugged. "Cait's visiting me for a couple of weeks, and I wanna take her to my hometown. I haven't been around here since..."

"I'm sorry," Arnold picked up, not letting Marcus finish. "We miss you around here." He gave Marcus a squeeze on the shoulder before excusing himself.