Fate Reloaded

Fate Reloaded--Part III, Chapter Four

Chapter Four

            Jordana checked the address she’d written down on her personalized stationary again, and then looked back up at the house in front of her. Seeing that the numbers matched up, Jordana shoved the paper into her pocket and started up the driveway.

            She was surprised to see that Tyler lived in what was deemed “the rich part of town.” Based off her first impression of him, she hadn’t thought of him as the high society type.

Glancing at the house looming in front of her, Jordana was impressed by its size. Tyler’s house was at least three stories and had one of those long winding driveways leading to it.

“Guess my walk over here was just a warm-up to my actual workout,” Jordana said to herself, slightly out of breath.

She bounded up the few steps until she was standing at the front door. Jordana looked back down at the road and then up at the house in front of her. She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

The doorbell chimed to the beat of “Don’t worry, be happy.” Jordana couldn’t help but giggle at the irony. She forced her face to go blank, as she heard the door unlock and begin to open.

“Hey, Jordana,” Tyler said, smiling as he ushered her inside. “I see you found the place OK.”

“Yeah,” Jordana said, taking off her jacket and folding it across her arm. “Tyler, your house is amazing!”

He looked around the entranceway and then back at her. “It’s home,” he said, shrugging. “So, I’ll show you where we practice.”

“OK,” Jordana said, following him through the house. She couldn’t help but be in awe of the expansiveness of his place and looked around as they weaved in and out of rooms.

Should have brought breadcrumbs so I could find my way outta here, Jordana thought, already losing her sense of direction.

They finally ended up at a door right off the kitchen. Tyler pushed the door open and held it for her as she walked inside. The room was simple. There was a couch and a bunch of beanbag chairs tossed around the room. There was a mini-fridge in the corner and a TV across from the couch.

On the other side of the room, musical equipment was set up as if it were a stage. Jordana could see a set of drums in the back, an electronic piano off to the right, and a stand off to the left which held a guitar. And, of course, there were microphones all over the room.

“You like?” Tyler asked, crashing onto one of the beanbags.

“It’s pretty amazing,” Jordana said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Well, when I started having friends over to jam, my parents decided to build this room for me. It’s soundproof,” Tyler said. “My parents couldn’t handle the ‘noise’ we made. When they were home, that is.”

“Your parents aren’t around much?” Jordana asked, sitting down on the couch and placing her purse on the floor at her feet.

“Nah,” Tyler said, twisting at his spiky hair. “Dad’s always traveling on business and Mom’s usually off spending his money.”

“Oh,” Jordana said, not wanting to pry. “Well, this room’s pretty sweet.”

“Thanks,” Tyler said, perking up. He was obviously proud of their practice space.

Feeling the need to change the subject, Jordana pulled her feet up underneath her and looked over at Tyler.

“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Do you go to PCHS?” Jordana asked him.