Just What I Needed

Just What I Needed (1)

Dedication to jules130 who told me to post it, plus helped me pick the title - it was an interesting experience XD - and made the cover which is awesome!  By the way, I'm slowly rewriting the first chapters because I wrote these years ago and never got around to it, so bare with me until about chapter nineteen I think it is when I start writing for real! I really hope you like it!

“C’mon Hales!” Keely complained, digging her heels into the ground. The crowd around them was screeching with excitement, making her wince from the high pitches. Every other moment a wild boney elbow would catch her in passing, making her grimaces worsen as the crowd jostled them back and forth.

“Do we really have to do this?” she continued on after a short pause, her voice becoming just short of whiney.

The girl who was tugging her by the hand sent a bright expression over her shoulder, her dark eyes twinkling with excitement. “Yes we do!”

Unable to help herself, Keely gave one of the girls they were passing an incredulous look, seeing tears running down her face. Were tears really needed at this point? It wasn’t like they were going to see The Rolling Stones! “And why is that?!” asked she for what felt like the fiftieth time in the past hour, ducking to avoid the “Number One Marissa James’ Fan!” sign that gave a dangerous swing in her direction.

“I already have the tickets,” answered Haley cheerfully, waving them in the air with one of her perfectly manicured hands. Keely didn’t need to look at her hands to know they mimicked her best friend’s at the moment; it hadn’t been long since she’d been dragged to have a manicure. But the simple truth of the matter was, her hands were not made to be worked on every moment, they had much more important things to be doing. Not that anyone knew.

“You might want to stop doing that,” she observed, cringe when a high heel stabbed into her foot. She couldn’t hear the crunch of the bones, but she did feel it very clearly. “On second thought,” Keely added, limping along behind her friend, “Keep doing it.”

Haley just rolled her eyes, handing the tickets to the man at the front doors of the stadium for both of them.

“Can we back out now?” she enquired, not shameful at the hopeful tone in her voice as they were battered through the glass doors. Keely was finding her love of little children was not growing with the more time she spent around them, definitely not.

“You agreed, it’s my birthday present Keels! You’ll just have to suffer through the concert.”

“But all the music is so bad! So bad that the thought of lighting myself on fire and jumping off a cliff doesn’t seem that bad as long as I don’t have to go to this concert,” she rambled. Haley had begun dragging her through the crowd again; the screaming hadn’t stopped, but was only intensified by the enclosed space. “I still don’t know how you can listen to this fake, soulless crap that they call music,” Keely added, thinking longingly of her Bob Dylan record that was still in her record player in her bedroom.

“Say that a little louder and you won’t have a tongue to insult the band anymore,” Haley pointed out, sending wary glances about them in case someone decided to attack. “Anyways, you just have to sit through the concert, it’s not like you’ll have to meet them one day. And as long as you don’t start booing, you’ll make it out of here alive and make your best friend happy. All will be right in the world!”

Giving a deep sigh, Keely stepped up, wrapping her arm around the shoulder of her friend who stood just a hair shorter than she. “True,” she admitted, sending a furtive look to the girl who pranced by them wearing a Marissa James shirt from the tour. “But if I do start booing, then I’ll be attacked by ten year olds then be rushed to the hospital, therefore missing this concert and I’ll be saved from sitting on the floor where I’ll most probably meet my death.”