Dear Maria, Count Me In

Chapter Ten

SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD:

"I'm not going, Dad,"

"Maria, yes you are!"

"Dad, I don't believe in any of it! I never have!"

"Don't you say such things!"

"I'm sorry Dad, but I shouldn't have to go if I don't believe-"

"What has brought all this on, Maria? What is the real reason you don't want to go?"

"That is the real reason! Don't you understand?! I don't believe in it! Why can't I form my own opinion?"

"What is it? Huh? A dance class? Art class! Maria, what I don't understand is why you're so obsessed with these creative outlets! You will never make a decent living out of any of it!"

"You don't know me at all, do you?"

"You are going and that is that,"

"You can't make me go, Dad. I'm seventeen; not seven! I'm sorry, but I'm not going,"

"Just how do you think that will make me look to the community? If my own daughter wont even show up to support me and help to spread the word of the lord!"

"I really couldn't care less what the community think of you or me,"

"That's just your attitude to everything, isn't it?"

"Get over yourself, Dad!"

"Don't you dare laugh at me, Maria! This is serious!"

"Daddy? I don't want to go, either,"

"Wonderful. Just wonderful. Look at that Maria. You've forced your little sister-"

"I didn't force her to do anything! You're the one forcing us to go!"

"One day a week, just one day a week. That is all I ask,"

"But that's not all you ask, Dad. Is it?"

"If this is about dancing, then I don't want to hear it!"

"Dad, I don't believe in god. I'm not going to pretend that I do anymore. You wont even pretend to encourage my dancing,"

"It's always about the dancing. Why are you so obsessed with dancing?"

"Bye, Dad. Come on, Em. You can sit in on my ballet class if you want,"

"Emily, if you go with her, then-"

"Can't you let us make our own decisions?"

"Maria, you are seventeen. That is not old enough to make such decisions. Emily is twelve. That is certainly not old enough,"

"It's old enough to know what you believe in,"

"And just what do you believe in, Maria?"

"I used to believe in you. But I don't anymore,"

TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD:

Oh my god. My name is Maria. Alex is singing a song with the word "Maria" in it. That's... Maria is my name. He's my boyfriend. And I'm Maria. "Dear Maria, count me in". That's not just a coincidence. Since Emily found out, I have listened to every single one of their songs at least once. Emily has been filling me in on everything I need to know (everything there is to know), All Time Low-related. She certainly didn't mention that there was a song with my name in it. That would have been the first thing she'd have told me. I look at her now, she's beside me on the front row of the crowd. She's stopped dancing. She's staring at me. Which lets me know... This is a new song... This song... It's for me. Maria. It's about me. Maria. Oh my god, I'm Maria.

I look back up to Alex standing on stage and he's grinning at me. Yeah, it's definitely for me.

"That song goes out to my girlfriend, Maria McLean!" he yells into his microphone. Everyone but Emily and I are cheering. Emily is staring at me in shock and I'm staring at Alex in shock. Jack makes an inappropriate sex joke but I don't really hear it. I don't hear the crowd cheering, which now includes my sister - who is probably cheering the loudest. I think I'm about to faint, but Alex snaps me out of my trance by waving his hand in front of my face. I reach out my left hand to him, as my right hand is gripping Emily's like my life depends on it. He pulls me over the barrier and onto the stage and with me, I pull Emily. He pulls me into a hug, before the rest of the guys join in.

"This is Alex's girlfriend, Maria McLean and her little sister, Emily McLean!" Jack yells.

"This isn't happening..." Emily insists, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opens them, she finds Jack's face in hers and she jumps back a few feet. Jack laughs, taking her hand and standing at the front of the stage. I hardly take any notice of this, because Alex is whispering something into my ear.

"Did you like the song?" I can only nod in reply. "I love you, Maria,"

"I love you too, Alex," I tell him. I mean it.