I'll Be Back

Eight

I climbed up the stairs- almost happily, which, honestly, felt odd. I slid across the wooden floor of the second level of the house to my room. It was already beginning to look like the one I had back in 2013. The moment I swung the door open I was reminded of the painting I was going to hang up. I got the nails and hammer from my desk that's near the window. I saw John looking in from his room. I glared at him and swung around. I set the first nail in, and soon the other three. I walked over to the painting, and before I picked it up I carefully looked into John's room. He was in there, his back turned. For the first time I actually examined the room. It was full of posters- I could hardly see the wall. Singers, guitars, everything. In the corner of the room sat a record player on a shelf. And in the shelf sat dozens upon dozens of records. Noticing he was holding his banjo, and his window was open a crack, I pulled mine up a bit. It made a loud creak and John's head spun around. The banjo stopped playing and I could hear faint music. "I'm getting fresh air." I snapped, embarrassed I had been caught in the act. I narrowed my eyes at him and picked up the painting, turning around to hang it up. Having it set I took a deep breath in. The fresh air was nice- although that wasn't what I meant for the open window. I strained my ears a bit. Nothing. Then all of the sudden I heard John's banjo strumming and him singing. It took a second for me to recognize the song. I guess I was out pf season.

I hate to admit it, but I was almost mesmerized by his voice. It was sort of rough when he spoke, but when he sang, it was clear as a bell. He stopped playing and I snapped out of the zone and shut my window quickly as he turned around to make one of his stupid remarks. There we go- I'm back to hating him. Good.

"Roxanne! Come down here!" My head shot up as Nana called. I stared down at my paper for a second. I had drawn next to nothing. Today I was very distracted. Probably because of John playing his banjo. He had left his room a minute ago.

I leapt off the last few steps and turned the corner. I stopped in my tracks. John was in the door next to Nana clutching the four stringed guitar. "What're you doing here?" I spluttered angrily. "He should come over. I bring you over to Mimi's all the time, so I thought it'd be nice if John came over to visit." She made a shooing hand motion at me and John took his shoes off and Mimi came in. "Go on now," she said. "Show him your room or something." I grumbled and pulled John by the sleeve up the stairs. "Hey- let go!" He quietly yelped. "This was expensive!" I sighed and let go. "Since when were you a fashionista?" I muttered. I reopened the door to my room and sat on my bed. He walked in behind me and sat on the chair near my desk. "So this is it?" He asked. "I just got here." I grumbled with more than just a bit of anger in my tone. Staring at the papers on my desk he muttered something indecipherable, then turned up. "That stuff is pretty good. Mind if you make a logo for the Quarrymen? We'd be really cool then." I stared at him, confused. "I guess?" I half asked. He nodded. "Alright," he said. "We practice next on Friday. Finish it by then." I clenched my fists. Did he really expect me to do what he wanted when he ordered me around like that just because I said I'd make them something? I glared at him and set the scrambled papers into a kind of neat pile and sat back down on the bed. "This is boring." I said, leaning against the wall. I sighed and twiddled my fingers. "You know what?" he said. I looked at him, confused. "I have an idea." I stared at John and I saw a glint of mischief in his eyes. I got up, rolling my own eyes. "What?" He stood up also and walked over to my door. "I think Mary and Mimi need a good pranking."

"Oh God, no." I whispered to myself as I followed him out of my room.

We both clutched plastic bags full of so much air they were about to burst and a plate piled high with whipped cream, made to look like something was underneath. "Now what is this for, exactly?" He held up the plate. "We place this in front of them on the table, saying we made pie or something, I don't know. You make it up." Then he held up the plastic bags. "Pretending to leave we then sneak up behind both Mary and Mimi and break the bags. Make sure they pop loudly." I nodded and we snuck downstairs.

"We made- pie." I said as I placed the two plates down. "How come I never heard you two?" I heard Nana ask. "Uh," I stammered. "We made it at Mimi's." John finished. Nana nodded, still suspicious, though. I didn't want to blow it. I swallowed nervously. "Enjoy it." I spoke quickly and slipped away, towards the stairs along with John. We stopped halfway up the stairs and crouched, slipping back down silently and crawling across the floor. I stationed myself behind Nana and John went behind Mimi, and he signalled for me to burst it. I slammed the bag into my other hand right behind Nana's head the exact same time John did. A loud bang erupted and echoed around the walls, startling both of them, making their heads fly forward, into the cream. John began laughing hysterically. I stood up and looked at Nana and Mimi's faces. Covered in the whipped cream. "What a waste of perfectly good bags and whipped cream!" Mimi began to yell. That did it. A smirk scrawled across my lips. I couldn't help it anymore. I laughed. It wouldn't stop. Laughs exploded from me, ones trapped from 11 years of hardly any emotion. I felt full, the laughing. It felt so nice. They kept coming from me, and I was on the verge of tears on the floor with John. Another thing I was not allowed to do. "Clean this up." Yelled Mimi. "Now!" That stopped the laughter. I stifled one as John and I spun around into the kitchen, grabbing cloths and wetting them.

After it had all been cleaned up Mimi and John went home, Mimi still scolding him like mad. I sat in my room, not because Nana sent me up, but because I couldn't believe it. After all those years. I shook my head. Nana opened up the door. "What you did was pretty funny- but it's wrong. Never do that again, okay?" Nana sighed. "Look, you're getting it easy. Mimi's probably going to be on John's neck for the rest of the week. No, month." She stared at me. "I hadn't ever heard you laugh before. Why not?" I shrugged. "Wasn't allowed to. Then it became a habit." Nana nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. I was instantly reminded of the poster.

As I drew I kept trying to remind myself. I still didn't like John.

Well, not that much.