Our weekend of being grounded has started, and I'm doing fine, but Peter won't stop pacing around our room.
He throws his hands up and groans. "I'm sick of this," he says.
I look at the clock on the nightstand. "It hasn't even been two hours yet." I go back to my book. Yesterday, Peter thought it would be a great idea to spray paint a rope white, dress up in his Spider-Man cosplay, climb to the top of a tree in the backyard, and attempt to swing like the real Spider-Man. Of course, Orion came out just as he was starting to swing and practically blew a fuse. He grounded Peter for being too reckless, and me because I was video taping it.
Pics or it didn't happen, right?
Honestly, I'm fine with being grounded. Back home, being grounded was amazing. It was like being sick. I could sit around in my room and do whatever I wanted when I wanted.
Peter doesn't have that outlook.
I put my book down and stand up from my bed. His pacing is making me anxious, so I won't be able to concentrate on it, even if I wanted to. Which I do by the way. I love this book.
"What can I do to make you stop pacing?" I ask.
He stops and looks at me. "I could really go for a caramel frappuccino."
I ignore the fact that caffeine doesn't calm him down and say, "Hate to break it to you, Peter, but we're grounded. That means no leaving to go get coffee."
He grins and walks over to the window, easily sliding it up. "What Orion doesn't know won't hurt him."
"I don't know, Peter." I'm genuinely worried about this.
"Have you ever snuck out before?"
"No." Mom would've killed me, and that's not an exaggeration. I forgot to do the dishes one time, and she locked me outside in the middle of winter in nothing but my pjs.
"Don't worry," Peter says. "I've done it a thousand times. It'll be fun."
I sit back down on the bed and pick up my book. "I'm okay with being grounded." It is the only time where I don't feel anxious 24/7.
"Fine. But you're missing out," he says in a sing-songy voice, already sitting on the window sill.
"Wait, wait. Fine. I'm coming." I put my book down and stand behind him, looking out at the drop.
"I knew you'd come around."
"That's a long drop."
He points beside the window where there's an empty trellis.
"Well, that's perfectly put there."
"I know right! Just climb down it, and we're free." He scooches to the edge of the sill and maneuvers himself onto the trellis. It shakes and moves as he quickly climbs down, and I fear that it's going to fall over with him on it.
But he makes it down and looks around, making sure no one has seen us. Then he gestures me down.
I swallow and hook my legs over the sill. Then I do what Peter did, albeit without the grace and swiftness that he had. When I place my feet on the ground, I breathe a sigh of relief. That was terrifying.
We run up to the sidewalk, out of sight from the house, and then walk normally, so we don't attract unwanted attention.
Peter laughs. "See? Easy."
"Easy for you maybe. I still feel like we're gonna get caught and killed."
"Orion won't kill us. Maybe do some other things. But not kill us."
"Other things?" My brain immediately goes to pushing us down a cheese grater into a vat of alcohol.
Peter smiles, thinking of something. "Yeah. Other things."
I look at him in confusion, but he doesn't comment further. Maybe he has gotten in trouble in the past and knows what Orion might do to us. But now he's being mean for not telling me because my brain is going insane at the moment.
I hear a car driving down the road but think nothing of it until it slows down, and the driver rolls the window down. "Aren't you two supposed to be grounded?"
We both freeze, and I look over to see Dev in the driver's seat with a grinning Sam next to him.
"Um, no," I say, but it sounds more like a question.
He laughs. "Don't worry. I won't tell. Hop in. We're going to Errol's."
Peter cheers and gets in the backseat.
I follow. "What's Errol's?"
Dev starts driving.
"This café that sells the best coffee," Peter says, one minute away from exploding. "We were just going to go get some coffee," he tells the two sitting in the front seat. "But we were going to Dunkin' because Errol's is too far. So this is perfect timing. Why are you guys getting coffee?"
That clicks something in place. "Sam!" I exclaim. "How was the submission?"
A grin spreads across his face. "It went well," he says.
Dev snorts. "Oh, please. Stop being modest. It went fucking amazing."
Sam rolls his eyes. "Fine. It went fucking amazing."
He tries being calm, but I can tell how happy he is about it. He's been working on it for months now, and I know how proud he is about it.
"That's why we're going to Errol's," Dev says. "To celebrate turning it in."
"So when will you know if you won or not?" I ask.
Sam shrugs. "Not for a couple more months. They'll email me if I make it."
"When you make it," Dev says and parks the car.
We all climb out and head into Errol's. The place reminds me of this restaurant that mom and I loved because they had fried okra for me and Marlow wine for her. Hmmm. Maybe I can get Orion to make fried okra one night for dinner.
"Do you want anything, Blythe?"
I snap out of my thoughts to see everyone looking at me, and my anxiety kicks in, dissipating any hunger I have. I shake my head. "No, thanks. I'm good."
"You sure?" Peter asks. "We haven't eaten anything all day."
I nod with a smile. "Yeah. Not hungry I guess."
He nods and orders his drink.
I look around the place, suddenly seeing and smelling all the food from the display cases and the kitchen.
Once they get their drinks, we find a table in the back next to a large window.
I make sure to sit next to the window, putting the back of my hand against it under the table. One thing I've picked up to calm my anxiety is the cold. If I'm near a window, I'll put my hand on it. The temperature difference usually helps calm me down.
Sam sits across from me with Peter on his side and Dev next to me.
"I thought you two were grounded?" Sam asks.
"We are," Peter says. "So shh."
Dev laughs and throws his arm around my shoulders. "Look at baby, Blythe. Sneaking out for the first time. How do you feel?"
I shove his arm off. "Shut it. I'm sorry you didn't feel like your parents would kill you if you snuck out. Unfortunately for me, mine would've, and it's not worth the risk."
That makes them all laugh, and I even crack a smile, finally relaxing about this whole thing. But now that my anxiety has calmed down a little, my hunger starts up, and Sam's cookie looks really good.
I must be staring at it because he tears off a piece and hands it over.
I take it from him with a thank you smile and bite into the piece. Oh my god, it melts in your mouth.
"I think the worst thing I've ever done is come home drunk at like four in the morning," Peter says.
"You're like sixteen," I almost shout, utter shock on my face.
He laughs. "Yeah. Weebs know how to party."
I sit there still in utter shock when a girl grabs a nearby chair, turns it around, and sits at the end of our table. She's wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, even inside, but I've never seen her before, so I get ready for anything.
"Sam, I need to talk to you," she says.
"Jess?!"
She takes her sunglasses off. "The one and only." She winks.
"How did you get here? How did you find me?"
She tucks her sunglasses on the front of her shirt. "I had a private investigator find you."
Sam looks at her like she's insane. "What is this? A spy movie? You could've just called."
She waves her hand and laughs. "What's the fun in that?"
Sam shakes his head. "What are you doing here then?"
"I need to talk to you. I want to quit the band."
Sam starts choking. "You what? You can't quit!"
"Shhhhs," she says. "I'm not here, remember?" She looks at each of us in turn, saying hi to Peter and Jax. She stops at me. "You're new."
I smile and wave.
"This is Blythe," Sam says. "Blythe, Jess. My older sister."
I look at him with an eyebrow raised, and he nods.
He turns back to her. "Okay. Explain to me why you want to leave the band."
"Because—"
I see a flash of light out of the window, and I look over, wondering what it was. There are people walking outside—mothers with their children, a teenager skateboarding, an old couple walking—but nothing that could cause a flash of light. Maybe it was a car driving past, and the light bounced off of it. I tune back into the conversation as I see another flash of light. Then I see the adult woman scrolling through something on her phone in one hand and holding a professional looking camera in the other. "Uh, guys..."
Their conversation stops.
I point at the women. "That woman is taking pictures of us."
"Shit!" Jess says and puts her sunglasses back on. "They found me. We need to get out of here." She stands up.
As if on cue from Jes standing up, the entire window gets blocked with people shouting things and taking pictures.
I freeze in shock, faintly hearing Sam shouting at us to get to the car.
Someone grips onto me and practically picks me up from my seat and shoves me to get me moving.
"Hold onto me," Dev whispers in my ear as we make it outside and go into the crowd of people.
I keep my head down and my eyes closed as I grip onto Dev's shirt like my life depends on it. And for me, it does. I don't do people, and I don't do crowds. I feel nauseous.
Somehow we make it to the car and climb in before Dev peels out of there.
I sit in the very back, staring out the front windshield and focusing all of my energy on not throwing up or crying.
"Sorry about that guys," Jess says, taking her sunglasses and hat off, letting her long, brown hair flow down her back. "That wasn't supposed to happen. I don't know how they found me."
"Don't worry about it Jess," Sam says. "Let's just hope that no one got a good enough picture to identify you."
"Are you kidding?" Peter says. "Let's hope they do! No offense, Jess, but getting a picture of us together could be huge for my page."
She grins. "If you wanted a picture, you could've just asked. Any friend of Sammy's is a friend of mine."
Peter's eyes light up, but Dev snorts. "Sammy?"
"Shut it," Sam says, then turns to look back behind him. "Blythe is quiet."
The car turns silent.
"Blythe. Blythe. Blythe!"
I blink, finally connecting that they're talking to me, and I frantically shake my head. There is no way I can talk right now. I open my mouth, and things could get bad.
Jess gets a sad look on her face and starts to reach her hand out, but Peter grabs it, shaking his head. He unbuckles and climbs back to sit next to me. He doesn't make a move to touch me at all, but he sits right next to me, giving me his support anyway.
The rest of the car ride is silent. Dev parks in the garage and turns the car off, making the silence worse. "So who's going to explain to Orion why you two aren't in your room?"
No one speaks up.
"Good to know."
We all climb out and head inside. No one is in the kitchen, but I hear the TV going on in the den, so we all walk in there to see the TV on a popular news channel with a little blurry picture of Jess and Peter.
"What part of 'you are grounded' do you not understand?" Orion says from the other entry way. His arms are crossed, and he does not look happy.
"It was my fault," Jess says and steps forward. "Well, not the grounding part. But," she points at the tv, "that part. I wanted to talk to Sammy."
"You know you're always welcome to talk to him here," Orion says.
"...I didn't want to intrude." She smiles.
Orion sighs. "You are welcome to stay as long as you want," he continues. "But you two," he looks at Peter and I, "are grounded." He points upstairs.
Peter takes my hand and walks upstairs. We go back to our room and plop down on his bed. He gets a blanket and wraps it around us. I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't notice when he gets his phone and earpods out until he puts one in my ear. He scrolls through something before I hear the beginning of some song I don't know. I look at him in confusion.
"You're heart's still racing," he whispers and squeezes my wrist.
I look down and finally realize where his fingers rest.
The music continues to play, but we don't talk at all. I calm down after a while, but I'm feeling lazy, so I don't move. Peter's eyes are closed, but I can't tell if he's sleeping or not.
I hear a knock on the door, and then it cracks open, and Sam peaks his head in.
I smile weakly at him, and he smiles back, softly closing the door behind him. He comes over and sits down on the bed next to me. He leans his head on my shoulder and sighs, finally showing how much of a struggle his sister showing up really was.
"I convinced her to go back," he whispers.
"That was hard, wasn't it?" I whisper back.
He nods. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine."
"I tried getting to you. When everything first happened. I saw your face. But Dev shoved me away. I would've been there though."
"I know."
"You know, that makes me glad that my parents didn't let me join the band. I would have to deal with that all the time. I couldn't put you guys through that every time I go outside."
"I don't think I could do that either," Peter mumbles.
"I thought you were sleeping," I say.
He leans up and stretches, moving Sam and I in the process. "It was more like that in between sleep. Like, you're sleeping, but you can also hear what everyone is saying. It was one of those." He yawns. "I'm happy you're okay, Sam."
I look between them, and there's something there—some connection that I wish I could be a part of too. My stomach grumbles.
Sam chuckles and gets up. "Oh, yeah. I came up here to tell you guys that dinner is ready. We're having nachos."