August 2, 2012
I felt my newfound comfort retreat when she got up. As she slipped out the door, I squinted through the abyss that was her pitch black bedroom to the glowing number series on her digital alarm clock. 5:19. I was disoriented, but alert, eager to find out where she was going, but unsure if I should follow. Against my better judgement, not that I really had one since following her was a good judgement to me, I went after her. She walked in the opposite direction of the bathroom, so I deducted that from my mental list. I lost her on the first floor and wandered around aimlessly for a few minutes before stumbling into the kitchen.
"Lynn?" I jumped slightly, grabbing my now racing heart.
"Jesus." I gasped.
"Nope." She laughed quietly. "I'm Sam."
"You scared me."
"Really? I had no idea!"
"Your sarcasm is noted."
She just laughed some more. "What are you doing up?"
"I could ask you the same question." She rose her eyebrows at me and lifted her glass of water.
"I was thirsty. Your turn?" She took in my panicked face and smirked. "Seems I'm not the only thirsty one." She bit back a laugh at her own joke and sipped her water. I tilted my head in confusion before blushing madly.
"I am not." I muttered.
"So you weren't following my sister?" I knew my silence said more than words would've. I just looked down to mask my embarrassment at being caught. "Basement."
"What?" I looked up to see her smiling at me.
"Alexa. She went to the basement, probably to practice. She does that alot. Go on down, I'm sure she'd welcome your company." She elaborated.
"Thanks." I said appreciateively.
"Mhm." She nodded, gulping down the remaining water in her cup. "Oh and Lynn." She began as I started walking away.
"Yeah?"
"I'm really happy you're here. You'll be good for- to her." And with that she was gone.
I crept down the stairs, careful not to make them creak, and halted at the bottom, listening to the single instrument symphony. I recognized the tune immediately. She was playing our song, a piano rendition of it. On occasion she would hit a wrong note, stop, and I would hear pencil on paper. Then she would start the measure again with the corrected note.
"Lyndsey." she called out and I froze. "I know you're there."
I debated making a break for it, but figured it would be pointless since I couldn't escape what she already knew. I peeked my head around the corner to find her looking my direction in amusement.
She patted the spot next to her on the piano bench and I slowly advanced forward with a sheepish grin. I hesitantly took a seat and fiddled with my fingers.
"Do you play?"
"Kinda, I mean, not really. I dabble."
"Define dabble."
I shrugged with a small laugh. "I know enough to say I dabble."
She shared in my laugh and reached out to grab my nervous hands and place them on the keys. "Play me something."
I stared at the tiles, racking my brain for a song I knew I could sing well enough to be considered even remotely not subpar. "I'll, uh, this is my ringtone, like, it's, uh, the part of the song- the lyrics, I remember best, because I hear it whenever it rings, well obviously, and I'll forget the whole- if I start from the beginning, I, yeah... anyway, I'm going to stop talking now." I closed my eyes and let the chords be my backbone.
Here I'm standing in the middle, not just a little but a hill full
Wondering how I got a head cold, wishing I didn't know what I know
It's never been about the money, we're worthy or we are not worthy
However much you got on your plate, you're as good as you reciprocate
We all pretend to keep our tongue out of our cheek
Everyone's the fool they seek
We all go off the track, and feel for our way back
Everybody breaks a glass
I bit my lip, awaiting her reaction.
"You ever wish you could bottle up a moment in a jar? I'd put a cap on that."
"Really?" My insecurity asked, no doubt the apple of my cheeks tinting pink.
"Really."
I ran a nervous hand through my hair and she giggled, a sound like home made wind chimes, childlike and free. "What? What'd I do?"
"Nothing it's just..." she poked my nose, to which it scrunched and she giggled that cheerful, adorable fucking giggle again. "That! You did that when you were singing! And then you did it when you touched your hair just then. It's so cute do it again!"
"It's so stupid is what it is!" I contented, but it was impossible to be at all mad, so I matched her smile. "You were playing Rain."
"Mhm." She hummed. "Every song you build up, you should be able to strip down." She tapped a note and another.
"All your acoustic versions are guitar?" It was meant to be a statement, but it delivered as a question. "I didn't know you played." I thought aloud.
"No one does." She smiled faintly, answering what I was about to ask. "I taught myself in college. I'd sit in the practice room to think on nights I couldn't sleep, but eventually thinking was hurting, so I'd play to forget."
"Why didn't you ever play this one?"
"This piano was used for almost a century with a book that condemns who I am, on its mantle. You see, when I was younger, my grandfather traveled back to his parents home in Argentina where he grew up to take a photo. He didn't have one and was 'getting too old for memory to serve him.' He returned with this piano from the chapel where his father was once a priest. He washed, sanded, polished, retuned it and gave it to us, so he could teach my sisters and I how to play, but I refused to go near it. Then my grandfather stopped by to visit while my family was on vacation. I, uh, didn't go. So he knocked, walked in, walked down here, sat on this bench and motioned for me to sit too. With no introduction, he said 'When I was thirteen, I told my mother I was going to the library on the corner and instead I bought chewing tobacco from the kid down the street. When I was eleven, I stole candy from a shope. When I was seventeen, I copied test answers from a classmate. I've lied, I've stolen and I've cheated. We all sin and all sin is equal. If I can play this then you can too. Anyway, It'd be a shame for a talented musician to neglect an instrument.' Then he got up, clapped me on the back and left. I wrote Cucha on this piano the next day."
"You should write a memoir." Was all I managed to say. She threw her head back and laughed. "I'm serious. It'd be my favorite book."
"I'll probably never forget that. Thank you."
"You're welcome. That's my favorite song by the way."
"Cucha?"
I nodded. "Rebuild too. And What Lies Between."
"Pick the happy songs will you?" She asked sarcastically and laughed.
I snorted. "You're the one who wrote them!"
"Touchè." She side eyed me, suppressing a smile. "I was angry and upset, but I learned that the world doesn't stop turning. It moves on, so I did too."
"Angry and upset warrant some of the best art."
"Are you saying my music is art? My ego likes you."
"I was going to add don't..." I pointed "let it go to your head." and she smiled crookedly. "That'll be of no use though, so okay big head, tell your ego thanks."
"Oh now you're talkin smack. If I recall correctly you think my big head is very not bad to look at."
"I don't recall." I looked away.
"Like hell you don't!" She laughed.
"So about Rain, I was thinking we could sing the start in halves- I take one verse, you take the other..." She rose her eyebrows at my subject change, but smirked and listened to me ramble on about my ideas, giving input of her own.
"LYNNN!" Brian yelled. "LYNNNNNN!" Alex echoed.
"I think your friends are looking for you." She stated the obvious.
"Yeeaaaahhh."
"ALEXA!" "ALEEEEXXA!" "LYNNNNNNNNN!" "ALEXAAAAA!"
"Well there's Rhys and shine and a cup of Morning Joe."
"Those are quality puns."
"We should probably head upstairs before those knuckle heads make breakfast."
"Oh, they cook?"
"No." Cue the crash.
We raced to the source of the sound and were met with a pack of guilty dogs. Brian was wearing a chef hat and an apron surrounded by fallen pots and pans while Rhys stood by the sink, detached faucet in one hand, smoking oven mit in the other. Joe held an open bag of flour, but most of it was in his hair and Alex was cradling a blender. Sam chose that moment to make an appearance as well.
"I don't even wanna know." She sighed.
"We're making pancakes." Joe held up the bag, ignoring Sam's previous statement.
"Are you supposed to be the pancake flour boy? And what's with the blender?"
"It's for the pancake mix. Duh."
"Dude. Even I know that's not what you put it in." Brian chimed.
"That's what she said!" Alex shouted and they all high fived him. Lame.
"Starbucks?" Sam asked us.
We concurred and got ready quickly. I didn't bother to change my shirt, just slipped on black jeans, converse and put my hair in a ponytail. Alexa was in the hallway securing her keys on a clip to the belt loop of her jeans. She looked up when I exited my room and adjusted her navy blue snap back so the caramel leather bill was slightly diagonal. "Okay let's go."
Having other girls to talk to that weren't groupies with butterfly tattoos, unblended extensions and valley girl laughter at everything the guys I hung around with mop hair, cd sized plugs and dollar store equivalent tattoo shop sleeves would say, was nice. I hadn't realized how much I'd like hanging out with Sam and Alexa for them being cool girls rather than just being cool human beings. We were walking through a local park, coffee in hand and the sun was out through the trees, warming the sidewalk.
"So what's the plan? You starting song arrangements today or what?" Sam directed at us and I looked to Alexa.
"Yup. As soon as your lover gets here." Alexa smirked. "Ow!" She whined when Sam punched her in the arm.
"He's not my lover." Sam said in a high pitch. "But he we would be already if you would quit cockblocking." She scowled.
"We've been down the you dating my band member road before with Sean and it ended terribly. I'm looking out for you." Alexa defended, offensively.
"Lynn. Help me out here." Sam practically begged.
"She is being a wise older sister..."
"Exactly." Alexa said with a triumphant smile.
"But-" I continued "If Dane makes her happy and he genuinely cares for her and would treat her right, why get in the way?" Alexa seemed to consider what I said, sighed and rolled her eyes so hard she'd gone bowling.
"Fine. Whatever. I'll back off, but only if you let me talk to him first. I haven't known him long enough to fully trust him yet." She said reluctantly.
"Yes! Thank you thank you thank you!" She jumped up and down and hugged Alexa before doing the same to me. "You're an angel!" She praised. She tugged on both of our arms. "I wanna be there when he gets there." Her eagerness was endearing and her smile radiated light that of which a christmas tree emits.
In the time we had been gone, Joe managed to wash his hair and the boys collectively made the breakfeast of champions- poptarts and fruit cups.
"We were going to eat cereal but Joe burned it." Rhys stuck his tongue out at him and then pouted. "I'm still hungry."
"How do you- never mind." Sam shook her head. "Move, I'll be generous and make you eggs and bacon."
The four boys huddled around her while the sibling I wasn't standing with arrived to the kitchen with news.
"Lex, uh, just a heads up. Business trip got cut short, so Mom and Dad will be here later this afternoon." Gabe addressed her with a sympathetic smile.
"Looks like you guys'll be meeting the rents." She said unenthusiasticly to me.
"They know we're here... right?" I asked her concerned.
"Oh yeah, of course. They're fine with you guys staying here." She assured.
"Then what's- what's wrong? If you don't mind me asking."
"We don't consistently get along, but they'll like you three, don't worry. And I doubt they'd start shit with me in front of guests anyway."
-
Rehearsal lasted several hours and with our group dynamic we finished arrangements for the song first day. We'd known each other for less than twenty four hours and were already behaving like best friends. Alex and Joe had been sword fighting with Joe's drum sticks while Brian and Rhys engaged in a bass battle, but one mentioned a 'sick ass skate park' near by and they took off with Sam and Dane, who had been flirting in the corner like a couple of middle schoolers after Alexa pulled Dane aside and lectured him "man to man."
Alexa and I were left alone and now she was deciphering the tabbing she'd done for the guitar parts because I couldn't read or write sheet music. I learned by ear which she assured was whatever. She'd teach me no problem, though I still felt like I was unintentionally making things difficult. Lights' everybody breaks a glass blared from the carpet by my knee. I sighed at the caller id. "It's my mom." Setting my guitar aside, I sent an apology smile to Alexa for my phone's interruption. She waved it off and preoccupied herself with her notes.
"Hey."
"How are you?"
"I'm fine."
"That's all? Fine? All I get is fine? I take time out of my day to call you because you didn't, like I asked, and all I get is fine?"
"I'm great Mom, everything's great. I'm sorry I didn't call yesterday."
"Are the guys cute? Boyfriend material?" I was going to be irritated by the time this phone call was over. I stood up, walking a meter away.
"I'm focusing on the music." I tried to derail the topic.
"Oh really?" She snapped, quite rudely, might I add. "Because you seem awfully focused on that singer."
"Excuse me?"
"You started talking to that girl and now all you wear is black like her. God forbid you shave your head like that or wear your pants that low."
"How do you-"
"I have instagram Lynn. I've seen pictures."
"That's not-"
"I did some research, read an interview and I don't want you to be influenced by people like her."
"Okay what's that supposed to mean?"
"That girl is a lesbian." She hissed.
"Shocking. I had no clue."
"So you knew? Sweetheart" I frowned at her hostility using my dads name for me "there's informative books and websites about how they take advantage. She's older than you and you're... inexperienced, easy to confuse-"
"I'm going to need you to stop right the fuck there." I raised my voice, defensive of the girl I liked. Alexa's head snapped to look at me, aware of how suddenly upset I was.
"Do not use that foul language with me! What has gotten into you?" The voice on the line asked, appalled.
"According to you, apparently Alexa." Who's eyebrows shot up at the mention of her name.
"Stop doing that."
"Stop doing what?"
"Patronizing me! I'm trying to help you before it's too late and so help me god it better not be-"
"Too late."
"You are no longer welcome in my house."
I threw my phone across the room at the dial tone, watching as it bounced off the wall and landed on a bean bag. It hurt to swallow the rock in my throat and my eyes stung as if the air were pepper spray. Standing, she pulled me to her, tense at the contact. When I relaxed into the hug, she did too. My head rested on her shoulder as it had the night before. "Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really." I mumbled, still trying to hold back the waterworks.
"Don't bottle it up." She rubbed my back like my dad used to when I was little and trying not to cry and similarly, I became a broken faucet.
"I got myself kicked out." I admitted.
"Wha- serious? That's- how could... please say you'll be okay? You have somewhere to stay?"
I nodded. "I doubt my dad will stand for it."
"If he does?" She prompted gently.
"My best friend has his own apartment, so I know I could go there. I have the band too though. Alex usually lives in New Hampshire, but he moved in with Brian and his dad a couple months ago, so band stuff would be easier. Brian's dad is a literal angel, so I know I could also go there."
It was quiet for a while until she spoke up. "Apparently Alexa what?" She asked in reference to my phone call.
I let out a bubbly laugh, finally letting the reality of what I had said to my mom register. "My mom thinks you've changed me because in my preppy try hard highschool years I wore pastels, only we both wear black now and she thinks maybe I'll start to go bald and wear my pants like Justin Beiber too. She also said... accusations... which are upsetting and she was all like 'what's gotten into you' so I got sassy and said 'according to you, apparently Alexa.'"
"Lyndsey!" She yelled, trying to be stern, but her protests were lost in her laughter. "Your mom thinks I'm a monster and you used it as leverage to be a smart ass?"
"Okay I'll admit not my finest way of handling a situation." I had a burning question and said what so happened to be a perfect lead in phrase. "How'd you tell your parents?"
"Well, when Angela was in elementary school she saw a girl kiss me and then told, but Sam jumped in and convinced our parents it was an emo boy with long hair and tight pants..."
"Wow, what a sidekick."
"Right? The real mvp. Ironically, I told my mom over the phone as well, same age as you. I'd been at college for a few months stressing over wanting to show off my girlfriend on myspace and tumblr and talk about her when I went home for holiday break, so I called my mom with the intention of telling her I'm gay and I did. Then I hung up."
"Are they, um, like do they accept... it?"
"There's no short answer and you probably don't want to list-"
"I like listening to you talk."
"You do?"
I nodded. "You answer my questions candidly. No shrine of mystery, no levels, no talking in circles, no avoidance. You're as honest as your music, I want to learn from that."
"I really gotta keep you around." She shook her head. "As much as my parents have a problem with me being gay, they don't have a problem with me. There are times where I'll be the caged animal they like to poke with a pointy stick. Then they get upset when I react as if they didn't provoke me, but we're still family. Like one night's screaming match- I lost it and now there's a hole in the kitchen wall. Right after my fist met drywall, it met wood foundation and the skin splintered. My dad cleaned the blood while my mom tweezed every wood chip, disinfected the wounds with alcohol and wrapped my hand. She changed the bandages every hour and made an icing schedule to lessen the swelling. Then she actually made me dinner, which she'd stopped doing years earlier because I could cook for myself. Now that wasn't the last time she'd express her disdain for my sexuality, she believes it's a choice I make, but that also wasn't the last time she showed that she cares for me."
"You seem at peace with it."
"I guess because I am. If something they don't like about me doesn't stop them from loving me, then something I don't like about them won't stop me from loving them. They're good people despite their beliefs complicating the openness of their hearts sometimes."
"I wish I had the patience to always find a bigger picture."
"Don't wish always. That'd be perfect and perfect is a bold faced lie. Everybody breaks a glass, remember?"