"Becky, is it?" Keegan smirked at her again. "So, you're the little interloper who's stolen my room."
"Your room?" she repeated, looking around for reassurances. "I don't understand."
Kell pulled up a chair next to her and rested a hand on her knee. "Keegan used to live here."
"Keegan Fiendly, at your service, young miss." He quirked a suggestive eyebrow at her.
Suddenly, it all made sense. The things she'd found in the bottom drawer of the dresser in her room must have been his. Then she recalled the racy magazine and blushed.
"What's going to happen now?" Becky asked, realizing that obviously he would want his room back. The worry must have sounded in her voice because she felt Kelley's hand tighten around her knee.
"I suppose you'll have to find other accommodations, Becks," Keegan said flippantly.
"No..." she gasped, looking pleadingly around the room, her eyes resting on Kelley's pained expression. "But..." She couldn't leave now. They were family.
Visions of having to go back to the dorm swirled through her mind. Just the thought of leaving the House of Goths to go back to that soulless dorm made her nauseous. The very idea caused her to shudder. "Please... I don't want to go."
"Becky's not going anywhere," Kell affirmed, gently squeezing her knee, wanting nothing more than to wipe the worry from her lovely green eyes.
"Damn right, she isn't!" Crispin hissed.
"Really, Keegan? You're dreaming if you think you'll be moving back in here," Dorian snickered while Crispin shook his head.
"You took off without a word! With no thought to your portion of the rent or the fate of the band. You know I can't sing and play lead at the same time," Crispin challenged. "Suddenly, you show up here, hoping to take up where you left off as if nothing happened?"
"Oh, come on. I've already said I was sorry," Keegan argued. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have left in the first place. Think of the band. With me back in, we'll be awesome again. You can concentrate on your singing."
"He's only back because he got dumped," Dorian scoffed.
"I was an idiot, okay? Yes, I got dumped. When Brittany asked me to move in with her, I just couldn't say no. You guys would never have understood."
"Damn right, look where that got you," Crispin spat.
"The minute I moved into her place, she started on about me changing my hair, my clothes..."
"Ah, yes, the classic story of Goth boy meets mundane girl, they fall in love, then suddenly Goth boy has to change because he doesn't quite fit into her world. Blah, blah, blah," Crispin said with a shake of his head.
"Listen to you," Keegan argued, pointing his finger accusingly at Becky. "My bed isn't even cold yet, and you've replaced me with your own little mundane girl."
Becky flinched at his tone. How was any of this her fault? Instinctively she leaned in closer to Kelley.
"Hey!" Kell shouted, glaring angrily at the dishevelled Goth. "You point your finger at her one more time and you'll never play guitar again."
Fairly warned, Keegan sat up with his hands up in surrender. "Point taken, no need to get violent."
Taking a deep calming breath, Kell spoke next. "You can move back in if you like." Audible gasps of disbelief sounded throughout the room. Kell held his hand up to silence his disgruntled housemates. "But you can't have your room back."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Keegan balked. "Where am I supposed to sleep?"
"Basement, garage, front porch, I don't care. It's your choice."
As relieved as she was to know the Goths had her back, Becky couldn't help but frown at the way Crispin and Dorian laughed along at Kelley's suggestions. It wasn't long ago when she'd come to them, looking for a home.
As much as Keegan's untimely return upset her, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He'd obviously made a mistake. He'd said so himself, and he had apologized.
Although they hadn't met in the nicest of ways, she wasn't opposed to having him around. Even if he wasn't as appealing as her other housemates in both personality and appearance, she could get used to having another Goth in the house as long he didn't mind sharing it with her.
"It's November..." Keegan argued feebly. "I'll freeze out in the garage." It was true. While the place was fine for band practise, the electric heater wouldn't be enough to keep it comfortable to sleep in.
"Basement it is then," Kell said resolutely.
"Fine... I'll take it," Keegan said, sufficiently humbled.
Becky frowned thoughtfully. The basement? She'd never been down there. She'd seen the stairs leading downwards from the mud room but never dared venture there.
***
The balance of the day was spent with Becky watching quietly while the guys helped Keegan move into the basement. She'd even gotten up the courage to follow Kelley down there out of sheer curiosity.
"Careful, love," he said, pointing at her bare feet. "The floor's quite cold and there might the odd sharp object about."
"I'll just stand over here on this rug by the stairs."
"Okay, but don't come any further," the concerned Goth said, grabbing a broom and sweeping the rough cement floor."
"Got that, Becks?" Keegan winked as he passed her, carrying a heavy duffle bag and a lamp. "Wouldn't want you getting pricked."
"Shut the fuck up," Kell groaned. He was already regretting letting Keegan move back in as it was. The last thing he needed was to get into a fist fight over Becky's sensibilities.
"It's Becky, please," she corrected him, purposely ignoring his rude innuendo. The last person who called her Becks was Jax and she never liked it even then.
"Really, dormouse, you shouldn't be down here," Crispin said, carefully maneuvering the old chesterfield from the front porch down the narrow staircase with Dorian.
"I don't mean to be in the way," she said, shuffling backwards. She suddenly felt like a fifth wheel. Her emotions were all over the place today. From Jax's treatment of her last night to Keegan's untimely return, she couldn't help but be upset. She blinked back the unwelcome sting of tears, focusing her attention on the chesterfield, watching them prop it open.
"I'm supposed to sleep on that?" Keegan said with a frown.
"Got a better solution?" Dorian asked, punching and slapping the dust off the couch's surface. "You've even got your own private bath," he teased, pointing over his shoulder at the huge vintage sink in the back of the cavernous space.
"Right, well, I could have my room back if you all hadn't rented it out to little miss touch herself."
There might have been less than five seconds between Keegan uttering those unfortunate words, the sound of gasps throughout the room, and Kelley's fist hitting him, square in the chin.
"Damn it, man!" Dorian winced, torn between watching the fight, and chasing after Becky who had just screamed and ran up the stairs. In the end, he decided that rescuing Keegan from sure death was best.
"Dare I say it?" Crispin said, throwing his head back in despair.
"What the fuck was that for?" Keegan lamented, righting himself, checking his busted lip for blood.
"Becky's a nice girl. She's a true lady in every sense of the word," Dorian explained, carefully insinuating himself between Keegan and a still seething Kelley. "We don't talk like that around her, understand?"
"What?" Keegan, repeated dumbfounded.
"The girl's a fucking virgin, you dolt," Dorian explained, looking worriedly back at Kelley's enraged expression.
"Talk to her like that again, and I'll cut out your tongue and shove it down your mangy throat!" Kelley threatened menacingly.
"Holy shit! So what? You all just... I mean, we're supposed to fucking pussyfoot around the place in case we offend her?" Keegan asked, aghast. "This is the House of Goths, for fuck's sake."
The three Goths cast each other withering glances, Crispin sitting down on the steps, Dorian on the chesterfield, and Kelley leaning up against the wall. It was true. Since Becky had come along they'd all had to adapt. Yet it had happened so naturally and gradually that neither of them had taken much notice, well, except for Crispin in the beginning.
Question was, would they have it any other way now? Not a chance.
"I don't believe this," Keegan said, looking around disgusted. "I don't even think I want to be here."
"It is what it is," Crispin said, calmly but firmly. "Don't make us choose. You will lose."
****
To be continued...
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House of Goths Copyright © 2014 by Maria Bernard ISBN: 978-0-9938067-3-5
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