I ended up balling my eyes out into Sean’s shoulder while he held me, rocking slightly and letting me just cry. I feel kind of embarrassed about it now, going completely sheer and letting myself become completely undone. I would have rather cried on Austin’s shoulder. Austin has this strange combination of soft and smart that works well against my stubbornness, but Sean was patient and gave a great hug, so I can’t complain.
Afterward, I followed Sean back to Justin’s garage, brushing away tears and flattening my hair the whole way. The boys looked relieved that I had come back, letting out sighs and showing me small smiles. Justin was the only one who wouldn’t make direct eye contact with me. I couldn’t tell if he was choking on his own pride or embarrassed for going off on me. Either way, I didn’t want to have anything to do with him either.
Later though, after practice, he pulled me aside and waited until the other boys left to say he hadn’t meant anything he said.
It’s hard to believe him, though. Before, he didn’t even have to think about it, it came out of his mouth faster than he could stop himself. We had set up the perfect opportunity for him to tell me what he really thought of this whole situation. The trial situation.
He can apologize all he wants, but until he can prove otherwise, he’s won’t be getting what he wants anytime soon. Controlling our anger is what both of us need to work on, and it should be done separately and not together. It’s clear that the stress from the past couple months has finally hit both of us square in the face. I decided to break down, while he took the verbal approach, venting. I think we both just need to take a deep breath and start over.
Now, it’s Wednesday afternoon. I’ve gone back to my old routine after finishing the mural. Even though I have no more artwork to turn in, I still go to Mrs. Boots classroom during lunch. She isn’t here today; she was on her way out when I arrived, explaining she had lunch with her daughter and that I could go in as long as I locked up afterward. I told her I’d be fine and she left while I wandered over to the back counter. Now, here I am, atop the counter with my knees pulled to my chest and my head resting against the wall, eyes closed.
I’m thinking about my previous class, the one I share with Justin. He said he was sorry again, under his breath of course. He can’t let anyone know he’s sorry for anything. He’s cocky and he has a reputation. He says sorry rarely or not at all and he hates it, I can tell. I gave him an exaggerated expression, a face I give when I’m not impressed with someone or something—a simple raise of the eyebrows and tight smile. He wouldn’t give up though, whispering all of class while Miss Myer was telling us how exams would work. I tried to ignore him, to let him know I needed some well-deserved space, but gave in eventually and rolled my eyes.
A timid knock on the door forces me to lift my head up and open my eyes. Austin and Kris stand in the doorway lifting a sandwich and iced tea for me to see. I nod, signaling them to come in. Austin shares a look with his boyfriend before coming to the back counter, setting the small lunch down beside me.
“You look awful.” Kris points out as I’m opening the iced tea, which makes an audible pop as the lid loosens.
I snort, and quirk an eyebrow at him, “Thanks, that’s what every girl wants to hear after a fight with her trial boyfriend.”
He frowns and Austin jumps in to his rescue, “He only means that you look down. Still upset about what happened yesterday?”
I shrug and nod for them to sit, which they do, dropping their backpacks to the ground with a soft thud.
“Just thinking, that’s all.” I reply in a faraway voice, my attention on the lunch they’ve brought me and my mind completely elsewhere.
They both sigh, Kris louder than Austin because he doesn’t really understand. Austin offers a small smile and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Anything we can do to help?” he asks. It might not sound desperate, but I know what he must be thinking. The sooner we get this all cleared up, the better.
I think for a moment. Unless they can go back and undo things from yesterday, I don’t think they can do anything to help. This all started over a silly song, but blew up into something bigger when neither Justin nor I could agree. It’s silly, really, how something so small can make both of us go off.
A song. That’s how this whole argument started. A song.
Then it hits me.
Yes, they can do something, actually. Since Justin’s song isn’t happening anymore, obviously, that means we’ve got an open spot for another song, my song. It ought to teach him a lesson. Don’t trap me and I won’t trap you.
“The song.” I say abruptly, my head turning so that I face them both. They both give me a confused expression, Kris fiddling with his fingers as he tries to decipher the meaning. I don’t give him much time though because I explain myself quickly, “Justin can’t do his song anymore. I want to do my song.”
“And you think that’s going to make this all better?” Austin snorts sarcastically, shaking his head.
“No,” I answer, “but it’ll put him in his place. I know I can’t just waltz in and expect you guys to do stuff for me, but think about it. The song’s perfect, and if he’s paying attention then he’ll get the message.”
Kris rolls his eyes, “Bonnie Tyler and Pat Benatar seem to be the answer to all of your problems.”
I sigh and scowl at him, “No, it’s just the perfect opportunity. I don’t play to get even, remember? I play to win.”
“What are you talking about?” Austin asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. They are so not following me right now.
“This war between Justin and I is not over. I thought it was, but he still thinks this is a game of Candy Land. I’m not another piece in his game and I intend to bring him back to square one.”
“You’re overthinking this.” Austin says flatly, standing up now and gripping the counter in front of where I sit, the sandwich in my lap, “Another sassy move like that and you’re sure to lose Justin—and I know you like him, you just don’t like admitting it.”
I sigh loudly and slap the sandwich on the counter. Sitting up taller, I cross my arms and tell him, “Yes, I like him, I’m not afraid to admit it, thanks. I just know how he is and I don’t want to end up like all the others. Plus, you know, Sean isn’t making this any easier. He has me questioning everything. So, please, don’t blame this on me.”
Austin shakes his head, “I’m not blaming you for starting any fights, okay? I’m blaming you for the choices you make that start these fights,” he sighs, “Reese, you’re decisions are going to start something. I really don’t want that. None of us do.”
I turn away from him, catching eyes with Kris, who nods.
Grumbling, I whisper, “I was thinking the song would make him come after me, not start another fight.”
There is a long moment of silence, Kris shifting uncomfortably while Austin just watches me. I don’t move, and I don’t dare take back anything I said. It’s too late. I hate this. Why can’t I just trust Justin and be done with it? Oh yeah, because the stupid scale rings a ten every time Justin and trust are in the same sentence.
“Kris and I will learn the guitar part this afternoon. It can’t be that hard, can it? I’ll try to get Alex in on it too, I can’t guarantee anything for Sean.” Austin finally says.
I turn my face up to him, a smile growing quickly. Kris smiles too, but weakly. He doesn’t like this at all. He’ll agree with Austin on the outside, but on the inside he’s telling me no. Still, they both allow me to hug them and leave, saying they have to find Alex and Sean.
I don’t move from my spot and finish my lunch just before the bell rings. Tonight could be challenging.
~*~
After school, I pull on a different pair of shorts and a tank top. The Lunch Box is always warm and humid on performing days. Too many people push their way into the café and the air-conditioning can’t keep up with the body heat. I’ve learned my lesson. The key is to not wear so much make-up, because it will melt, and to wear the lightest tank top you have—lots of deodorant too.
The entire time I’m preparing for tonight, I’m practicing the chorus of the song. I tend to mix up a couple of the words, and although I know I can fake my way through it, I refuse to give a poor performance. I play the song a couple times on my iPod and sing along, playing with my voice to see what fits. I don’t hear anything from Austin or Kris, so I don’t know if the song is even happening or not, but I must come prepared.
Stepping out of my room, I come face to face with my mother. She looks me up and down, knowing I have a gig tonight.
Shaking her head she points to my bedroom, “Put something over that tank top and I know you have longer shorts.”
Groaning, I slap my forehead with the palm of my hand, “Mom, it’s hot in there. If I put on longer shorts and a t-shirt I will die of heat stroke.”
She gives me the look and I find myself marching back into my room, slamming the door behind me. I really don’t have a say in this anymore—she tells me what to wear, how to dance, and she has a list of songs I’m never allowed to sing. She’s like my own personal manager. Just—no.
So, I change into a t-shirt with the shortest sleeves I can find and put on shorts that aren’t the heavy jean type, or my legs will sweat. Tying my hair up, I wipe away some eyeliner I had smudged, because I know she’ll comment on that too. She’s outside my door waiting when I open it up. She shrugs at my appearance and then looks down at my shoes and I know I’ll have to change them too. So I do. I trade my boots (which I thought added some edginess to my look) for some girly flats. Mom finally agrees.
Congratulations, Mother, I now look like a preppy little middle schooler. I appreciate it. Note the sarcasm.
Despite my wardrobe change, I’m still ready an hour early and am surprised by the knock at the door and A.J. calling for me. Stumbling down the stairs, I can make out three skateboards and two guitar cases.
“You have some boys here for you.” A.J. winks. I roll my eyes and push him out of the doorway; however, he still hangs out in the back so he can hear everything.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask the three boys who are standing on my doorstep.
Sean answers first, “We’re here to get a little practice in before the show.”
“Alex is with Justin setting up.” Kris adds.
“Justin doesn’t know what’s coming.” Austin smiles, although a little weakly.
I beam at them. Sean decided to help us out. I guess he must be trying to set things straight. He’s done with this all of that nonsense, I hope.
“Great, come in.” I giggle.
All of the boys try to push themselves in at once, failing hilariously. However, once they’re in, I show them up to my bedroom, A.J. smiling like the devil the whole time. As they say in Romeo and Juliet, I bite my thumb at you, sir.
Leading the way upstairs, I let them in my room, which hasn’t been cleaned in ages because I’m lazy. Austin, of course comments on how “I just knew you weren’t the clean type” and Kris’, “Girl, even my room is cleaner”. Sean doesn’t say anything, which is great because my cheeks are red enough at this point.
After talking about the state of my room, Austin and Kris pull out there guitars while Sean studies sheet music for the song. We practice for the remaining hour, the boys getting silly on me, making the background vocals sound like dying cats. Sean smiles more than I’ve seen him smile in a long time and we’re all just a mess of giggles and random guitar strumming.
Soon, it’s time to leave for the gig so we all grab our skateboards and run out the door, smiles stretched across our faces and our cheeks flushed with laughter. The day is warm and damp from the summer rain we had last night and we splash through puddles, sprinkling each other with the muddy water.
As we approach the café we make out people loitering outside in the parking lot while others find seats inside the dimly lit restaurant. There are quite a lot of people here, and I think I remember seeing the posters for tonight’s gig that Kris made, announcing my return. It’s amazing to see how excited they are for my return. I think they like me because I give Justin attitude, and because we put on a good show. It must not be the same with just Justin standing on stage alone without someone else there to start playful banter and entertaining sing offs.
Meeting up with everyone in the back room, Alex sends us a sneaky smirk. Justin is freaking out because we don’t have an opening song, the other boys reassure him, saying that we don’t need one. I love this. I love it when he doesn’t know what’s coming. Surprise.
“We need one,” Justin insists, “I had one until somebody had to go and ruin it.”
Sean scratches the back of his head, looking away while I rock on the balls of my feet, looking away as well. We both feel pretty guilty.
“Just sing the second one, Bring Me to Life, that one will work just as good.” Alex chimes in just as the door opens and we are told to take the stage whenever we’re ready.
“But we’re still missing a song.” Justin frowns.
“It doesn’t matter, everything will be just fine. They won’t be expecting much if I just got back.” I say, placing my hands on my hips and nodding to the door.
“C’mon, let’s go. They’re waiting.” Sean urges, his hand gripping the door handle to turn the knob.
Justin groans but stalks to the door anyways, Sean opens it for him and we all jog out of the room, waving to the clapping crowd.
Justin plasters on a smile and does his usual opening. He announces our names, calls us the Heartbreakers, says his bit about being “Knight, Justin Knight” and how he’s going to sweep every girl off of their feet and carry them off on his “snow white steed”. Then, Sean begins to play the beginning of Bring Me to Life by Evanescence softly on his keyboard, the eerie tune filling the room.
How can you see into my eyes like open doors?
Leading you down into my core where I’ve become so numb
Without a soul my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
until you find it there and lead it back home
I sing slowly and strongly, the unnerving melody sending shivers down my spine. Alex begins beating on the drums, beginning the initial climax of the song while Austin and Kris pick at their strings steadily and quietly, creating a spooky crescendo. There’s a brief pause where everything becomes silent and then Justin’s voice yells into the mic and the boys slam down on their instruments, making everyone in the room jump.
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside
(I can’t wake up)
Wake me up inside
(Save me)
call my name and save me from the dark
(Wake me up)
bid my blood to run
(I can’t wake up)
before I come undone
(Save me)
save me from the nothing I’ve become
I follow after every order, singing the almost desperate lyrics as sweetly as possible. The song really isn’t the best with my voice, but I give it all I’ve got.
As the song continues, my voice clashes with Justin’s. He does much better with this song than I do. Nevertheless, it doesn’t sound awful, and if it does, then I blame it on me being under rehearsed. His voice sounds strong, determined, following the lyrics perfectly. Mine can’t hit some of the notes properly and I end up improvising.
Even though Justin and I are still upset about yesterday, we try not to let it interfere with our performance. We face each other as we sing, motioning at the other when the lyrics allow it. His eyes stay on mine, only looking away when he sings to the crowd. I can tell in his eyes that he’s still thinking about how this song shouldn’t be opening tonight. That he should be asking me to be his girlfriend instead. I try to keep my face blank and emotionless, disabling him from reading anything I’m feeling.
The end of the song approaches and as it does we end up singing over top of one another. Justin is practically screaming into the mic now, the desperateness still aching in my own voice. The last words that leave his mouth are almost whispers and I draw out the last note until I can’t hold it anymore.
Bring me to life
(I’ve been living a lie, there’s nothing inside)
Bring me to life
The haunting song dies down as Sean plays the final notes on the keyboard. In front of us the audience is quiet until Sean hits the last note and then it bursts into applause, which I can’t believe at this point since I don’t think I did well at all. My eyes scanning the teens in front of us, I see numerous phones raised in the air recording us. This makes me blush, wanting to hide my face.
Face turning, I see Justin smiling at the group, blowing kisses.
Of course.
Okay, it’s official. I have a problem.
I want to tell him to knock it off, but I can’t. Not in front of everyone. It seems that without me officially his girlfriend he thinks he can do this stuff. That’s ending, pronto. The thing is, I don’t want this to be another trap. Is he purposely doing this to tick me off so that I beg him to be my boyfriend? He knows this kind of thing makes me jealous beyond reason.
Trying to ignore it, I look over my shoulder and signal Austin to begin Justin’s solo song. That puts an end to Justin’s crowd flirting real fast.
During his solo of Creed’s My Sacrifice Justin comes over to wrap and arm around my waist, the mic in my face as he sings at me for the first verse. I smile at the crowd and push him back playfully.
No, Justin, we are not going there today.
He keeps getting up in my face the entire song, and I start to believe he’s trying to get me all fired up, trying to push my buttons to see what happens. But, no, he couldn’t be.
We sing a few more songs including more popular, overplayed songs on the radio like Ghosts and Somebody that I Used to Know to make people who like those kind of songs happy. The end finally comes and Justin’s about ready to say goodnight when Kris and Sean start playing their instruments, imitating a song that has the entire crowd go nuts. Justin frowns, baffled and caught off guard. Then, he looks right at me and scowls.
Austin and Kris are singing some background vocals and Alex has started in with some light beats on his drums. Justin’s about to say something when I begin singing, raising my hands up in question when I begin.
Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream
of what I need
My voice is much less gravelly than Bonnie Tyler’s, instead I carry a low, but sweet tune. It doesn’t make the song any less powerful, though.
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life
Justin plays cool in front of the crowd, pretending like he knew this was going to happen, but every time he glances at me, he gives me a dirty look.
Listen to me Justin! Stop fighting.
I walk up to him slowly while singing the next part, holding onto his shoulder and looking off into the distance as if imagining the perfect hero.
Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There's someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat
It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life
The music continues on and I let go of Justin to encourage the crowd to cheer louder. The music is loud, but nothing compared to their cheers and wild waving of phones.
I come to the edge of the stage, raising my hand up above my head and sing loudly and clearly, making my lungs tighten in my chest, leaving me breathless.
Up where the mountains meet the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I could swear that there's someone somewhere
Watching me
Through the wind and the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach
Like the fire in my blood
Winking at the crowd, I twirl around and march back over to Justin, pulling on him as I lean forward, singing forcefully—to the point where I’m afraid my voice is going to crack if I push it anymore.
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life
I let the instrumental go on for a long time before finally singing the last line. Sean’s fingers are slamming across his keyboard, his lips pressed against his mic as he helps Kris and Austin who are playing a little timidly for fear of messing up. I don’t even know what Alex is doing, and I have a feeling I don’t want to know.
I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
And with that the applause heightens. Cheering fills the room. I wave out to the audience, cheering along with them, laughing.
When I look over at Justin, he’s set his mic back on his stand and has his hands in his pockets, putting on a cheesy smile for the crowd. The others are behind me, wiggling out from behind instruments to come to the front of the stage with me. I scoot over to the edge of the line, closest to Justin and reach out for him so that we can do a group bow. He sighs heavily but wraps an arm around my waist as I wrap one around his and Alex’s, bowing deeply.
Leaving the stage, we all pile into the back room. Alex mentions something about seeing Stephanie in the crowd and tells us he’s going to go try to find her, to apologize for whatever he did. After him, Kris and Austin leave together, saying they have to study, but they wink to me on their way out and sneak a look at Justin. Sean almost looks like he’s going to stay, but the three of us in the room together must make him uncomfortable because he hurriedly packs up and leaves.
Justin exhales loudly, sitting down on the small couch. I bite my lip and sit on the arm of the couch, looking down at him as he runs his fingers through his hair.
“You need a hero, huh?” he asks quietly, his hands coming to rest underneath his chin, his elbows propped up on his knees.
I shrug even though I know he can’t see me, “No, I need someone who’s not going to fight with me about everything.”
Groaning, Justin closes his eyes, “I’m not perfect.”
Answering quickly, I say, “Neither am I.”
Eyes still closed he slides his face down so that his forehead rests against his knuckles. I sort of slide off the arm of the chair to sit next to him. Quiet takes over, it’s uncomfortable and I don’t care for it much so I say something.
“I think we need to start over—alone, but then I don’t want to lose my opportunity, because you’re making me like you, and as much as I hate that, I don’t want to lose that feeling.”
His eyes flutter open and he turns his head, eyes sweeping over my face. His lips are parted as he breathes out slowly from them.
“You’re dumb for liking me, everyone’s right about that,” he says lowly, his voice on the verge of husky and I gulp, waiting for him to continue, “I made you like me, it worked. I did the cheesy stuff, and I did the arrogant thing that I know you like, and it worked. I can make girls do whatever I want, so it’s no surprise that you like me.” He says and turns his face back down to face his knees, his eyes shutting again.
I feel the blush of embarrassment crawl back onto my face and my lips tighten into a thin line, my heart beating fast. Those words disgust me, they hurt.
“I won,” he whispers, “I got the most stubborn girl I’ve ever met to admit she likes me and mean it,” he chuckles and I have half a mind to get up and leave but he keeps talking, “but I’ve worked too hard for those words to come out, so I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”
Wrinkling my nose, I ask, “What are you saying.”
He sits up straight suddenly, and his eyes burn into mine.
“I want you to be my girlfriend, for real, none of this trial business. I’m sick of it. I want people to know. I’ve worked too hard to gain your affection and I’m not leaving that in secret anymore.”
“I would say yes, but I don’t know if I can trust you.” I tell him angrily. I have right to be angry after everything he’s said.
“Do you really think I’d do anything to screw this up after all I’ve gone through to get you in the first place? Hell no.” he hisses, his eyes squinting in annoyance.
I glare at him, “Fine then. Let’s do it. Prove to me you aren’t the ass everyone thinks you are. I dare you.”
“You dare me?” he chuckles, and shakes his head, “Is this a challenge then?”
“No!”
“Well then, quit saying it is just to make you feel better. You don’t like it, but you like me, so get over it.” He orders, rolling his eyes.
“Fine, great, whatever,” I say while crossing my arms, “where do we stand then, Justin Knight?”
He looks at me a moment, opening his mouth to say something, but stops. Taking a deep breath, he shuts his eyes. I figure he’s trying to calm himself down. When his eyes open, he brings a hand up to twirl around a lock of my hair, and then lets it fall to my necklace, where he runs a finger over the engraving of my name.
“Carrots,” he starts and smiles childishly at the nickname, “I think you should be my girlfriend. And, if you say no, I won’t hesitate to spend another couple months trying to make you say yes, because I think I might have actually, for the first time, fallen for a girl who I want to spend more than a week with.”
The whole time he’s saying this I’m looking directly into his eyes; I can always tell if he’s being sincere by the color and softness of his eyes.
He’s being sincere. The grey of his eyes are light and soft, even in the dim lighting of the room I can tell he’s trying his best to be genuine.
For the fun of it, I take a deep breath and answer, “No.”
His jaw drops and his hand drops from my necklace into my lap.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” he growls.
Wow, I’m almost afraid he’ll turn into the Hulk, which actually makes this more hilarious. I press a hand over my mouth to muffle the giggles and large smile. My body shakes as my giggles grow louder. I really can’t believe he fell for it. I’m not the best actor around.
“Why are you laughing?” he asks crossly. I don’t answer, I’m choking on my own laughter watching him get flustered, “Reese,” he tries again seriously, the scowl growing deeper on his face and then he realizes, “Oh my god,” he breathes, “you were kidding, weren’t you?”
Nodding, I drop the hand from my mouth and laugh openly.
“That wasn’t funny!” he swats me playfully, holding back laughter of his own.
“You should have seen your face,” I say in between fits of snickers.
“Stop!” he begs, still refusing to laugh and swatting me some more. I shake my head so he tackles me. I lean back on the couch, pushing his hands back with my own, and kicking my feet up to push him away, “It wasn’t funny!” he whines.
“It was funny!” I argue.
“Wasn’t!”
“Was!”
“Wasn’t.”
“Was.”
“Wasn’t!”
“Oh my gosh, Justin just kiss me already!”
He laughs, rolling his eye and shaking his head. I allow him to push my hands away and he leans in to place repeated kisses on my lips between small giggles.