My head is throbbing and my eyes seem to be sealed shut, but I eventually come to. I feel a bit disoriented, dizzy, and sick, and opening my eyes is a chore in itself. My arm twitches, and then my feet, and then my torso is twisting around, feeling oddly comfortable against what I thought was supposed to be a stage. I think I’ve only been out for a couple of minutes, but when my eyes finally snap open I see that I've been out for a long time. I’m home in bed, not under my covers but sprawled out on top of them. It’s dark and shadowy in my room and when I tilt my head I see that it’s pitch black outside my window.
Great, I think, not only did I pass out on stage, but they had to carry me home.
That’s when I jump out of bed and scramble clumsily to the door despite my whole body feeling like Jell-O and my spinning head. Poking my head out of my bedroom, I stare down the hallway, noticing that the lights are on and that there’s conversation floating up from the bottom of the staircase. My eyes widen and I glance back in my room at my nightstand, looking for the time on the alarm clock. It’s 9:42 P.M.
My eyebrows twitch in confusion and I jerk my head back out of my bedroom to peer down the hallway, again. I hear some clanking of dishes and my scowl deepens even more. The only reason my parents would still be up entertaining is if they’re waiting for something. I think that something is me.
I hesitantly step out of my room and pad to the edge of the stairs, turning my ear a bit to hear any conversation I can manage.
“Well, I think she’s going to sleep through the night. You boys should probably get going,” I hear my dad’s deep voice say pleasantly and there’s another clattering of dishes along with some mutters of agreement.
“Tell us if she’s okay,” Justin’s familiar voice wafts up the steps, tickling my ears, “she hit her head pretty good—hope she didn’t concuss herself,” he laughs.
“With her luck?” Austin counters, “She’s probably dead up there.” I scoff from my spot on the edge of the stairs, sniffing indignantly. I’m alive and functioning, thank you very much!
“Yes, we’ll have her call you all. I’m sure she’s fine,” my mother tells them airily, maybe even with a hint of tiredness. “If she hasn’t woken up yet, then I’m sure she’s just exhausted and sleeping.”
I can’t stand it anymore. I skip down the stairs, rounding the corner into the kitchen with a light whoosh of air from swinging so fast. All of their faces, Mom’s, Dad’s, Justin’s, Alex’s, Austin’s, and Kris’s turn to me with comical amount of shock, not because of the fact that I’m awake, but because I’m quite energetic for just humiliating myself in front of half my high school by passing out on stage.
“I’m alive,” I say simply, and run fingers through my hair self-consciously now that I realize I probably look like a mess and I’m in a room full of people.
“Hey you,” Justin smiles widely and strides across the room to gather me in a hug. I try not to breathe him in too much, remembering why I collapsed in the first place. He squeezes me tightly, ducking his head so that his lips brush my ear and whispers, “Are you okay? Everyone started freaking out when you fainted.”
“I’m fine, just a little overwhelmed,” I reply quietly.
He pulls away, giving me a look of steady confusion. “Tell me later?” he offers.
I want to shake my head no because I can’t tell him that I feel this disgustingly cheesy, magnetic pull to him, but am developing something for someone else. How can I tell him that I don’t trust him and that I hate him but love him and want him at the same time? How do I explain that we’re all out to get him because he’s egotistical and has desperation for fame wafting off of him like a cheap perfume? I can’t tell him anything because it won’t be the truth and I feel sick with this mixture of guilt and pleasure for lying to him.
I nod anyway. I nod because even though I have nothing to say to him, I have to act like I trust him even though I don’t.
All in the name of Karma.
His lips twitch up in a smile and he ruffles my hair. “Alright, goodnight, Carrots. I’m glad you’re okay,” he says with satisfaction. He turns to join the other boys as they walk out of my kitchen, waving and saying things like “we’re glad you’re not dead” and “get well soon” all the way to my front door.
When they’re gone the house becomes quiet and my mom’s eyes catch mine. My dad steps past me, pecking my cheek before jogging up the stairs. When he’s gone my mom’s expression turns heavy.
“Do you want to tell me what happened tonight?” she asks with motherly intuition showing all over her face.
My mom and I have been getting pretty close these days and I know I could probably tell her anything, but I feel like a bad person. What if she thinks I’m a bad person? What if she doesn’t take my side? What if she’s no help at all? Then what? The guilt is already making me faint. What next?
I swallow slowly, wrapping myself in a hug as I rock back on my heels. “I just fainted,” I tell her as convincingly as I can. Her eyes bore into mine and she shakes her head. Sighing she steps forward and pulls my hands into hers.
“Why don’t you sit down, I’ll make you some hot chocolate,” she offers softly, squeezing my fingers gently. I let out a long breath and nod.
Sitting opposite her at the breakfast bar, I watch as she pulls the kettle of water off the stove and flicks the cupboard open to get a mug. She fills it and starts mixing in some cocoa. I let out a breezy laugh as she plops in a few marshmallows and sets the mug in front of me, resting her elbows on the counter as I take a sip.
“What’s going on, Reese?” she wonders, her hands clasping together in front of me and her lips pursing ever-so-slightly.
I lower the mug from my lips, licking the chocolate from them and shrug. “Am I…” I stop, biting my lip, knowing my question is only going to bring on a longer heart-to-heart with my mom, but decide to continue anyway. “Am I a bad person?”
She frowns, bringing her clasped hands to rest under her chin. “I don’t know,” she replies, “Are you?”
I blink a couple of times, my fingers tracing the handle of the mug. “I feel like I am.”
“What makes you think so?” she asks, tilting her head with interest and watching me with that sound gaze of hers.
My stomach sort of flips and I stare into my mug, watching the marshmallows turn frothy from the heat of the warm drink. Just say it, I think. It shouldn’t be that hard. She’s my mother for goodness sake!
“I—uh—I’m…in an essence…using Justin,” I stutter out awkwardly, now clutching my mug with so much force I’m surprise it’s not cracking in my grip.
Her eyebrows rise considerably and her lips part in surprise. “Oh,” she says quietly, “why?”
I sigh heavily, my grip on the mug loosening some. “He’s using us to get famous so the rest of us are using his thirst for fame to humiliate him when he gets it,” I say quickly, squeezing my eyes shut so I won’t see her reaction to my confession, which makes pressure rise off of my heart with every word.
“Reese,” my mother says with only a little harshness, “I want you to think about this, okay. You have this amazing thing happening for you, right now. You’ve got friends, a band, a boyfriend, a mural up in school, and no real reason to be doing this to yourself or him.”
“You don’t understand,” I snap, my eyes opening with a steely glare, “Mom, he tried to sleep with me so that I wouldn’t leave the band when I found out we were being used for his benefit.”
Her hands drop back to the countertop with a thud, a furious and disgusted look taking over her features. “What?” she hisses protectively, “He tried to make you have sex with him?” I nod guiltily, feeling only a tad bit embarrassed, but mostly feeling bad because I just ratted Justin out to my mom, of all people. I know he’s a jerk and everything, but there’s still that hopeless attachment that is making me hate him even more. “That asshole!”
I gasp in surprise at my mother’s crude language, unable to stop the giggle that escapes my lips at her flustered red face and outburst.
“Yeah, but that’s not the only thing,” I tell her and then begin relaying everything that’s been happening in my life since the beginning of summer, and by everything, I mean everything. I tell her about Laney betraying my friendship, Stephanie’s suspicious behavior with Justin, my growing affection for Sean, and all of the little details in-between. My mother decides to come around and sit beside me at the breakfast bar, stealing sips of my hot chocolate, and gasping at bits of my juicy teenage gossip. When I’m finished spilling my guts she stares at me in silence and gulps down the last of my hot chocolate.
“Sweetie,” she begins and stands up, “I think you should do what you think is right. If I were you, I would have ditched a long time ago. If I did pull through, though, I wouldn’t let some dumb teenagers keep screwing with my life. I don’t think what you’re doing is right, in fact, I think it’s very wrong. But, I know you want to make decisions on your own, and I think this is one that you should really think about, okay? Don’t just jump to conclusions; figure out if your hypotheses are true,” she tells me seriously and then rubs my shoulder comfortingly before walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving me to figure this mess out on my own.
Maybe I’m not ready to be doing this all on my own.
~*~
I’m tidying up my room, making the most of my time since I decided not to go to practice today, when I hear loud knocking from downstairs. Sighing, I tuck the edge of my comforter neatly into place and jog down to answer the door since my house is empty of everyone except me.
I’m actually not surprised to see Sean at my door since I discovered about six text messages on my phone from him after what happened last night at the Lunch Box.
“Hey,” I say casually, giving him a close lipped smile and averting my eyes.
“Hey,” he says back, pushing his hands into his back pockets, “I just wanted to make sure—“
“I’m fine,” I interrupt before he can finish the now irritating question, “Look, I think we need to talk.”
“Yeah,” he nods, “I agree.”
I let him in and lead him into the living room, patting the couch next to me, indicating he should sit down. He does and immediately turns his body to face me, opening his mouth to say something. I cut him off before he can.
“I like you a lot,” I say quickly, watching as he relaxes and gives me a soft smile, “but I have this thing with Justin that’s not going away and it’s confusing me. Help me,” I say helplessly and flinching when he lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair and rest them at the nape of his neck and turn his face away.
“I thought you might say that,” he sighs and licks his lips before he continues, “I can’t tell you what to do or how to feel, okay. I think I can, but I can’t. I don’t want to confuse you, that was never my intention…Sorry, I’m babbling…” he laughs nervously, rubbing his hands on his jeans.
“That’s okay,” I smile reassuringly, reaching over push his hair from his forehead because it’s hiding his eyes, “I just wanted to let you know that I realize this whole situation is messed up and to please not get mad with me if I start to act stupid. I’m trying to straighten all of this stuff out in my head.”
“Yeah, I get it,” he tells me, reaching for my hand and removing it gently, “Just please don’t lead me on while you’re figuring it out.”
“Sean,” I groan, “I like you, I told you that. I wish it was easier than this. It was your idea for me to stay with Justin for Karma. Please don’t—“
“Sorry,” he says, cutting me off, “I know, I know. It’s just a bit irritating to think that he’s being a jerk to you and gets to kiss when I’ve been trying for so long to get you to even look at me the way you look at him, and now that you do I don’t even get to move on it.”
The confession makes my heart swell. I can only imagine what it feels like to look at someone you love and see them being happy with the wrong person. Sean doesn’t look at me now, just turns his head away. I don’t like the feeling that crawls under my skin. He needs to know that he does mean more to me than he thinks, that I really mean what I say. Acting on impulse, I duck down slightly, moving my face to line up with his and then throwing all caution to the wind, capture his lips in mine, touching his cheek gingerly with my fingertips.
He’s caught by surprise, but is soon kissing me back slowly and softly, as if he’s afraid, and that saddens me, disabling me from feeling the little shots of electricity that are shooting up my spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. After a few seconds, he pulls back, turning his face away and leaning away.
“Sorry,” he mutters quietly, “but I can’t. Things are different. You’re not sure what you want and I don’t want to get hurt.”
I bite my lip, guiltily and shift back, feeling my stomach twist uncomfortably.
“Sean—“
“Really, Reese,” he sighs, “just wait.”
“Wait for what?” I snap irritably, my fingers digging into the cushions of the couch.
“For Justin to get out of the picture!” he snaps back, “I’m not risking anything.”
I know he’s right. Sean’s always right. I hate that he’s right. I wish none of this was happening with Justin and the Heartbreakers. I wish that I had realized my feelings for Sean earlier. I wish I could just drop out of the band without causing a huge amount of drama and rage. I wish everything was different.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I mutter, crossing my arms and feeling suddenly vulnerable. An uncomfortable silence settles between us afterward, and my eyes flick up to look at the clock. My spirit lifts instantly. Tilting my head back to Sean, I drum my fingers a few times on my lap. “Hey,” I finally say a little stronger than before, “want to come and pick something up with me?”
He looks at me blankly. “What?” he asks.
“Remember the necklaces I took from everyone?” I ask. He nods slowly. “I got them engraved. C’mon, let’s go get them.” He seems hesitant, even a little embarrassed. I’ve already decided to forget what happened between us a couple of minutes ago and move on, but he seems stuck in his emotions.
“I—um—sure, I guess,” he finally replies, his voice cracking a little at the end. There’s that feeling. The feeling that makes me want to cuddle him. I quickly push it away. Jeez, when did I become such a girl?
~*~
The bell on the door jingles as I open it and hold it for Sean. He walks behind me unsurely, his eyes flitting around the room as he enters. I have the urge to reach for his hand, but remember what he said and mentally slap myself for even thinking of something so stupid. Gosh, where did all of the desperate neediness come from, anyway?
The same guy as before, Mike I think, is sitting behind the counter drumming his fingers and clicking away at his computer, barely noticing the bells.
“Hi,” I say sweetly as I lead Sean to the counter, “I’m here to pick up those necklaces.”
Mike swivels around on his stool and smiles at me. “Yep, they’re ready to go. I’ll be right back.” He gets to his feet and disappears through a door behind the counter.
I turn to Sean while we wait. “I got yours fixed, by the way.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” he says quickly, fidgeting around with the hem of his shirt.
“You’ll like it, I promise,” I smile reassuringly up at him. He sends me a quick smile of his own before going back to biting his lip.
Mike returns with five small black boxes and sets them down on the counter for me to take. “There you go,” he says, “good to go. Have a nice day.”
“Thank you,” I say politely, gathering up the boxes. Sean helps, picking up three so that I only have to hold two. We leave, but I don’t waste much time. As soon as we’re out the door I begin pulling the boxes apart. The first one is Alex’s, so I put it back. The next one is, thankfully, Sean’s. Smiling, I pull the necklace from the box and dangle it up for him to see. It’s on a new chain and on one side it says “Sean”, but on the back, in neat letters it says “Karma”.
Sean laughs, making my lips curl up into a delighted smile. “That’s so cool!” he gushes, taking the necklace from me and examining it. “Thank you,” he smiles genuinely, pulling me into a short hug because a long one would be way too personal, considering what’s all happened today.
He eagerly pulls the necklace over his head, and touches it fondly.
“I think this is what Karma feels like,” he says.