"Wait! I have to tell my dad before he goes to work." I said, pausing in my packing. Will looked at me. "Then go tell him."
"But I have to pack, I can't do both at the same time."
"I can't tell him." He said. I looked at him. "Obviously. You're insensitive as far as I can tell, and he'll have a fit because you're a guy. So you can pack for me and I'll tell him while you're doing it. Don't be pervy." I headed out the door before I could see his smirk. I quietly went downstairs to the kitchen.
Okay. This had to be handled delicately. As delicately as something this could go, anyways. My dad had the habit of turning something small into a huge argument fest. For example:
Me (Age 12 in the nicest voice that I can muster): Daddy, can I go to the movies with Lindsay and some of my friends?
Dad (looking up from game): Who's driving you?
Me (trying not to cringe): My friend Val's older brother.
Dad: Is he licensed?
Me: Yes.
Dad: Does he drink?
Me: I don't know. We don't hang out much.
Dad: Let me tell you a story, sugar plum.
(Dad proceeds to tell me a horrific story about girls who are kidnapped and sold and stuff. By the end I'm ready to scream.)
Dad: Do you want that to happen to you, sugar plum?
Me: No daddy.
Dad (sickeningly sweet tone): Then you know what the answer is, don't you?
See what I mean? I had nightmares for weeks after that and Val broke off our friendship because I kept on avoiding her.
My dad was sitting at the table, sipping his coffee and reading a newspaper. I was still in my pajamas. What? They were comfortable.
"Morning dad," I said, pecking him on the cheek. He smiled. "Morning."
I sat down at the table and folded my hands, looking at him from under my eyelashes. "Daddy?"
"Yes?" He said, not looking away from the newspaper.
"I want to go away for a while." He froze, then got this look on his face, putting down the newspaper. "Why?" He asked, his voice heavy. Why? For an awesome car that a dying singer is willing to give me. But I couldn't tell him that. He wouldn't let me leave the house.
"Because. Well, I just want to take a break before I jump right back into studies."
"Who's going with you?" He looked suspicious. I gulped and faltered a little.
"Uh, um, Lindsay."
"You're sure about that?"
"Positive," I said, nodding and praying that he didn't check in with her. He looked down, sipping his coffee and unconsciously making me feel more and more guilty.
"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" He asked, looking at me.
"I'm sure."
He sighed. "When are you leaving?"
There was the sound of a car horn honking outside and I cringed. Talk about timing. My father looked three seconds away from a hernia. "Now? You're leaving now?"
"Yes, bye daddy love you!" I pecked him on the cheek and bolted up the stairs, hearing him run after me much more slowly. Thank God for aging. I threw my doors open to see Will holding a bra, wincing and then throwing it into the suitcase. I slammed my door and looked at him.
"Will!" I snapped. He looked at me and put two and two together, snapping the suitcase shut and headed toward the door. I barred his way. "What are you doing?"
"I'm leaving."
"Not out the door you aren't. I don't want my dad's last image to be your dumb ass running down the stairs dragging a suitcase behind you. Now climb out the window."
"No!"
"Do it now, Will!" My dad was yelling too loudly to hear our little discussion. He huffed and went to the window, then froze and swore loudly.
"What?"
"Why did you have to buy such a conspicuous car?"
It couldn't be. I walked to the window and sure enough, there were about seven cars parked outside my house, video cameras and cameras with microphones trained on the front door.
"So what are we gonna do?" I asked.
"Why are you asking me?"
"Because this was your oh-so-brilliant idea, because you're the one who jumped into my car, because I'm leaving home already, because they're here for you, and because I don't know what to do myself! Now do something!" I seemed to be listing the problems that he brought to me a lot.
"Okay woman! Just give me a second to think."
We sat in silence, watching my neighbors come out and try to see what all the fuss was, and Miss Mary, the old scrooge, shaking her fist at one of the cameramen. No one had seemed to notice us standing by my window. Thank God dad had been to lazy to chop down the oak tree outside my window.
"I've got it!"of He whipped out his phone and dialed a few numbers. "Hello? Micheal? Listen, do not drive the limo here, I have another ride."
He hung up and then pushed a single button, then took the phone to his ear again. I tapped my foot on the ground, folding my arms and ignoring my dad's "Jamie Georgina Robinson if you don't open the door this instant!"
"Hello? Hey Drew, It's me." Some muffled yelling could be heard even with all the noise. I leaned a little closer.
"--supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago!" An unfamiliar male voice said.
"I know, I know," Will said, moving away a little. I rolled my eyes and leaned closer so that I could hear him get bailed out. I didn't know who this guy was, but I liked him already. "I ran into a few problems, Drew."
"What do you mean a few problems?" His voice was steely.
"Well..."
"Well!?!"
"I'm stuck inside of a house with the paparazzi surrounding the premises."
He sighed and started yelling at him while Will held the phone away from his ear, grimacing and smirking a little at the same time. The phone got quiet and he cautiously put the phone back to his ear.
"Drew? You there?"
"What's the address?"
I told him the address and he relayed it, sticking a hand into his pocket. He seemed to do that a lot.
"Okay, good. Bye."
He snapped the phone shut and looked at me. "He'll be here in ten minutes, tops."
"Who's Drew?"
"Drew's my cousin, my best friend, and the third part of our little mission. He's the sensible one."
"The sensible one?"
"The sensible one," he repeated. I shook my head and opened the suitcase back up, checking to make sure that he didn't pick crap for me to wear. Pants, shirts, bras, underwear, toothbrush, deodorant, everything seemed to be in there except...
"Where's my pads?"
"You actually thought I was going to touch those?" He snorted. "Keep dreaming. You can get them yourself."
I stomped over to the bathroom and got a box of pads, then in a sudden stroke of inspiration I threw them at his head. It bounced off perfectly and he reached into the air and caught them. "What's--AAHHH!" He threw the box into the air and I started laughing, walking over and picking them up, then putting them into the suitcase and snapping it shut. "There." I said, satisfied as I ignored his glare. Big baby.
"That wasn't funny."
"It was hilarious. Who knew? Will Taylor, famous singer and actor extraordinaire, is scared of a box of pads."
"I'm not scared of them. They just freak me out."
"Why?"
"It's just what they're--wait. Why are we talking about this?"
"Because you're afraid of pads." I flashed a quick smile and went back to the window, waiting for something to happen so that we could get out of here.
I put my head down. The door was quiet, so I figured my dad had given up and gone to get a drink. He probably hadn't noticed the all the people outside. Will was just walking around my room, being nosy, and every time he scowled I knew he was thinking of when I threw the pads at his head, hehe. A sudden commotion below captured my attention and I looked down to see the most unbelievable thing.
A giant semi-truck, pulling onto my front lawn. The photographers started yelling and parted faster than the Red Sea.
"Will, you're never gonna believe this."
"What?" He walked over and looked over my shoulder. He grinned. "It's Drew. Come on, we've gotta go. And put this on." He handed me a Yankees cap. I stuffed my hair into it. "I thought he was supposed to be the sensible one."
He chuckled, opened the window, and grabbed the suitcase, slowly dropping it onto a tree branch so that it didn't make any noise. I jumped out onto the tree and started climbing down and heading toward the truck. Will was right behind me, carrying the bag and we ran, using the element of surprise to give us time to haul ass.
The people were shocked for a moment before we were swarmed. Will grabbed my hand and practically dragged me, opening the door (I'm pretty sure he hit someone in the face with it) and shoved me into the car. Jumping in after me, he slammed and locked the doors. We were all tangled up in a bunch of arms and legs.
"Stop moving!" I shouted.
"You stop moving!"
"Both of you get strapped in, and then we can get out of--"
"Drew! Go!"
"Sorry, sorry." He backed up faster than I thought possible in a semi and hit the gas, while I straightened myself out and buckled up, taking off the hat and letting my hair fall out.
He looked at me and slammed on the breaks, nearly throwing me through the windshield.
"What the hell is this?" He asked, his voice a little high. I folded my arms. "Jamie. It's not nice to meet you."
"A redhead Will?"
"She treats me like crap."
"It's very nice to meet you. I'm Drew." He held out a hand and I shook it, smirking.
"Not a big fan, huh?"
"He has the biggest head on the planet. It's nice to meet someone who doesn't worship the ground he walks on."
I turned to Will. "You should give him a car too."
"Why would he give me a car?"
I smiled even wider at Will's panicked expression and sang like canary. "Because. He's giving me a car to help him complete his bucket list with you guys."
Drew started sputtering and stuff, which made me laugh, which only made him madder as he continued to the airport. "You're unbelievable, Will."
"I know."
We got to the airport and got on the plane, with Drew giving Will looks the whole entire time. The plane was freaking huge, but I couldn't really marvel at everything because I had to pee. I rushed to the bathroom and used it, shoving Will into a seat as I rushed past. When I finished he was glaring at me.
"What?" I asked.
"You shoved me."
"You were walking slow." I shrugged, putting my bag onto another seat and sitting down.
"She can stay." Drew said. He turned to me. "You do know that you're still in your pajamas, right?"