Spotlight- A Cool Story, chapter 4
-At Jaxon's house-
After a quick round of lemonade and day-old pizza, we listened as they started tuning up. Leo, Spider and Emmy, the three other people in the band, were nice enough and once introductions were made we listened. For being called the Logs, they were pretty awesome. Emmy was lead vocals, partial to cracking on the high notes and a soft, husky voice but it all made into an amazing sound perfect for her frail body. Leo, who played bass had shaggy sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. He took an instant liking to Stella, who appreciated being looked at since her mother made her dress like a nun, and they flirted when he wasn't playing. Spider, fairly creepy with darting white-blue eyes and shoulder length greasy black hair, was covered in tattoos and played guitar. I didn't like the way that he would look at me, but he was an experienced player. I knew why he was called Spider, though. His long fingers seemed to have an extra knuckle, and when he played, they spun magic notes. And all put together, with the steady beat of Jaxon's drums it was like something out of a dream. We stayed there for three hours, listening (only interuppted by a five-minute phone call by my mother wondering where we were, and occasional flirting), but then Emmy had to go, so they started to pack. Jaxon and I kept given each other looks, and smiling when we met each other's eyes. But when I was talking to Jaxon, a pair of thin, bony arms wrapped themselves around my waist and A body was behind me. I felt a hard... Something between my thighs and I turned around. There was Spider, smiling like something from hell.
"Hey pretty lady." He hissed, snakelike. Now it was in front of me, and I didn't like the tent in his baggy black pants.
"Hey, creepy guy. Let go of me." I said, as I slapped him on the cheek. He winced, then blushed and shoved me away. I fell back, and Jaxon caught me, hooked on the arms.
"What the hell, man." He said, angrily. I straightened myself, brushed off and ran to Stella, dragging her upstairs.
"What?" Stella said, once we were outside and I could breathe. I told her the story, and she hugged me. "C'mon. We have to get home." She said. We must have taken at least three steps, when a familiar roaring of a certain beat up old caddy pulled beside us. I grabbed Stella's arm in fear. She took a breath, and stepped in front of me.
"What do you want, Jason?"
"I want to talk to my girlfriend, who for some reason is in front of another boy's house, looking exhausted." I didn't like the way he said that.
"What do you mean?" I said, pulling Stella behind me.
"What's that on your jeans, Ramona?" I looked down. It was wet, and white. The fucker gizzed on me! I looked up, fear flowing through my veins. If looks could kill, I'd've dropped dead right there. His arm came up. I saw it, and didn't fight it. I was on the ground again, and Stella screamed. She bent down to me, but I pushed her away. He came down to me too, gave me a hard, uncaring kiss before he slapped me again. "You're MY bitch, Rae. Mine."
"I am NOT your property, Jason. Not anymore."
"What?" He stood up.
"I mean I'm not your bitch. I'm not your property, and I am not your girlfriend." I stood up, even taller than him in my six-inch leather boots. For once, it was him that was scared. Not me. I slapped him, grabbed Stella and walked away. I heard a yell, but I didn't turn back.
-Later-
I woke up, my head killing me. An old nurse smiled at me. "Welcome back, Miss Lyons." I looked at her, and she smiled at me again, sadder this time.
"My head hurts, Betsy."
"I'll bet." She put down a pile of paper and left, letting me see who was standing there. Stella, wrapped in Leo's arms. Spider, looking guilty in the corner. Emmy, paler than usual.
"Oh, Rae! I'm so sorry! I should have stopped him, I should've--"
"Stella. It's not your fault." I smiled painfully.
"What--" I asked Stella. She shook her head, turned back to Leo and started crying. It was then that I noticed my thighs hurt.
"Oh crap, he didn't..." I trailed off, met only by everyone's averted eyes and Stella's sobs. I knew. I sighed heavily, but didn't cry. I was so sick of crying. My face was swollen and bruised, and my legs were chaffed and my entire body was sore. I just looked away, and they all left, except for Stella, who hugged me and whispered "I'm so sorry, Ramona." in my ear. I gave her a half hug and told her it was alright. Then they were gone. Probably to phone my mother and brother.
-At home-
My mother drove me home, Stephan in the passenger seat and my brother beside me. Everyone was so quiet, and sad. Frankie just wrapped his arms around my shoulders and leaned his small head against my swollen one. Stephan looked out the window and my mother looked terrifyingly angry. She was going a hundred miles an hour, and changing lanes without signaling. When we got home, she slammed into her room, while I quietly sat in mine, tuning my many instruments. I hadn't played in a while (Jason didn't like it.) so it felt good for them to be in my arms. Especially my slick acid green and yellow electric guitar, signed by my dad and all his musical buddies. Billie Joe and Mike, All the members of Blink 182, My Chemical Romance and few other bands, sealed in a thick layer of clear gloss. I started playing American Idiot, when Frankie burst in.
"Rae! Dad's home!"
"Whoop-ee." I said, but I was secretly excited. Whenever Dad came home from a tour, even a small one, he brought something home for my brother and me. Frankie rolled his icy blue eyes (just like Dad's.) and ran downstairs. I followed slowly, carrying my guitar. The sight of my father, looking tired but happy, holding my little brother in a huge bear hug.
"Hey there, Ramona." He looked at me sadly. My mother had probably told him what happened that day.
"Hi, Dad." He looked happy that I called him Dad. I placed my guitar on the stairs, and my little brother backed away. My father and I were staring at each other, sizing each other up. Who would give first? I felt my anger snap inside of me, and I ran to him. He caught me in his drumming-muscled arms and spun me around, before giving me a kiss on the cheek and setting me down. I hugged him back, squeezed as hard as I could. We parted, and I could tell he was trying not to cry.
"Here you go." He sighed, pulling out a little black velvet box from his pocket and giving it to me. I could see he wanted me to open it, but I would see it later. I put it in my pocket and made way for my mother. Frankie had already ran upstairs, so I picked up my guitar and headed outside, playing every song I knew, as hard and as loud as I could, blending all of them into each other to cover any possible screaming from inside.
"Hey." I barely heard his voice over my strumming, and I stopped in the middle of Saint Jimmy.
"Hey." God, his eyes were grey.
"You're really good." He sat beside me. I handed him my guitar.
"Thanks." He smiled.
"I play drums, not guitar. Even if they are similar instruments. Though it is a pretty hot guitar." He handed it back. I smiled again, strumming it quietly, producing a tear-jerking operatic melody. "You know, you're really good. D'you think that maybe...Could you maybe... Um... Play with my band?"
"I'd love to." His smile was my reward. But then I saw flashed of what happened in front of his house. Spider. Wet jeans, The ground, his body on top of mine in the street. "Oh my gawd." I cried and fell back, breathing hard. He must have remembered what happened there.
"Shh," He said. "We won't go to my house." He took me in his arms.
"Then where?" I murmured. resting my head on his chest. He smelled good.
"I dunno." He laughed. I smiled too.
"We could practise here." I said.
"Would your mom mind? She kinda scares me." I laughed, for real this time, and wrapped my own arms around him.
"Yeah, she scares most human beings. She'll probably mind, but who cares? I could get my dad to help set up your drums."
"Really? Cool. I'd love to get to meet your parents." He frowned at how that sounded. "I mean--"
"Shh." I said, putting a finger on his lips. "I liked how that sounded." He studied my face, I watched his eyes, and then his lips were on mine, and I loved it. We parted and smiled, blushing.
"Sure is a nice sunset."
"I like oranges." He looked at me weird, and I laughed, taking my arms off him and laying on the grass. He did the same and we watched the sky go from a clear forget-me-not blue to a bruised plum. A few more kisses, and as we were getting on a roll, a few flashes came from behind us. I turned, my eyes flaming. There he was. "FRANKIE!" He squealed, and ran away with his birthday present camera. "Stupid parents." I hissed, and Jaxon laughed.
"Nice brother." He said, standing up.
"The bane of my existance." I replied, as he pulled me up. He bent over, picking up my now grass-covered guitar, and I checked out his butt. Nice. He held it in his hands horizontally and looked at all the signatures.
"Wow."
"Yeah." I said, grabbing the neck. and pulling it into me. He didn't let go, and as I pulled my guitar, he came closer too. He looked in my fierce brown eyes, I smiled into his soft grey ones, then he leaned down and gave me another kiss (and there was another flash from Frankie, but I didn't care.), then bit his lip, smiling, and whispered "Bye." Like he never wanted to leave. It made me feel good. He was halfway down the street, when I turned and ran to Frankie.
"YOU'RE DEAD!!!"
After a quick round of lemonade and day-old pizza, we listened as they started tuning up. Leo, Spider and Emmy, the three other people in the band, were nice enough and once introductions were made we listened. For being called the Logs, they were pretty awesome. Emmy was lead vocals, partial to cracking on the high notes and a soft, husky voice but it all made into an amazing sound perfect for her frail body. Leo, who played bass had shaggy sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. He took an instant liking to Stella, who appreciated being looked at since her mother made her dress like a nun, and they flirted when he wasn't playing. Spider, fairly creepy with darting white-blue eyes and shoulder length greasy black hair, was covered in tattoos and played guitar. I didn't like the way that he would look at me, but he was an experienced player. I knew why he was called Spider, though. His long fingers seemed to have an extra knuckle, and when he played, they spun magic notes. And all put together, with the steady beat of Jaxon's drums it was like something out of a dream. We stayed there for three hours, listening (only interuppted by a five-minute phone call by my mother wondering where we were, and occasional flirting), but then Emmy had to go, so they started to pack. Jaxon and I kept given each other looks, and smiling when we met each other's eyes. But when I was talking to Jaxon, a pair of thin, bony arms wrapped themselves around my waist and A body was behind me. I felt a hard... Something between my thighs and I turned around. There was Spider, smiling like something from hell.
"Hey pretty lady." He hissed, snakelike. Now it was in front of me, and I didn't like the tent in his baggy black pants.
"Hey, creepy guy. Let go of me." I said, as I slapped him on the cheek. He winced, then blushed and shoved me away. I fell back, and Jaxon caught me, hooked on the arms.
"What the hell, man." He said, angrily. I straightened myself, brushed off and ran to Stella, dragging her upstairs.
"What?" Stella said, once we were outside and I could breathe. I told her the story, and she hugged me. "C'mon. We have to get home." She said. We must have taken at least three steps, when a familiar roaring of a certain beat up old caddy pulled beside us. I grabbed Stella's arm in fear. She took a breath, and stepped in front of me.
"What do you want, Jason?"
"I want to talk to my girlfriend, who for some reason is in front of another boy's house, looking exhausted." I didn't like the way he said that.
"What do you mean?" I said, pulling Stella behind me.
"What's that on your jeans, Ramona?" I looked down. It was wet, and white. The fucker gizzed on me! I looked up, fear flowing through my veins. If looks could kill, I'd've dropped dead right there. His arm came up. I saw it, and didn't fight it. I was on the ground again, and Stella screamed. She bent down to me, but I pushed her away. He came down to me too, gave me a hard, uncaring kiss before he slapped me again. "You're MY bitch, Rae. Mine."
"I am NOT your property, Jason. Not anymore."
"What?" He stood up.
"I mean I'm not your bitch. I'm not your property, and I am not your girlfriend." I stood up, even taller than him in my six-inch leather boots. For once, it was him that was scared. Not me. I slapped him, grabbed Stella and walked away. I heard a yell, but I didn't turn back.
-Later-
I woke up, my head killing me. An old nurse smiled at me. "Welcome back, Miss Lyons." I looked at her, and she smiled at me again, sadder this time.
"My head hurts, Betsy."
"I'll bet." She put down a pile of paper and left, letting me see who was standing there. Stella, wrapped in Leo's arms. Spider, looking guilty in the corner. Emmy, paler than usual.
"Oh, Rae! I'm so sorry! I should have stopped him, I should've--"
"Stella. It's not your fault." I smiled painfully.
"What--" I asked Stella. She shook her head, turned back to Leo and started crying. It was then that I noticed my thighs hurt.
"Oh crap, he didn't..." I trailed off, met only by everyone's averted eyes and Stella's sobs. I knew. I sighed heavily, but didn't cry. I was so sick of crying. My face was swollen and bruised, and my legs were chaffed and my entire body was sore. I just looked away, and they all left, except for Stella, who hugged me and whispered "I'm so sorry, Ramona." in my ear. I gave her a half hug and told her it was alright. Then they were gone. Probably to phone my mother and brother.
-At home-
My mother drove me home, Stephan in the passenger seat and my brother beside me. Everyone was so quiet, and sad. Frankie just wrapped his arms around my shoulders and leaned his small head against my swollen one. Stephan looked out the window and my mother looked terrifyingly angry. She was going a hundred miles an hour, and changing lanes without signaling. When we got home, she slammed into her room, while I quietly sat in mine, tuning my many instruments. I hadn't played in a while (Jason didn't like it.) so it felt good for them to be in my arms. Especially my slick acid green and yellow electric guitar, signed by my dad and all his musical buddies. Billie Joe and Mike, All the members of Blink 182, My Chemical Romance and few other bands, sealed in a thick layer of clear gloss. I started playing American Idiot, when Frankie burst in.
"Rae! Dad's home!"
"Whoop-ee." I said, but I was secretly excited. Whenever Dad came home from a tour, even a small one, he brought something home for my brother and me. Frankie rolled his icy blue eyes (just like Dad's.) and ran downstairs. I followed slowly, carrying my guitar. The sight of my father, looking tired but happy, holding my little brother in a huge bear hug.
"Hey there, Ramona." He looked at me sadly. My mother had probably told him what happened that day.
"Hi, Dad." He looked happy that I called him Dad. I placed my guitar on the stairs, and my little brother backed away. My father and I were staring at each other, sizing each other up. Who would give first? I felt my anger snap inside of me, and I ran to him. He caught me in his drumming-muscled arms and spun me around, before giving me a kiss on the cheek and setting me down. I hugged him back, squeezed as hard as I could. We parted, and I could tell he was trying not to cry.
"Here you go." He sighed, pulling out a little black velvet box from his pocket and giving it to me. I could see he wanted me to open it, but I would see it later. I put it in my pocket and made way for my mother. Frankie had already ran upstairs, so I picked up my guitar and headed outside, playing every song I knew, as hard and as loud as I could, blending all of them into each other to cover any possible screaming from inside.
"Hey." I barely heard his voice over my strumming, and I stopped in the middle of Saint Jimmy.
"Hey." God, his eyes were grey.
"You're really good." He sat beside me. I handed him my guitar.
"Thanks." He smiled.
"I play drums, not guitar. Even if they are similar instruments. Though it is a pretty hot guitar." He handed it back. I smiled again, strumming it quietly, producing a tear-jerking operatic melody. "You know, you're really good. D'you think that maybe...Could you maybe... Um... Play with my band?"
"I'd love to." His smile was my reward. But then I saw flashed of what happened in front of his house. Spider. Wet jeans, The ground, his body on top of mine in the street. "Oh my gawd." I cried and fell back, breathing hard. He must have remembered what happened there.
"Shh," He said. "We won't go to my house." He took me in his arms.
"Then where?" I murmured. resting my head on his chest. He smelled good.
"I dunno." He laughed. I smiled too.
"We could practise here." I said.
"Would your mom mind? She kinda scares me." I laughed, for real this time, and wrapped my own arms around him.
"Yeah, she scares most human beings. She'll probably mind, but who cares? I could get my dad to help set up your drums."
"Really? Cool. I'd love to get to meet your parents." He frowned at how that sounded. "I mean--"
"Shh." I said, putting a finger on his lips. "I liked how that sounded." He studied my face, I watched his eyes, and then his lips were on mine, and I loved it. We parted and smiled, blushing.
"Sure is a nice sunset."
"I like oranges." He looked at me weird, and I laughed, taking my arms off him and laying on the grass. He did the same and we watched the sky go from a clear forget-me-not blue to a bruised plum. A few more kisses, and as we were getting on a roll, a few flashes came from behind us. I turned, my eyes flaming. There he was. "FRANKIE!" He squealed, and ran away with his birthday present camera. "Stupid parents." I hissed, and Jaxon laughed.
"Nice brother." He said, standing up.
"The bane of my existance." I replied, as he pulled me up. He bent over, picking up my now grass-covered guitar, and I checked out his butt. Nice. He held it in his hands horizontally and looked at all the signatures.
"Wow."
"Yeah." I said, grabbing the neck. and pulling it into me. He didn't let go, and as I pulled my guitar, he came closer too. He looked in my fierce brown eyes, I smiled into his soft grey ones, then he leaned down and gave me another kiss (and there was another flash from Frankie, but I didn't care.), then bit his lip, smiling, and whispered "Bye." Like he never wanted to leave. It made me feel good. He was halfway down the street, when I turned and ran to Frankie.
"YOU'RE DEAD!!!"
