No More Than A Student Counselor, chapter 4
About 10 minutes later we arrived at my house. "Thanks Mr. Pritchard," I said as I opened the car door and stepped out.
"Jazmine, call me Mike. Please," he said as he got out and came around to my side. He grabbed my bag and started walking up the steps.
"Ok... Mike," I mumbled under my breath.
"What was that?" he asked as he turned around about mid-way up the steps.
"Nothing, nothing," I said as I closed the car door and headed for my house. He just shrugged and continued up the steps. I walked up the steps and into my house. When I get in I see Mike on the couch in nothing but his boxers. My mouth dropped and so did I. I fell to my knees looking at Mike in shock. I closed my mouth and gulped. "Whoa. And if I may ask, why in the hell are you in boxers on my couch?!"
"What? I can't go home and my wife doesn't know I'm a school counselor and so she thinks I'm with the guys. You don't mind if I stay here a couple days...weeks...maybe even months. Do you?" he asked as he gave me puppy dog eyes.
I sighed. "Ok. Ok. You can stay. You'll just have to act like a british exhange student so my mom and dad don't get suspicious. Ok?"
"Deal."
I go upstairs to change and begin to think of Mike and how so god damn fine he looks in just boxers. 'Damn, he's built.' I thought to myself.
-Mike's POV-
I sit on the couch and look around Jazmine's house. 'Nice place.' I think to myself. I sit there quietly when I noticed a book wedged under the couch. I pull it out and notice it's an album with the school's name on the cover. 'Is Jazmine a photographer?' I wonder. I open it up and notice all these really neat pictures that seemed to be taken by a professional. I turn the page and see a few of me at a concert that I had done the previous year. "Whoa. That's awesome," I say to myself.
She had me at perfect angles. I then feel a tap on my shoulder and I jump. "Whoa you scared me," I said as I turned around.
"Sorry. I guess I'm a little quiet," she said as she walked around the couch and sat on the floor in front of the couch.
"You're a photographer, eh?" I asked as I looked at her and then back at the album.
"Yeah. It's always been a passion of mine I guess."
"Awesome awesome."
-My POV-
"Hey Mike, if you don't mind me asking, whatever happened with the other guys? You know, Billie Joe and Tre? I haven't heard any news about the band in a while," I asked as I scratched my shoulder and looked up at him.
He sighed and closed the album. I could see tears forming in his eyes. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "They got in a major accident a few months ago. They were both hospitalized for about 3 months. Tre didn't make it. And so we had to get a new drummer. That's when Billie decided to change the name to 'Killer Times.' And I couldn't take to see him writing all these songs about committing suicide so I told him I had to get away from the band. I know I shouldn't have left him because Al came up to me about 2 weeks later saying Billie killed himself and found a note beside him."
I looked up at him the whole time he was speaking, tears streaming down my face. His face was tear stained and he was starting to rub his forehead. After a while he continued, "The note read, 'To anyone who gives a damn, I just couldn't take it. I lost the greatest drummer I have ever had. My best friend left because he couldn't bare the pain of seeing me in pain and writing songs about committing suicide. And to top it all off, my wife left me and took two of the most precious things in my life away, my only 2 sons.' I know I shouldn't have left him. He was still a nervous wreck. And so I decided to become a school counselor. To get away from the music business." That's when he dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands.
I jump to my knees and wrap my arms around him. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked about that."
After a long while of trying to calm him down, he finally fell asleep. I sat sleeplessly there thinking about what he said and wondered how he pulled through without breaking down and crying before a few minutes ago. I looked at him and sighed. I then began to sing something from out of nowhere, "Listen to your heart, when he's calling for you, listen to your heart, there's nothing else you can do. I don't know where you are going, and I don't know why. But listen to your heart before you tell him goodbye."
I got up and headed to my room. Maybe I can get some sleep before school. But I doubt that I will ever sleep for the next couple of days. I just put Mike through a lot of hell asking about the band. "Damn you Jazmine. Damn you. Damn you all the way to fiery pits of hell," I scold myself quietly on the way up to my room. I had to do something to help Mike out. But what? What could I do?
"Jazmine, call me Mike. Please," he said as he got out and came around to my side. He grabbed my bag and started walking up the steps.
"Ok... Mike," I mumbled under my breath.
"What was that?" he asked as he turned around about mid-way up the steps.
"Nothing, nothing," I said as I closed the car door and headed for my house. He just shrugged and continued up the steps. I walked up the steps and into my house. When I get in I see Mike on the couch in nothing but his boxers. My mouth dropped and so did I. I fell to my knees looking at Mike in shock. I closed my mouth and gulped. "Whoa. And if I may ask, why in the hell are you in boxers on my couch?!"
"What? I can't go home and my wife doesn't know I'm a school counselor and so she thinks I'm with the guys. You don't mind if I stay here a couple days...weeks...maybe even months. Do you?" he asked as he gave me puppy dog eyes.
I sighed. "Ok. Ok. You can stay. You'll just have to act like a british exhange student so my mom and dad don't get suspicious. Ok?"
"Deal."
I go upstairs to change and begin to think of Mike and how so god damn fine he looks in just boxers. 'Damn, he's built.' I thought to myself.
-Mike's POV-
I sit on the couch and look around Jazmine's house. 'Nice place.' I think to myself. I sit there quietly when I noticed a book wedged under the couch. I pull it out and notice it's an album with the school's name on the cover. 'Is Jazmine a photographer?' I wonder. I open it up and notice all these really neat pictures that seemed to be taken by a professional. I turn the page and see a few of me at a concert that I had done the previous year. "Whoa. That's awesome," I say to myself.
She had me at perfect angles. I then feel a tap on my shoulder and I jump. "Whoa you scared me," I said as I turned around.
"Sorry. I guess I'm a little quiet," she said as she walked around the couch and sat on the floor in front of the couch.
"You're a photographer, eh?" I asked as I looked at her and then back at the album.
"Yeah. It's always been a passion of mine I guess."
"Awesome awesome."
-My POV-
"Hey Mike, if you don't mind me asking, whatever happened with the other guys? You know, Billie Joe and Tre? I haven't heard any news about the band in a while," I asked as I scratched my shoulder and looked up at him.
He sighed and closed the album. I could see tears forming in his eyes. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "They got in a major accident a few months ago. They were both hospitalized for about 3 months. Tre didn't make it. And so we had to get a new drummer. That's when Billie decided to change the name to 'Killer Times.' And I couldn't take to see him writing all these songs about committing suicide so I told him I had to get away from the band. I know I shouldn't have left him because Al came up to me about 2 weeks later saying Billie killed himself and found a note beside him."
I looked up at him the whole time he was speaking, tears streaming down my face. His face was tear stained and he was starting to rub his forehead. After a while he continued, "The note read, 'To anyone who gives a damn, I just couldn't take it. I lost the greatest drummer I have ever had. My best friend left because he couldn't bare the pain of seeing me in pain and writing songs about committing suicide. And to top it all off, my wife left me and took two of the most precious things in my life away, my only 2 sons.' I know I shouldn't have left him. He was still a nervous wreck. And so I decided to become a school counselor. To get away from the music business." That's when he dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands.
I jump to my knees and wrap my arms around him. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked about that."
After a long while of trying to calm him down, he finally fell asleep. I sat sleeplessly there thinking about what he said and wondered how he pulled through without breaking down and crying before a few minutes ago. I looked at him and sighed. I then began to sing something from out of nowhere, "Listen to your heart, when he's calling for you, listen to your heart, there's nothing else you can do. I don't know where you are going, and I don't know why. But listen to your heart before you tell him goodbye."
I got up and headed to my room. Maybe I can get some sleep before school. But I doubt that I will ever sleep for the next couple of days. I just put Mike through a lot of hell asking about the band. "Damn you Jazmine. Damn you. Damn you all the way to fiery pits of hell," I scold myself quietly on the way up to my room. I had to do something to help Mike out. But what? What could I do?
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