The Now or Never Kind

So I don’t know what I was smoking when I thought that I could simply stroll back into my parents’ house after being gone—having only told them after I left (and on the machine at that)—for a week and a half and expect everything to be peachy keen.

I should have known better. Nothing in my family was peachy except cobbler.

“Where have you been?” I winced, but continued dragging my duffel bag in through the front door. The boys filed in after me, smiling and greeting my father, stepmother, and half-sister, sitting in the armchair and on the couch, respectively. That was unusual; we never spent time together unless it was dinner (sometimes) since my brothers had moved out.

I planted my hands on my hips and looked at the ceiling in thought. “Hotel on Van Ness, SFO, O’Hare, Beth’s house, O’Hare, JFK, my friend Gabe’s place in New York city…” I began listing.

Though my dad began chuckling and the band covered smirks, my stepmother Mackenzie was less than amused. “Don’t get smart with me,” she snapped, glaring at me. “What were you thinking?!”

I exchanged looks with Matt and Jesse—and Sean just for good measure. “I was thinking that my best friend needed me and that my boyfriend was a untrusting scumbag.” My family stared with wide, surprised eyes, and I smiled. “Also, I have been thinking that I need to move out, and I have an excellent opportunity to do so. So! Before we leave for tour, the guys will be helping me move all my stuff from my room to a room at…”

“The apartment in the complex my dad just bought,” Matt finished. My dad liked Matt, and his wife was at least on neutral terms; they’d both taught him in high school. “He offered us a place…” He shrugged. “It’s nice. Got a kitchen and a view…”

“Angie, this is rather sudden,” my dad pointed out. “Do you have the funds for this?”

“Well, we’d only be living there when we’re not on tour,” Matt explained, sitting in the rocking chair and not next to Danielle, who was smiling widely. “My cousin Celia offered to watch it while we are, and Dad’s giving us a major discount.”

“You just graduated high school!” Mackenzie shrieked, somehow remaining in her seat. “You don’t know anything about living on your own! You’ll just be back by the end of the summer!”

My arms fell to my sides, limp. She really thought I would fail. She didn’t understand that we were doing well. We had three tours lined up. How could she expect so little of me? Did she have such low standards for us all?

Jesse slid his hand into mine when he noticed me clench my teeth, and I took a long, deep breath. I opened my eyes and smiled, only a little spitefully. “I’ve been living on my own at least part time since I was sixteen,” I reminded. “Probably more since I’ve had to take care of myself since I was little! But that doesn’t matter, because I’m moving out. I am moving out, and my friends are helping me.”

My family and I stared at each other in silence. Danielle wasn’t at all interested in what was happening, since it didn’t affect her at all; she’d probably just tell her friends how her “famous” sister had a meltdown. My father Patrick looked tired; he didn’t like when I argued, because I always made a solid case for myself. Mackenzie was visibly seething. This was only a few steps (okay, maybe more than a few) lower than I, since my stomach was churning and my nerves told me to jump.

Instead, I sighed and turned to bring my duffel bag to my room. When I returned, nobody had spoken still. “I’m gonna go tell Mom,” I said quietly. “And then maybe Aiv and Tyrnan. If you want me to be home for dinner…” I trailed off questioningly.

Mackenzie got up and shouldered past me into the kitchen. Dad nodded in regards to my question. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said.

I sighed again. “Alright. Bye. Again.”

“Yer stepmum really doesn’t get it, does she?” Sean observed as we walked to his car.

“Nope,” I replied flatly, popping my lips at the end.

“She’s squarer than my parents,” Jesse muttered. “They at least were proud that I was on my feet enough to move out.” I climbed into the back with him and leaned my head onto his shoulder.

My mother, on the other hand, was ecstatic, both to see me and that I was being all adulty. I’m not kidding, those were her exactly words. She gave us tea and biscuits and asked a million questions about the trip. She was very interested in my date with Alex, strangely.

“Mum, I did not sleep with Gaskarth,” I said plainly, dipping a biscuit, “And I have no desire to do so.”

“Liar,” Jesse snorted. “Even I’d hit that.”

“Too flaky. Besides, he cheats on Lisa all the time and I can’t deal with that.” Matt muttered something darkly under his breath and tried to cover it by taking a large gulp of tea. I arched an eyebrow at him. “What was that?”

His eyes shot from me over to my mother. “Pat, Angie’s moving in with us,” he said quickly.

As my mom spun around, all excited, I shook my head at Matt. He shrugged, giving me that smile he used to give me back when he used to hit on me all the time. When I’d first joined the band and when he’d had a lot more to hide.

After departing from my mother’s house, I decided that I needed to see my future home. Even though I’d already agreed to move in, I thought I should make a decision about whether I liked it or not (though truth to tell, Matthew Lawrie III only purchased the finest property). So we drove into the city, with Jesse behind the wheel this time and Sean in the back with me; we discussed whether or not I was responsible on my trip. Like not filming the time we all dressed up like crazy people and wandered through Manhattan.

Jesse unlocked the front door and bowed aside to let me in. I took three steps inside and stopped, slack-jawed. The guys had already moved a lot of their stuff in, and this room was an almost exactly duplicate of the Lawries’ basement.

Only with a skylight.

“I’m done,” I declared.

The guys all looked at me like I’d grown another head. “What? Don’t you want to see the kitchen?” Matt asked.

“Or the bathroom?” Jesse put in.

“Or your bedroom?” Sean added.

I’d been shaking my head the moment they’d begun arguing, but at “bedroom” I stopped and headed down the hallway. “Ooo, good idea!” I poked my head in every door, recognising certain markers that designated which room was whose—Matt’s was easy with the big mural of photos on the wall—until I got to an empty one.

There’s probably a lot to be said, poetically, about an empty room, and if I tried halfway I could likely come up with a long exposition about it. But it was an empty room, plugs against the wall, a phone jack, grey carpet, white walls.

Hmm. That last one I’d have to fix. White walls made me feel like a loony in a cage.

“We’re not allowed to paint, are we?” I asked, foreboding already heavy in my mind.

Matt shrugged. “Probably shouldn’t, but since I’m going to inherit the place eventually, I don’t see what difference it makes.”

I scoffed. “You rich people and your money.” I beamed and hung onto his arm, batting my eyes. “Will you buy me a pony?”

“I’d sooner buy you a room of sex machines.”

Jesse snorted and I pushed Matt away. “Ew, perv.” Sean rolled his eyes. “Let’s get food. I’ve been eating healthy shit for two weeks and I’m dying for something terrible.”

“In ‘n’ Out!” Jesse exclaimed, scrambling for his jacket. I exchanged amused looked with Matt and Sean, and Jesse, once coated, pouted. “I have a fast metabolism, okay?”

“Yeh, like a ferret,” Sean muttered, strolling out the door. I laughed when Jesse leapt after him and tackled him onto the hallway floor. This was going to be good.

After we swung by for the guys' dinner and sat in the parking lot a while, they dropped me off at my dad's house and I called a greeting in running to my room to begin packing. With my happy-dancey-spaz playlist playing, I didn't hear my dad call me for dinner, which led my half-sister to be sent to fetch me.

I didn't pay much attention during dinner—though I almost never did; I mostly focused on eating. "Can I be excused?" I asked, dropping my fork and breaking the silence. "I'm not done packing."

"Angie, we have to talk about this," Dad said, not catching the furious look on Mackenzie's face.

"I'm not asking anything of you," I reminded, slouching back in my seat. "I'm making money, and I'll still visit when I'm not on tour or recording. We're thinking of making a new record in the fall, did I tell you that? Aero's still pitching us to producers, but Pete's been whoring us out left and right—"

"Rhiannon!" Mackenzie shrieked, interrupting my rambling. I raised a confused eyebrow at her. "Language! And who are all these men you know?"

My shoulders relaxed. "My point is, it'll be fine. I'll be okay!" I widened my eyes, trying to look earnest. In reality, I was moving out whatever they thought, but I thought since I'd dropped it on them upon coming home after running away, I might as well grease the knife.

...I think I'm mixing my metaphors.

Dad sighed, and though my eye started twitching in annoyance, I was thankful of his jelly-spined ways. "Fine." I had never been so happy to hear passive aggressiveness.

The band showed up the next morning, bright and early at the crack of nine. We carried out all my boxes of books, clothes, comic books, instruments, and other various shit down to the rent-a-van that Matt has procured. Apparently they didn't think all my shit would fit in our van. Next came my bookshelf, dresser, and desk,

Matt, Jesse, and I stood in my half-empty room, all staring at my bed. Sean had gone to make tea and nice with my parents, whom we'd accidentally woken up when Jesse dropped his corner of the bookshelf onto my foot. Sure, it was empty, but it still hurt like a mofo.

"Can I be honest?" Matt said, snapping his head up.

"Wouldn't recognise you if you weren't," Jesse replied, clapping him on the shoulder.

He pushed him off. "Your bed sucks, Pen. You'd be better off just getting a new one."

I rolled my eyes. "Not all of us can afford insanely comfy beds like yours, Sundance," I said dryly. "Besides, my bed at Mom's is way better, and I'd rather come home to that than the bed I've slept in since I was three."

So we took it apart, loaded it up, dragged the mattress down, and drove the arduous half a minute to my mother's house. After helping the boys and then leaving them to put the bed back together—okay, so maybe letting them have power tools wasn't the best idea—I scrawled a note on a post-it and stuck it to the computer screen.

We stole the bed! Muahahahaha!

Love R, M, J & S

P.S. We gave you another one.

I won't bore you with the details of moving into our apartment, except that us living on the fifth floor would've been way more horrible if the elevator was broken. The guys left me alone with all my furniture and boxes, free to decorate however I wanted.

Painting might come later, I decided, hooking up my clock/radio/iPod speaker system and putting on some cleaning music. I rebuilt my bed and dressed it, moved my shelves and dresser, put away all my clothes—which was stupid considering we were leaving for tour in a few days—and lined up my shoes in the closet.

After almost two hours of this, I realised I was ridiculously thirsty, so I paused my music and skipped out to the kitchen. It was an adventure going through all the cupboards and cabinets, finding what dishes the boys had bought or stolen from their houses. The classic coke glasses behind the shot glasses were a nice touch.

I slid across the wooden floor in my socks in delight and noticed that we had a balcony. Matt happened to be standing on it. I was less than amused, however, when I saw what he was doing.

"Asshole!" I shouted, throwing the sliding glass door open. Matt jumped, scrambling to put out his cigarette, but I snatched it out of his hand. "You told me you quit!"

"I did!" he exclaimed, holding up his hands in defence. I narrowed my eyes, holding up the still-smouldering butt. "I just... started again when you dropped off the map." A sigh escaped my lips. "Look, you know how I get when I'm stressed!"

I ran my tongue over my teeth, staring at him hard. I couldn't really blame him. It was a comfort thing; Matt's uncle had taken care of him when his dad was embroiled in the lawsuit again his father-in-law and Uncle Luca had smoked whenever Matt and his older sister came over to escape the madness.

So I did the only thing I could think of. I took a long draw.

"Hey!" Matt protested, grabbing my wrist and tugging it away from my face. We both watched as the stick was flung over the side of the balcony and landed in the gutter. He frowned at me as I let the smoke seep out of my mouth. "You're a singer, dumbass."

"And you're my friend, dipshit," I retorted, taking back my wrist. "You've got a pretty voice and nice teeth and a jawline to die for. Don't throw all that away!"

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Point: Callaghan." I turned to go back to my room—I had a lot of magazine cuttings and photos to arrange on the way— but he grabbed me suddenly and tugged me to his chest. I froze, taken aback, while Matt leaned him close and inhaled. He smiled, eyes shut. "Ah, the sweetness of nicotine on a beautiful woman's breath."

Matt let me go and winked as he strolled back into the apartment. I put a hand out on the ledge and took deep breaths to stop my heart from pounding. "Asshole," I muttered after a few minutes.

Being alone in my bedroom, taping pictures primarily of sexy people (many of them musicians and most of those friends of ours), didn't help my situation. Not to mention my iPod kept throwing out these velvety, sensual voices on shuffle. It only left me thinking more and more about... well. I calculated, almost to the hour, how long ago I'd had sex, and how long before that. I even factored in make-outs.

"What is your problem?" Jesse asked, eying me askance. I'd stalked out of my bedroom to clear my head after Matt and Sean announced they were going on a lunch run, in hopes that a movie might distract me. Only, Trill was catching up on Dexter and it seemed like every scene was thinly-veiled pornography.

I groaned in aggravation, rolling my head back to avoid looking at the screen, where yet another sex scene had appeared. "I don't believe I'm saying this, but I miss Ryan," I said. I instantly regretted mentioning him, since I flashed back to all the time we were together. "Oh god, Jess, you need to help me clean out my brain."

He snorted. "No, you just miss getting laid. Join the club, sister."

"...yeah. Dammit." I raised my head and tried to pay attention to the person Dexter was about to kill. Even someone covered in blood didn't detour the gnawing euphemistic hunger. Jesse patted my head, and I shuddered away from his hand. "Don't even touch me. I already feel like my skin is on fire and I might jump you."

Laughing he tilted his head at me. "I don't think I've ever seen you when you're turned on," he mused. I glared at him from the corner of my eye. "Why don't you go take a cold shower?"

"It won't help. In fact it might exacerbate the problem." I slumped lower into the couch. Why did I have to be born as a human being? Why couldn't I have been one of those asexual lizards in the desert that reproduce by cloning?

"What about Bill?"

I rolled my eyes, memories rising to the surface, and clasped my hands together on top of my head. "God, if anything he made it worse," I muttered.

Jesse snorted in amusement again. "Go make some fucking tea, you nun," he ordered. "It's been like three days. Are you gonna be like this the whole tour?" He didn't take his eyes off the screen, but continued laughing at me. "I'll get Aero to drag you to Good Vibrations and buy a vibrator."

I clapped him over the head on my way to the kitchen. "That might not work," Trill continued a few minutes later. "I mean, we're sharing a bus, and— well, they wouldn't hate having to listen to you..."

"Don't make me murder you in your sleep, Christopher."