Reinventing the Heartbeat

Blakey Cakes ;;

“I don’t like him.” Those were the first words out of my mouth the second my friends and I all entered Mel and Caleb’s two car garage, just minutes after walking whatshisnuts home, whose house, we discovered, was about three blocks down from ours. Just lovely. That man-whore is within walking distance to my home.

Caleb sighed, instantly knowing who I was referring to. Well, its not like it was too hard to figure out. Mel simply looked at me and laughed. I didn’t think she was too fond of Gage either, judging by our introduction to the guy. She disliked cocky guys. With a passion. Ty had no response to my comment at all. Like usual. He wasn’t much of a talker, unless he needed to be. He could give the best advice one could ever ask for, and then remain silent for hours on end. That’s just how he was.

I flopped onto the old, beaten up and stain covered couch that had become so familiar with my rear, watching as my friends got into place. A few times each week, the three of them would have band practice and I would always come over to watch. I would have much rather preferred to be playing with them, but my parents would literally freak if they found out their daughter was in a rock band. They weren’t religious control freaks or anything. They just had a reputation to keep. With my dad being a well-known lawyer and my mom one of the top caterers in the state, you could see where they were coming from. As they had told me once or twice before, they already had my appearance to worry about and didn’t need to worry about my actions, as well. Lame, right?

“Just give him some time. I’m sure he’s a nice guy,” Caleb tried to reason with me as he picked up his bass and began tuning it. Him and Ty were still unaware of what exactly Gage had said to Mel and I during second period so, obviously, he didn’t understand why we didn’t like him.

Sighing, I rolled my eyes. If he liked the guy, fine, it was his choice. I simply wanted nothing to do with him. My mind was already made up. ‘Sides, hisnice ass had already gotten in my way of Greg once today. That was an automatic no-no for me.

“Blakey-Cakes, you mind gettin’ me an orange soda from the fridge?” I looked up to see Ty smiling at me. I returned it, rising to my feet to grab four sodas from the garage refrigerator, then continued to disperse them around to my group of friends, receiving a thanks from each of them.

This was all part of the routine. Lounge, orange soda, watch them rock out, lounge, go home to my hormonal mother and tired father.

The sound of Ty, playing the opening riffs to one of their songs, caught my attention, forcing me to look up at them, Ty instantly becoming one big blur in his corner of the garage (hence the name Spazz). Caleb was a bit more chill, bobbing his head to the beat of the song while plucking and slapping the strings of his bass and screaming into his microphone at the appropriate times. Then there was Mel, standing near the center of the garage in all of her pure beauty, microphone in hand. She very rarely just stood there, in front of the mic stand. She was constantly walking around, and, in certain songs, would even stop to scream the lyrics. Mel certainly had one of the nicest voices I had ever heard. She was perfect for the band.

I was a little envious of them, to be honest. The only instruments I knew how to play were the piano (my parents forced me into lessons when I was younger) and a few songs on my acoustic guitar. But I hoped to one day learn to play the drums, and even fill the empty position in their band. That's really what was keeping them back. They couldn't expand or go anywhere without a drummer.

Nearly two hours later, I was packing up my things, getting ready to walk across the street to my house. One of the main reasons I liked coming over here after school was not having to face my pregnant mother, whom was much too close to her due date to be at work, like she’d normally still be at this time. So I would just wait until about six, which is when my dad had been coming home lately to help my mom with dinner and what not, so that I wouldn’t have to be alone with that crazy woman.

“You leavin’, Blake?” Melanie asked me, wrapping up her mic cord and placing it in a cupboard in the garage. Strands of hair were stuck randomly across her face, but she didn’t mind. She loved what she was doing.

“Yeah. Dad should be home soon, so he’ll want help making dinner I‘m sure,” I explained. She nodded her head in understanding.

Pulling my backpack onto my shoulders, I walked out of the side garage door and made my way directly across the street, noticing my dad’s car missing. I honestly did not feel like dealing with my mother, so I decided to sit at the bench under the large oak tree planted in our front yard until my dad got home.

I twisted the multi-colored star bracelet around my wrist mindlessly, humming the lyrics to the last song the guys’ had played just minutes ago. It wasn’t long before dad’s black BMW was pulling into the driveway, that familiar tired expression etched quite obviously across his face.

“Hey, daddy-o,” I said to him as he stepped out of his car, rising to my feet to enter the house by his side.

“Hey, kid-o,” he told me with a smile that actually touched his eyes, stepping in front of me to hold the front door open for me; always such a gentleman. Even if his wife gave him the urge to want to drive nails slowly through his skull at times. He still showed her respect.

The second we stepped through the front door, the scent of burnt toast and, oddly enough, carrots, and a mixture of other foods entered our nostrils, dad and I turning to each other with looks of horror on our faces. We went straight to the kitchen, only to find my mom, tears running down her face, and utensils and food all over the place. She noticed our presence and picked up something that looked as if it may have been a chicken breast at one point, more tears trailing her cheeks.

“I’m so fat I can’t even move around my own kitchen!” she shrieked in an unpleasant voice, pushing my father away when he tried to comfort her with a loving hug.

I will be so fucking happy when this child pops out, I thought, running a hand stressfully through my hair. I began cleaning up my mother’s mess as my dad ignored her when she would continue to push him away and led her to a couch in the living room, telling her we would take care of everything and call in some take-out or something instead.

It took us nearly an hour and a half to clean the kitchen, and, the entire time, I couldn’t help but think that it wouldn’t have taken us nearly as long had I not just come home after school, as oppose to going to the guys’ band practice.

Dad ended up calling and ordering take-out, just as he’d promised mom. The three of us ate in the living room - it was our little ‘ritual’ for every time we ordered Chinese - and put on a movie. Normally, we’d put out a sheet and act as if we were having a picnic but, seeing as how my mother was quite large, we just ate on the couches.

“So how was school, Blake?” my mother asked, smiling at me and taking a bite of her chow mein. Her mood swings were ridiculous, to say the least. One moment she’s freaking out about not being able to move around her kitchen, the next she’s all giddy, asking about your life. It was super frustrating at times.

But I decided to be nice. After all, it wasn’t entirely her fault she was like this. “Alright. We got a new kid. But he’s a jerk,” I said simply. I poked around my orange chicken with my chop sticks.

“Oh, honey. I’m sure he’s a nice kid. You can’t know after just meeting him that he’s a jerk,” she said, sounding an awful lot like Caleb.

I grimaced and shook my head. “No, I’m pretty sure he is. Mel thinks so, too,” I told her confidently. I looked up at the TV, where Monty Python and the Holy Grail was currently playing, taking a drink of my iced tea. “And the worst part is, Caleb invited him to hang out with us at lunch. So he’s always, like…there.” I shuddered slightly.

I noticed her look up at my dad with a small, knowing smile that he seemed to be returning before glancing back at me. “You’re right, honey. He probably is just a jerk then.” She shot another not-so-sneaky smile to my dad, which I simply glared at. I knew what she was thinking. And she was wrong. Completely and absolutely wrong.

“I’m gonna go take a shower and then go to bed. Night, mom. Night, dad.” I rose to my feet and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek before taking my dish to the kitchen and putting it in the dishwasher. I walked upstairs to my room and got my things for a shower.

Forty minutes later, I was pulling my pajamas on, ready to get some sleep, when my phone vibrated on my nightstand, signaling I had a text. I walked over to it and slid it open, allowing my eyes to wander over the short message.

Willy’s tomorrow? xoxo Mel

Willy’s was a bagel place across the street from our school. And, though most people preferred to eat their bagels in the morning when they grab a cup of coffee, we went there after school. Mainly on Thursdays. When Greg was working. Now, I’m not a stalker.I was just too shy to approach him by myself.

I quickly replied before hopping into bed.

You know it :]