I Need To Find My Way Back To The Start

An hour had went by since us girls had been informed that we were running The Maine’s booth. That was also an hour since we had met John and Stephen Gomez, the guitarist and bassist of The Summer Set. Not long after that, we finally met the rest of their band, even including the super nice, female drummer named Jess. She seemed pretty cool. Then a little after that, two other bands showed up and introduced themselves. And then The Cab showed up. Ali got really excited when we met them, because she was a big fan. They were pretty nice, too.

Soon it was time to go inside and start setting up, because the super dedicated fans were starting to show up and were going to be forming a line to get in, and let’s face it—if they saw the boys outside all casual and such, they’d go freaking nuts.

“So where do we put the boxes?” Ali asked with two boxes of shirts in her arms. Camille stood next to her with the same question in her eyes and a box in her arms.

“Oh, you can just shove them under the table,” I answered with a wave of my hand carelessly. I set up the decorated tip jar and took a seat. My friends on either side of me did the same thing.

“Damn,” Ali whispered as one of the boys from The Cab walked across the venue into another room. She laughed and shook her head. “That boy is too cute.”

“He really is,” Camille smiled. Then they both looked at me, expecting my opinion.

“Uh… He’s okay, I guess. He’s certainly not ugly, just… not my type…?” They looked at me like I was crazy and I shrugged.

“Hello, ladies,” a boy from one of the other bands said mockingly suave. He held up a dollar in his tan hand. “I found this dollar in the parking lot, you see.”

Ali snorted with laughter, as did Camille. “I’m sure you did.”

“Yeah!” He insisted. “And I just wanted to give it to just the right person, so I’m gonna put it here in this tip jar,” he exclaimed as he stuffed the dollar bill in the container. And then he rather pranced away. We laughed.

I then closed my eyes for a moment, just resting. However, I wasn’t anywhere near tired. I stayed like this for about three minutes, but then my eyes instinctively opened with a jolt when Ali chimed with soft laughter to my left.

“What’s in your mouth?” She asked in a chuckle.

I looked over and saw my brother standing in front of Ali with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth and his hands down at his sides. It didn’t take much imagination to think that Garrett looked like a puppy waiting for his verbal praise and approval after just fetching a ball recently thrown across the lawn.

After first ripping a bite off the sandwich, my brother tore the food away from his pale face. “Sandwich,” he stated, his awaiting eyes never leaving Ali’s intrigued and smiling face.

She let out a giggle. “Well how cute are you?” She said the rhetorical question with a wide grin. And there was Garrett’s verbal praise and approval.

“Yup,” he replied, taking another bite. “Want some?”

She laughed once again. “I’m good, hun.”

“Suit yourself!” Finally, he acknowledged the two other females that weren’t Ali—Camille and myself. “Yeah?” He stuck the sloppy sandwich towards us in an offering manner.

“Uh,” Camille laughed, “I don’t really feel too hungry right now.” She held her hand out towards him as if a force from it would repel the food away from her.

“You’re missing out,” he stated. “Cara? I know you want some of this delicious sandwich.”

“Uh… You thought wrong, Garrett,” I responded with my nose turned up.

“Aw, come on!” He was in front of me in one quick, fluid movement. “Try it!”

“No,” I replied, holding in a laugh.

My brother then shoved it in my face and I automatically backed my head away. “Eat it!”

“Garrett,” I hissed. I could smell the peanut butter that smothered the crumbly bread and I could see the grape jelly that threatened to spill out between the slices.

“Behave, siblings,” Ali warned.

Garrett actually ignored both of us and did the following in one fast motion: he licked the food and then touched it to my face. Oh, the nerve he had.

I was revolted. “Garrett!” I screamed and stood up. I could feel the disgusting mixture of peanut butter, jelly, and bread crumbs all smothered in my brother’s cold saliva. I then let my feet stalk across the room, to the back, and into the only bathroom provided in this joint. On the way there, I could hear Ali scolding Garret. Mockingly, of course.

I shut myself in the tiny bathroom. Everything but the toilet and the sink looked to be made of wood. The light was dingy. However, despite the bathroom’s sickly appearance, it was surprisingly very clean. I was happy about this as I folded up a paper towel and wet it slightly with water. Then I wiped my face.

Knock, knock.

Ugh. Someone wanting to get into the bathroom when I was in here would happen to only me. Couldn’t they see someone was in here? It was bluntly obvious, as the door was sealed shut. When I had first approached the tiny room, the door was slightly opened, symbolizing that no one was occupying it.

Knock, knock.

I needed to come up with something. “Er… Hang on?”

“Hey, it’s me,” said a deep, familiar voice. It was slightly husky. It belonged to John O’Callaghan.

“John? What, do you have to pee? Because I’m currently wiping the crap that was contained in Garrett’s sandwich, plus his spit, off my face,” I exclaimed, frustrated. The contents were all very much off my face, regardless of the slight wetness from the water, but I was mostly buying time now.

I heard a deep chuckle through the wooden door. “No, Cara. I don’t have to piss or anything. I just… wanted to know if you wanted to hang out… in the bathroom?”

I rose both eyebrows at that one. “You want to ’hang out’ in this bathroom?” I repeated.

“Yes,” he clarified, as if his request wasn’t totally odd.

I sighed and reached over to unlock the door. He quickly pushed himself in, trying desperately not to be noticed by anyone. “Is there something you wanted to tell—”

“Missed you,” he interrupted as he grabbed onto my hips.

“John,” I warned in an urgent whisper.

“What?” He asked nonchalantly. He had a small part of his bottom lip sucked in just a little. His hands were still on my waist.

“What… What were you planning on doing in here, John?” I asked honestly.

He laughed. “What do you mean?”

My widened eyes stared at him for a moment before I skeptically stated, “You planned on doing what in here? I mean, I’m certain that our definitions of ‘hang out’ are different from each other.”

John smiled a little too wickedly and shook his head. That was all the answer I got as he pulled me closer and mumbled, “I missed you.”

I stayed still with my right hand on his chest and the other placed lightly on his forearm. He proceeded to kiss my neck gently, then moving up to my left cheek, to above my eyebrow, then finally my lips. His kiss on the mouth was harder than the rest of the kisses all over my face.

“John,” I murmured, moving my face to try to stop him. He just kissed all over the one side of my neck instead. “John, please.”

He finally pulled his face away but kept his eyes on me. “What, Cara?” He asked a little frustrated.

“I’m…” I sighed and took a step away from him. “I’m not doing this in this bathroom now. Someone could walk in on us…”

“That’s what makes it so much more fun!”

I furrowed my brow and mentally stepped back to look at the bigger picture as his statement rang through my ears. That’s what made it fun? Fun? Someone could walk in on us at any given moment or they could just knock on the godforsaken door, and things would be exposed. That was fun to him? Was I just… fun for him? Was he only doing this because he wanted the thrill of doing something dangerous? Was I just a toy to him?

“Cara…” He started in a low tone, turning his head to the side a bit as if he were about to shake it no. “Cara… Come on now…” He could see it on my face and in my eyes. He knew what I was thinking.

The only problem here was that I didn’t have any idea what he was thinking about.