Sonata

Wednesday would be the night when my life would resurrect; laugh in the government's multiple faces. I knew from the moment Curtis uttered "secret show" that I was in.
There was no way I could pass up such a chance out of old, exhausting fear of getting caught for something so unjust, so once I asked them the time and date, they grinned and said, as mentioned, Wednesday.

It didn't settle well in my brain, for one because I expected a day ranging in the weekend, and two because it would make it that much harder for me to flee from home.
I tried to keep my feelings in a high place though by mentally saying , over and over, that if I wanted it bad enough then I would find a way to make it happen.
That fate always won in the end.

Both boys seemed quite estatic that I was joining them for a night of "booze and brashing", and in the height of their excitement, told me that they would be the ones providing the entertainment.

"Wait, so you guys are in a band?" I asked suprised.

They chuckled full heartedly.

"Of course love. I play guitar an' Matty hits the pots an' pans. Why, does tha' irk ya?"

"No, not at all, I'm just...impressed. How are you able to get away with practicing?"

"Well,"
Curtis said with deeper masculinity,

"Don' need much o' tha'. Talent comes natch for me, but I dunno about the others. They call for hours of rehearsal."

Matt rolled his eyes; a signature trait that was obvious in the short amount of time I've seen him.

"Poor bloke takes months teh master one song."

I laughed lightly with him as Curtis' cheeks grew to a shade similar to a tomato. He scratched the side of his head uneasily and glared at his companion.

"Way teh toss me under the decker yeh arse, I'm not a total lost cause. A baby can do wha' yeh do."

"Yeah Curtis, I'm sure yeh could." Matt mumbled.

This opened up a whole new door for an aggressive debate, one that included a style of name-calling I had never been exposed to and minor, childlike violence like wet willies and soft arm punches.
It was funny for a while, until things escalated.
Matt had Curtis down on the asphalt in a constricting headlock as Curtis flailed his arms helplessly.

"That's enough horseplaying children." I scolded in a laugh.

They both gave me baffled looks.

"Eh, wha's 'horseplayin'?" Matt questioned as he then gave his friend a noogie, who yelled out in anger.

"Horseplaying is what you're doing right now."

He let go of Curtis immediately; feigning an innocent look as heaving could be heard to his left.

"Oi, this was nothin'. Curtis an' I have a scrap all the time. if tha's called 'horseplay', then consider what we do bull-fightin'."

I laughed even more at his attempt to incorporate american slang into his british understanding, but not in a degrading fashion.
I thought it was cute. I had never met such an obvious foreigner before, and it was quite a new encounter. He didn't seem to notice nor mind, he was concentrating on keeping Curtis helpless without critical injury, and from what I could make out from my seat in the car, he was doing a good job.

"So, what are ya doin' here?" He asked; trying to spark a conversation.

I shrugged.
"The warden is here to buy lunch and a broom."

"WARDEN?!" Curtis muffled obnoxiously before Matt gave him a wet willy. He screamed even louder.

"Yeh're in the big house, eh?" Matt continued.

Poor Curtis.

"No, that's just one of my many nicknames for her. She's actually one of the housemaids; Carolyne. Thinks she's in charge 24/7. Classified bitch."

His opened his mouth in an 'O' shape and nodded.

"Ah, I see. So yeh DO 'ave a big house-"

"Is tha' the palace by all the canny flats???"

Curtis received a smack on the forehead.

"Tha' one 'urt." He groaned.

Matt scoffed.
I gave an awkward smile.

"Uh...yeah. That's the one. The only house in this cramped up town that can almost touch the sky."

The silence became unbearable minutes after my last remark, for Matt was still holding down his friend as though he were a dog. He asked him if he was ready to apologize for calling his mom a whore, to which Curtis retaliated with a spit on his shoe.
He didn't speak much after that.

"So, can I get your number?"

I turned around quickly enough to earn a neck brace and had my eyes buldge out of my skull.

"Excuse me?"

"Fer the show. I'm guessing that yeh're gonna need directions."

I pursed my lips and said, shamefully,
"Um, my car is in the shop right now."

'The shop' was actually code for my garage; sitting like a big heap of aluminum waiting to be given some kind of duty if it weren't for the trashed heart of an engine it encompassed.
I hated asking them for a ride up front, so I was hoping that Matt would offer me one to save me from more severe humiliation.
He looked down at Curtis, almost like he was trying to come to an agreement with himself, and finally responded:

"We could pick yeh up."

I beamed.

"Really? Yeah, of course, that would be great, thanks. And here, give me your phone."

He let go of Curtis and dug through his tight left pocket, searching for his electronic.

"Whoo." Curtis sighed.

"Tha' was a good one mate. Longest I've been held under for sure. Jus' give meh some notice next time."

"Curtis, I gave yeh notice when I glared at yeh for bangin' on about my mum." Matt retorted in a monotone.

"Tha's not the only thing I 'banged on'. Your sister-"

"I'M GONNA KILL YEH!"

Matt charged over to his prey in about five feet and tackled him to the ground, once again. Curtis couldn't get domination over Matt, unfortunately for him, and had reclaimed the position of victim.
They had conducted more violence in the past ten minutes than I had seen all summer.
Were they always like this?
I would be lying if I said it didn't concern me...

I glanced over to my left and let out a quiet gasp seeing Carolyne turn the corner. Curtis had finally gained control over his aggressor and was smiling like a fool.

"You guys need to get out of here. The witch is coming."

Curtis slapped Matt over the head a few more times, then looked over my shoulder with his hand above his forehead in the gesture as though you're looking far away.
I figured he caught a glimpse of her when an expression of disgust plagued his features.

"Tha' ain' no witch," He said lowly.

Matt had got off the ground and joined Curtis by his side; both their hairstyles more untameable than before.
His lips were pulled back to show his teeth in pure distaste.

"That's a bint."

They both burst out in uncomfortable fits of giggles over the insult that only fellow englishmen could appreciate, and I just clicked my tongue.
She was going to come over in only an instant, and if she found out, I really don't know what would happen.
But I didn't want to find out.

I'm 23 years old and I'm worried about getting in trouble by my bona-fide "babysitter"? Maybe Carolyne was right; I need to grow up.

"Seriously, you need to leave, if she sees me talking to y-"

"To whom?"

Shit.
I glanced over at her, in hopes that I was only hearing things.
But alas, she had the driver's side door halfway open, with her left hand holding it open, and a peculiar look on her face.
I could only smile as innocently as my inner child, which was most-likely equivalent to an actual one.

"No one."

Her face didn't falter. Of course not.
The tight expression was kept in place as she pulled the rest of herself into the car and locked us inside.
There was no way that she bought that.

I'm pretty confident in my hypothesis that Carolyne was born with a hound's nose; easily able to pick up the scent of bullshit from a mile away just by sniffing my sock.
I have never gotten anything past her, no matter if it was leaving my plates on the newly-polished wood table, or something in the category of truancy.

I swear to god: NOTHING.

"You sure?" She pushed ever so gently.

As though it was no big deal if I really was talking to somebody, or in this case, the plural form, even though she would be on my ass for lying.
I nodded my head in spite of the numerous consequences and destined fate that sped from one ear to the other.

And then, fatally, we locked eye contact.
Her eyes were the flashlights doctors use to look at your brain through your pupils, and in my case, look at my thoughts. There was a horse race in my chest, and I kept telling myself not to move my eyes anywhere to the right.
I really don't know why I'm being so fucking childish.

"Really now? Open your door." She ordered.

I sighed defeatedly and turned to show her my dirty little secret.
Popping open the metal shield, Carolyne's face was anxious and even more hideous than her relaxed stance.
She tilted her head past my figure and cocked an eyebrow while my jaw layed on the parking lot where the boys used to be.

They had vanished.

I gaped at the absent ground that was more beautiful than the Mona Lisa could ever live up to, and experienced a rush of triumph through my veins.
I'm sure that if you were to cut me open I would bleed confetti.

My heart would be a disco ball.
My intestines; a feathered boa.

I slowly turned back around and gave the woman who always gave me hell the biggest fucking smirk.
One that taunted "I finally beat you."

Listening to her incoherent noises of contempt, and it was the first time I had heard music in the past month.