She's With The Band

Imelda froze, staring straight at Jack’s chest, unable to look into his dark, hoping eyes. She felt sick to her stomach, whether it had been from the sickness or from the shock she wasn’t sure. But she knew that Jack was watching her carefully, waiting for the cliché moment when she’d jump into his arms and they’d kiss passionately and maybe even share their first encounter.

But Imelda worked her entire life around fighting against clichés.

“Jack… you’re insane,” she shrieked, pulling herself up and kicking the tire of the van. She threw her fists into the door violently, grunting with the pain until Jack finally managed to wrangle her arms behind her back and get her under control.

“Stop! Stop!” he insisted, the pain touching his voice audibly.

“Jack…” she sighed, blowing loose white strands out of her eyes, “Were you not paying attention for the last ten minutes? Did you not see my episode in there?! I can’t have children, Jack! It’s a medical impossibility! I can’t give you anything! Marrying me would be… the biggest mistake you’d ever make. You’d be throwing away everything and I cannot allow you to do that!” she sobbed, falling limply into his arms, inhaling deeply.

She fought to memorize everything about how this felt to her- his arms, tighter than they’d ever been, around her shoulders, the rough kicking of his heart under his thin black Glamour Kills t-shirt, the quivering of his shocked, hurt body around hers and the smell of his sweat, alcohol and cologne. There was nothing else that mattered to Imelda, and naturally, she left it.

Or tried.

She ripped herself from his grip and sprinted toward the road, thousands of thoughts of the easiest, quickest ways to commit suicide sliding around in her brain until Jack tackled her to the ground.

“Stop leaving me!” Jack screamed, and even though it was darker than death outside, Imelda could tell from his shaking as he straddled her waist and the dampness she felt on her shirt and his quivering voice that he was crying hard.

“You can’t leave me like this…” he sobbed, cupping her face, the dirt on his hands rubbing off on her cheeks and in her soft, clean hair. He kissed her delicately and she kissed back, absorbing his desperation for her.

“Jack, I’m not going to marry you.”

“Why the fuck not?” he cried, pulling himself upright but not allowing Imelda to wiggle out from under him.

“I’m sixteen! It’s not even legal! And I don’t want you wasting everything you have on me! I can’t give you anything, Jack, why can’t you understand that, you stupid fuck?!” she sobbed.

They were both losing it, crying harder. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow move from around a tree. She couldn’t see but she knew it was Alex.

“If you don’t want to marry me then what the fuck are we doing? Why are you with me? Why did you give me this if you always planned on ripping it right out from under me?! Why does this keep happening?” he screamed. He threw his head up and clenched his fists tight.

“Jack. You need to get off of me right now. I have to get out of here. I’m leaving,” Imelda yelled back, shoving him off with all her strength. He fell backwards, knocking his head against a branch and lying there, crying. Imelda leapt up without another glance toward Jack and threw herself back into the tour site, with Alex close behind.

“How much did you see?” Imelda growled, her voice rough with tears.

Alex latched onto her wrist and pulled her into his grip. “Enough.”

He stared at her appearance- her tank top was sweaty and ripped, exposing a scrape on her lower stomach, most likely from a branch when Jack took her down. Her hair was wet and matted with dirt and grime. Her legs and arms were also coated in mud and grass stains. He glanced backwards to see Jack trudging back to the van, violently tearing bits of the earth off his shirt. He turned back and stared at Imelda’s face- red and puffy, wet and dirty.

“God, what happened to you guys?” he whispered, his voice rough from the building tears in his eyes.

She shook her head, the tears running again. “It’s my fault. I told him I wouldn’t marry him and he said we couldn’t be together if we weren’t going anywhere.”

Alex chuckled darkly, looking down at his feet as his eyes brimmed with tears. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Imelda nodded, wiping a hand across her face, allowing the dirt to smear with the tears and excess eyeliner. “I need to call Mae.”

Alex handed her his phone and wiped his face. Imelda dialed and Darla answered.

“Darla, give Mae her phone.”

Darla gave a low, threatening chuckle. “Mae’s not exactly available.”

“What are you talking about?” Imelda whined, kicking a tree.

Darla shrieked and Imelda heard a crash. “Mae’s dead!” Darla sobbed.

Imelda froze again and swallowed. “Wh-what?”

“You heard me, bitch! My girlfriend is dead! One of the clients took her home last night, she was found strangled! In his hotel room! She’s dead!” Darla gave a crazy laugh and started to sob violently. Imelda immediately dropped the phone and stared up at the stars, clouding
with tears. She let out a sharp scream and fell over, hysterical.