Status: Discontinued

Have Kids, Then We'll Talk

Cassie's Having A Blast

I am restless. I’m on my bed, staring at the blank slate of my ceiling with my mind racing. I can feel each breath; feel my chest pound up and down as sweet oxygen flows to my brain. They say it helps you think. I am thinking. It doesn’t help.

My phone sings from the writing desk. A message. For a minute, my lungs calm down as I read the name across the screen. Dan. Daniel Iero, the sweetest boy I’ve ever met. The boy with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen and the most adorable puppy-dog smile. To be crude for a moment, he was a hottie. Unfortunately, he was also unavailable. To me at least. I could sit and wait until kingdom come, and my little daydreams of sitting with him at the beach with the tide washing in and out past our ankles…yeah, they were stupid. It just wasn’t going to happen. But I smiled anyway. Even his name brings color rushing to my cheeks—I’ve never blushed much until I met Dan. My mind is racing again.

My phone inbox is full. How surprising. Dan’s message comes up. I can feel my deep breaths coming back.

I talkd 2 him. Wish u guys would get off each othrs throats.

I can taste blood—I’m chewing my lip again. Aiden, that stupid douchebag…another deep breath. I remember why I’m even lying down in the first place and my fingers move automatically to my forehead. This afternoon, I received a wonderful gift from my neighbor Aiden. He slammed me against the wall and bestowed me with a lovely purple bruise.

And Daniel wants me to get off his throat. Something’s rising in my stomach, pushing its way to my throat. It’s remarkably like the urge to scream and throw my cell phone across the room. My breaths grow faster, deeper. The metallic taste of hemoglobin becomes sharper. I feel a stinging in my left eye, drawing in the sensation of the pain.

Fury does not melt no matter how much one wills it to. Nine years of rivalry and torture do not simply grow wings and fly away when convenient.

I can’t do this. I do not mope. My fingers sit idle, longing for some kind of activity. Subconsciously, I am drawn towards the piano. The cover slides open and my hands rest for a moment before springing to life. The keys can tell I’m angry…they listen. They feel. Chords, beautiful as they sound to passerby, become louder, furious. Only Jared knows how it is, to pass every fiber of your spirit into the music. To call it intense is so vast an understatement that words fail even me. When only my piano can express it.

But an obscene ringing interrupts me. Charlie. She’s the only one who changes my ring tone fifteen times a day. In fact, she and Madie are the only ones who can even come near my phone without me flying at them. With a final exhalation, my eyes rivet towards the message.

Charlie’s bored. Oh, how surprising. I would roll my eyes, but I’ve rolled my eyes at her so many times that she once warned me that they’ll roll right out of my head one day. Pleasant, isn’t it? But I love her. Charlie McCracken and I are soul sisters. It sounds so retro, but there really is no other way to describe it. And the fact that she lives on the top floor of my building just makes life awesome. I take one last look at the piano before deciding. I cannot dwell on pain forever.

Quickly, I scrawl out a note to my over-protective mother telling her where I’ll be (I am a good girl, you know) and lock the door before dashing up the stairs. I don’t want to use the elevator. Not after this morning. The bruise quickly flits in and out of my mind. I need to learn to focus on more positive things.

The stairs are a bit steep in our building but I think using up some energy will do me good. I have far too much of it at this moment. My mind has slowed down a bit, but I’m already bouncing again as I ring Charlie’s doorbell. She’s at the door, armed with credit cards.

“Madie’s grounded,” she says with a smirk.

I smirk right back. “My mom won’t be back until midnight.”

We both know this means a rescue mission. Madelyn Way, the third sister. Naturally, I’m usually the one zooming around, sneaking her or Charlie out of their respective bedrooms. I love it.

I slam into the driver’s seat before Charlie has a chance to get us into an accident or worse, straight into the entertainment section of the newspaper. Again.

Perhaps I went over the speed limit just a little, but we make it to Madie’s house in time. That’s what matters. And the rush of the forbidden always gets us high. The watchman lets us in with a sly smile. Charlie winks at him as we stroll towards our best friend’s bedroom window. She’s waiting. And like something out of a spy novel, she simply falls out of the window and into my arms. Like a hyperactive feather. She’s that light. Madie giggles and I drop her and we giggle some more. Charlie tries to hush us, whispering fiercely that Mr. Way will come out and yell at us like last time. She fails and ends up giggling with us. It’s gone beyond hyperactivity at one point.

I take a moment to just observe the three of us. It’s almost nine thirty; we’re outside Madie’s house, laughing about nothing in particular. It’s gone beyond friendship at one point. The three of us, we’re soul sisters. And right now, I feel so much better. For the moment, every last trace of this morning’s anger has melted right away. With or without Daniel, no matter how many times Aiden Way beats me up or brings me down, and no matter how many times I argue with my mother, I will always have these two.

And the three of us always have our credit cards, much to the delight of Fifth Avenue and our parents’ despair.