Wanna Live It Up Just Because

She slouched against the couch, eyes glued to the television in front of her. The Sunday morning cartoons held little of her concentration. Instead, her mind was drawn to her last drum lesson with her older sister's boyfriend. He complimented her, like he always did, telling her she was catching on quicker than he had, that she was a natural. The lessons were never strictly lessons but also therapy sessions in a sense. He would ask questions about her day or week, depending on the amount of time they had gone without meeting. Normally she would give vague answers like "okay" and "fine."

But that lesson was different. Of course he asked his normal questions but, instead of her vague answers, she told him the truth. She told him about the girls at school who teased her constantly, told him how having diabetes was making living difficult and had become the source of a majority of her problems, told him how she was fed up with life in general. He listened, attentive, and gave her advice.

He told her to hold on and life would get better.

She retaliated by saying type one diabetes isn't curable.

Though she did take his advice to heart, even if she wouldn't admit it.

She twirled her honey blonde hair with her finger. Her sister, who also served as her legal guardian, wouldn't allow her to dye it being that she was the tender age of eleven. It was understandable. Unlike the girls who taunted her on a daily basis, she didn't need to dye her hair to keep up with the style of the popular celebrities.

And it would cost extra money. She and her sister didn't have that. Sure, they inherited the house when their parents passed away and whatever money was in their parents' bank was given to them. That was in savings. Her sister had a job to keep up with the bills and groceries. Most of the money was used for that. She couldn't expect her sister to give up her hard earned money for something as silly as hair dye and she was too young to hold a job to pay for it herself.

The doorbell rang, drawing her from "watching" cartoons.

"Arpeggio, can you get that?" her sister called from somewhere else in the house.

Arpeggio nodded, knowing full well her sister couldn't see her, and stood. She approached the door with caution.

Social situations weren't her thing.

She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs till they hurt. Her hand shook as it reached for the doorknob. The door opened without a noise. On the porch stood four males, all around her older sister's age and considerably taller than Arpeggio. She froze in her spot, forgetting to release the breath she took earlier. They smiled down at her. One, the tallest of the four, bent to her level. Through her petrified state, she mentally noted his large nose and his Labrador brown eyes.

"Hi, cutie, is Neon here?" he asked.

They needed her sister for something, that was clear. And she knew her sister was somewhere in the house. She could have invited them, let them sit on the couch while she searched out her sister.

But his comment threw her off.

She stared into the eyes of the guy crouched in front of her. He tilted his head to the side. He was expecting an answer.

Without warning, Arpeggio turned and darted from the doorway, leaving four very confused males in her wake. She ran through the living room where cartoons were still playing on the television and into the hallway where her room was tucked away.

Neon stepped out of her room as her younger sibling rushed into the hallway. She grabbed Arpeggio's shoulder before she could find refuge in her room. The frightened look on her younger sibling's face made her worry.

"Are you okay?" Neon asked.

Arpeggio nodded in response. Neon knew she would have to accept the answer until her sister calmed. She couldn't pry the information till her sister was ready.

"Who was at the door?" she asked.

"Some guys looking for you," Arpeggio said.

To anyone else, Arpeggio's answer wouldn't be heard but Neon was trained in hearing the young girl's quiet voice.

"It's probably Alex, Jack, and Rian; they're here to work on our project," Neon mumbled angrily.

Arpeggio was fully aware of her sister's hate for the three men she listed; Neon never hesitated to rant about their obscene behaviors.

"There're four of them."

Neon thought for a moment. She was sure there were only three members in her group beside herself. So who was the forth member? Only one explanation could be given.

"Those bastards probably brought their bassist with them," Neon grumbled.

She released Arpeggio's arm.

"I guess I should get to work with them. Are they in the living room?" Neon asked.

"I didn't invite them in," Arpeggio didn't dare explain her reasoning, knowing Neon would castrate the large nosed male who complimented her.

"Smart girl," Neon patted Arpeggio's head, "If you hear any crashes, I'm probably killing them."

Neon left the hallway to work on her school project with three out of the four males. Arpeggio walked to her room, entering and closing the door firmly behind her. In the sanctuary of her room, she took a deep breath and collapsed on her bed, careful not to upset the insulin pump attached to her body.

She couldn't get that one word out of her head. "Cutie"; no one outside of her family and her sister's friends had called her that. People at school often called her words that were quite the opposite of "cutie." Was he joking? She wouldn't put it past anyone to do that.

His face was burned into her mind; his eyes, his mouth, his defining nose. Maybe most people wouldn't go for someone so tall and lanky but, to her, he was perfect, outshining all the crushes she had in the past.

Mentally, she cursed her attraction to the stranger, knowing her sister would not approve. She could only hope that her attraction would disappear over time. After all, she was eleven, she was still young.