About a Girl

“Boomerang my head, back to the city I grew up in. Again and again and again, forever a lake-effect kid.” – Fall Out Boy

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I know they say running away from your problems never solves anything, but it’s worked for me as far as I can remember.

And the thing is, I know they always get back to me eventually, or that I’ll have to deal with them later.

You know, like when you’re a kid, and you break mom and dad’s things, so you run and hide?

But I won’t have to worry about what I’m running from as long as I’m in Chicago.

I’m home.

The sky is a melancholy gray with clouds, but most of me wants to roll down the window and shout myself hoarse from happiness out into the cold January air.

I settle for grinning like a complete idiot as we inch down Lake Shore Drive in painfully slow traffic while my favorite Smashing Pumpkins song blasts from Sisky’s stereo.

“Happy to be home?” he asks, sounding amused at the look on my face.

“You have absolutely no idea, Sisk,” I reply absently, still grinning out the window.

“So…am I dropping you off at your parents’ house in Barrington?” he asks. I contemplate it for a minute, deciding while still watching the world go by outside the car.

“Could you just drop me off at Bill’s?” I decide. “He said he had the extra bedroom if I needed it, and it’s closer to the show in a few hours.”

“Sure.”

“Are you coming?” I ask, just for the conversation.

I’ve been craving conversation with anyone that doesn’t know the real reason I left L.A.

“I wish. It’s my mom’s birthday,” he supplies.

“Oh. Well, tell her hi and happy birthday for me.”

“Will do,” he agrees. “I’m sorry I can’t be there, though.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I reply, and we fall silent.

I sigh quietly to myself at the subtle tension in the silence, and I realize I’m stupid for assuming William hadn’t told Sisky the situation. Judging by the growing awkwardness between us in his car, he obviously knows. Meaning it’s quite likely all my Chicago friends know why I ‘m back.

Irritation begins to cloud my senses, so I purse my lips and continue to stare out the window, mood dampened a little by my realization.

My mood starts to match the weather.

Home sweet home.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, alerting me to yet another text, but I delete it as soon as I check the sender, like I did all the others.

Thankfully, traffic starts to clear up, and soon he’s helping me get my suitcase out of the car in front of Bill’s place a few minutes later.

“Thanks, Sisky,” I say, giving him a hug before he gets back in the driver’s seat.

He waves then drives away, leaving me in front of William’s apartment complex.

I sigh and make my way to what I hope is the right door and knock.

“Rae?” William says as the door swings open, immediately hugging me.

“Bilvy!” I greet, hugging him back.

“I have an extra room if you need a place to crash…” he begins.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask, feeling much like I’m intruding.

“I don’t mind at all, Rae,” he assures me.

“Thanks, Bill,” I answer gratefully. I begin dragging my suitcase down the hall. He calls something else after me, but the only part I catch is “going for groceries,” so I don’t ask him to repeat and hear him leave the apartment shortly after.

I sigh in relief and flop down onto the bed without bothering to even think about unpacking.

I wake up again when I hear the front door opening.

I yawn and stretch lithely, slowly sitting up to relieve the stiffness in my joints.

I’m startled by the bedroom door bursting open and someone (that is not William) beginning to take off his shirt.

“Uh…” leaves my mouth in plain and utter confusion as the stranger notices my presence, just as startled as I am as he hastily shoves his shirt back on.

But not before I catch a glimpse of more than I’m meant to.

“Who-” he begins.

“Bill?” I call out in confusion. He pauses.

“Are you Rachel?” he abruptly asks. “William’s cousin?”

I pause to register his question, first because he knows my name and second, because his accent is to die for.

“Yeah…?” I manage to spit out. He smiles.

“I’m Michael,” he says, extending his hand for me to shake. It’s calloused.

“I’m Rae,” I reply. He laughs.

“I know,” he states, and I want to slap myself.

“Right.”

“William mentioned you might-”

“Rae?” William’s voice interrupts from the door as we hear him enter the apartment.

“In here,” I call back.

“Great. You’ve met,” William supplies, joining us in the room.

“It’s okay if you don’t have room for me to stay, Bill. Really,” I attempt to recover from making an idiot of myself. “I can stay with my p-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rae. The other room’s empty, so if Michael doesn’t mind sharing a bathroom with you…”

“It’s your flat, mate,” Michael shrugs, throwing a crooked smile my way. I smile back. It’s contagious.

“Great,” I answer William, but I’m watching Michael through peripheral vision.

They let me get settled in the free room, which doesn’t take too long; I didn’t bring much back with me.

Most of my things are in Suzie’s apartment in L.A., but she and the guys flew in yesterday for the show tonight.

I, on the other hand, had a few things to take care of before coming back…

I splash water on my face in the bathroom and quickly change into fresh clothes for the show after applying a hint of makeup.

I get ready quickly and with as little effort as possible; I realize that doors are open by now at the venue, and I’m already later than I’d predicted. I head back out to the living room, where the two of them are watching tv.

“Hey,” Bill says, as I appear in the doorway. He stands up as I head over. “Ready for the show?”

“As ready as I can be,” I sigh. I catch that concerned look in his eyes.

“Look, Rae, if you need to talk…” he starts, lowering his voice.

“William,” I interrupt pointedly, glaring. He glances at Michael, on the couch, who’s looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. “I’m fine.” He frowns slightly.

“Fine,” he agrees stiffly.

“I should leave for the show now, or I’m going to be really late,” I excuse myself reasonably.

“You can take my car,” he offers, tossing me the keys.

“You’re not coming?” I ask quizzically, catching the keys.

“Christine and I are having dinner with my dad,” he explains. He glances towards the couch again, and when he looks at me again, he’s smiling like he has some sort of brilliant idea. “Why don’t you take Michael with you?”