Pretty Eyes

Three weeks later, Holly knocked on the Followill’s front door. Caleb, who had stopped by for the day, answered the door.
“It’s my brother’s girlfriend!” He announced the fact so animatedly that Holly had to smile.
She loved Caleb, and she loved his boots.

“Can I talk to Jared?” Clutching a couple of CD cases, Holly tried to side-step Caleb. Her mom had an amazing music collection, one that Jared was so eager to listen to.
Before Caleb could even holler a single syllable, Jared bounded down the stairs. His grin stretched across his face so broadly that even Caleb could see this was more than puppy-love. His brother was a smart kid.
“Hey!” He skidded to a stop in front of her, shoving his older brother out of the way. “Want to play some wall ball?”
“You do owe me a rematch, you know.” Caleb folded his arms across his chest. “I still think you were out of bounds.”
Holly felt her stomach double-knot itself. She tried to shake it off as she crossed the front yard but her sporadic wiggling didn’t seem to have the desired effect.
“You’ll never believe what Caleb just told me.”
Jared’s excitement died down quickly when he noticed something wasn’t right.
“Maybe later—could we,” She glanced around nervously. “I kind of have something to tell you too.”
Regardless of Caleb’s presence, Jared grabbed Holly’s hand and led her upstairs to his room. After closing the door, he sat across from her on the bed. They both folded their legs in front of their bodies.

“We’re moving.”
Never one to beat around the bush, Holly spit it out. Jared wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.
“Say what?” He shook his head.
“My mom wants to move to Chicago,” Holly stared at chipped wall behind Jared’s head.
His mom had said he could only go to the movies if he cleaned his room. Wanting to make the 8:45 showing, Holly decided to help. Instead, they played basketball with his things and ended up taking a chunk out of the wall with a shoe.

“So you’re moving to Chicago?” Again, Jared was unclear on everything she’d just said. Holly nodded solemnly. “What, at like, the end of the year or something?”
“Two weeks.”
Holly didn’t want to watch his reaction, partly because she was afraid that he wouldn’t miss her as much as she would him. She knew he liked her, but he was much more important to her than a silly crush.
“You’re lying.”
“I wish.” She fumbled with her words as tears formed in the corners of her eyes.
Jared had never seen her cry, even after she was smacked in the face with the ball during a very intense four-square competition. Her nose had started bleeding, but she just shoved her t-shirt up there and took a swing at Nathan, who had called “cherry bomb” in the first place.
“You’re mom’s lying then.”
Again, she shook her head.
“What about the restaurant?”
Holly’s mom owned a café downtown. It had become a local hotspot and, in Jared’s opinion, served the best sweet potato fries in town.
“She said she sold it.” Shrugging, Holly looked out the window.
“That’s bullshit,” Jared threw his hands in the air. “Wait, so we can’t go to the dance then?”
He looked over at the suit slung over the chair. He didn’t know where his brother had found it, but he had been pretty damn excited to wear it.
“No,” Holly sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “And my dress was so great.”
When Jared didn’t say anything, Holly gulped. She blinked quickly trying to avoid any actually crying, but it was a lost cause.
“I don’t want to go.”
The responsibility of comforting a crying woman had never been left to Jared. He stared at her for a second, trying to figure out whether he should pat her shoulder or hug her. He wanted to hug her, because he’d wanted to touch her in a way that said “Hey, I want to be more than your friend” for the past two years.
So he hugged her.

...

“My brothers want to start a band.” Jared had been trying to find a way to tell her his news without taking away from her own.
Sitting back to back on his bed, in silence, seemed as good a time as any. She’d let him hold her for hours, even after she stopped crying. He liked the way that her head rested comfortably against his chest and that her breath on his neck tickled just a little. She smelled like lemons.
“No way.” Holly turned around, wide-eyed.
“Yeah, they got me a bass.” A small smile found its way to his lips. “I mean, it’s just a bass but…”
“The bass is sexy.” She elbowed him.
“No.” He felt his cheeks flush a little and hope Holly hadn’t seen.
“Yes.”
What she didn’t want to say out loud was that any instrument he picked up would be sexy, tambourine included. The girls were going to love him.
“When you guys come to Chicago, I’m coming to see you…you know, when you’re selling out arenas and headlining festivals.”
“It’d be rad if you could tour with us, yeah?” Jared knew how Holly felt about a good tune. “You could do our clothes or something.”
“Even though you guys already look like you belong in rock ‘n roll?” She smiled, nearly forgetting that after she left Nashville she’d probably never see this boy again.
“I’m going to miss you.” Jared didn’t make eye contact as he said this. He wasn’t even sure where the words came from, but he knew they were true.
“No you won’t.” Holly shushed him, pretending that she was joking.

As the perpetual outcast, Holly wasn’t quite sure what she’d do without Jared. Most girls her age had a clique—Holly had a walkman and a Stephen King novel. When Michael Jared Followill moved in next door, it all changed. Her mother had made numerous Pretty In Pink and Forrest Gump references about their friendship, but she loved Jared like her was her own son—he could’ve been for all the hours logged eating from her refrigerator.
Jared had been new to the idea of being friends with a girl, but he figured that if he was going to watch chick flicks with anyone it was going to be Holly Finn. He liked everything about her, particularly her “quirkiness” as his mother called it. He had probably found the one girl within a hundred mile radius who was about as blunt as sledgehammer and had a thing for zombie movies. She never looked like the other girls in class, and her tastes in, well, everything were never the same as theirs either.

“Yes,” he finally looked at her. “I will.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Holly leaned forward and kissed him. She could taste the sour apple bubblegum he was chewing. He could taste her strawberry Chapstick.
The two had kissed before, but they’d all been sneak attacks—quick and miscalculated. As his arms wrapped around her waist, Holly thought about how much she didn’t want him to let go.