Bite Your Tongue

One Year Later
3:45 P.M.
Korinne;;

Life was funny sometimes. When you were miserable, it made you more miserable. When you wanted an escape, it tied you to a chair and locked you into a dark room. But sometimes, after a while, it would decide to be nice and stop screwing with you. Almost two years after life had become my enemy, it had changed its mind and become my friend instead. My misery was erased. And my escape was found, in the form of a particularly sexy guitarist.

I’d always been too cynical to wholly believe in high school relationships, but my own was proving to be pretty damn powerful. I only had a few months of high school left, and even though Brian was busy with the band, preparing their first real album, we were better than ever. I didn’t see that fact changing anytime soon, either. Especially not when he made extra time to come and see me on a regular basis. Kissing him was the one thing on earth I knew I would never tire of.

Are you sure that’s the ONLY thing?

The sex is pretty great, too.

There we go.

Brian’s hands gripped the kitchen counter on either side of my legs. His body blocked all means of escape. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Going somewhere?”

“My Poptarts are done, so yeah, I was kind of hoping to—”

He cut me off with a quick kiss before grinning and stepping aside briefly. I hopped off the counter and crossed the kitchen to the toaster. The second I’d moved my Poptarts onto a paper towel, his arms encircled my waist, and his breath tickled my ear.

“So,” he said. “When did you want to go look at those apartments?”

“I don’t know. I have to check and see if I’m even allowed to live off campus.”

I’d already been accepted Early Decision to UCLA and UC Santa Cruz, so I’d basically ceased to worry about my grades. I had no idea what I wanted to study in college, but I was going, and that was the important thing to me. Brian and I planned on getting an apartment together, as long as I wasn’t required to live at school. The puzzle piece of my future were slowly falling into place, and though I didn’t know what kind of picture they’d make, I was excited to see the final result.

“Well, if you’re not allowed, I’m going to kidnap you. Just letting you know.”

A goofy smile found its way onto my face. “That’s fine by me.”

Once more, he grinned, and kissed me. The kiss deepened, building with a slow intensity that spurred me to abandon my Poptarts. The pastries fell onto the counter, my arms went around Brian’s neck, and our lips met again, soft and sweet.

Footsteps entered the room a few seconds later. There was a disgruntled snorting noise.

“Okay, so, the tour this summer?” Zacky said. “Not going to work if you two are making out the entire time.”

Pulling away from Brian only a little, I rolled my eyes. “Like you and Delia aren’t going to be making out? And Matt and Stevie, and Jimmy and that girl from Starbucks he’s practically been stalking…”

“But…you and Brian are like, disgusting.”

“Everyone’s disgusting when they’re in love, Zacky. We might as well just have like, group orgies before every show.”

Zacky blinked. Then he looked at Brian, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“She’s a keeper.”

Brian brushed hair out of my face and kissed my cheek. “I know.”

“Oh my God, you really are disgusting.”

As Brian and I laughed, Zacky walked away, presumably to go bother Delia by calling her while she was working.

His presence in the kitchen was replaced by my mom, looking comfortable and relaxed in a pair of jeans. Even after she’d scaled back on her hours at work six months ago, I still found it a bit perturbing to have her greet me when I got home from school, or be at home on the weekends. She claimed that she wanted to spend time with me during my last year of high school, and that she wanted to be home more often for whenever Elias deigned to visit—he’d followed Maddie to LA, where she was working for Us Weekly and he was learning the art of cinematography. He visited whenever they both had the odd day off, and usually without any advance warning. But we didn’t mind.

“Stevie’s on the phone,” my mom said, holding the device out to me. “She says you’re not answering your cell.”

I glanced down at my pocket, from which a tinny ringing noise was emanating.

“Oh. Right. I was, um…busy.”

Next to me, Brian snickered, and I gave his arm a shove as I took the phone. Stevie’s familiar shrieking soon filled my ears. I winced and moved the phone away slightly until she calmed down.

“Jesus. What happened?”

“I’M GOING TO FASHION WEEK!”

“What?”

“FASHION WEEK! YOU KNOW! NEW YORK! COUTURE! I’M GOING!”

“I know what Fashion Week is, Stevie,” I said, laughing. “But you’re seriously going? How?”

“One of my teachers has extra tickets and she decided to pick a few of her most promising students to accompany her!”

“Holy shit! That’s amazing!”

“I KNOW, RIGHT?!” she screamed.

Stevie was attending the Fashion Institute of Design & Merchandising in LA, working toward some sort of career in fashion and simultaneously boring Matt to tears with her constant talk of clothes and shoes and purses. Every few days she would call and tell everyone how her classes were going, or rant about some bitchy girl she had to work with, or fill us in on the latest fashion-related news. I now knew more about the fashion industry than I ever wanted to know and would have been happy not hearing about designer labels for the rest of my life, but at the same time, I was glad that Stevie was finally getting somewhere.

“Did you tell Delia yet?” I wondered.

“I tried calling her, but she’s working. Damn gymnastics studio.”

Delia had fallen in love with a part-time job at a nearby gym, where she taught beginner’s gymnastics and coached a team of young children. It was practically all she talked about, and I had a feeling that when she came over later tonight, she’d try to force us all into learning how to do a backflip or something.

“She’s probably on the phone with Zacky. He finds joy in bothering her at work.”

“Of course.”

She hung up, and a moment later, Zacky’s phone rang. I heard him in the living room, arguing with Stevie about how Delia was his girlfriend and he deserved to talk to her without Stevie calling and interrupting to talk about sparkly shoes, or something.

I shook my head and was turning to Brian to resume our previous activities when Johnny appeared in the doorway, Victoria in his arms. Bits of ice-blonde hair poked out from underneath the tiny hat on her head. When she saw us, she smiled and giggled.

Johnny smiled as well, retrieving his bag of baby supplies from the floor near the doorway.

“I’m taking her to go visit Zoe,” he said.

Perhaps the best development to unfold was the one that involved Zoe being housed in California’s best mental institution. She’d recently been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, and was only allowed to see her baby through a thick glass window in the visitation room. Most of the time, they kept her in a straightjacket, in a drug-induced haze, in order to better control her slow descent into insanity.

Fortunately, Johnny wasn’t facing the burden of parenthood alone. His parents, who had, it turned out, been considering another child, had agreed to help him as much as possible. So he was caring for Victoria, since her mother was…well, crazy.

“Have fun,” said Brian.

Johnny rolled his eyes and affectionately gave Brian the finger. Victoria made some indecipherable but super-cute baby noises and stared at us over Johnny’s shoulder as he left.

I reached for my abandoned Poptarts and bit into one. Brian’s arms wound themselves around me again.

“Want to watch a movie? Since you’ve fully rejected the idea of doing any homework?”

“If by ‘watch a movie’ you mean ‘make out on the couch’, then yes.”

He laughed and kissed me on the forehead. “I love that brain of yours.”

I tried to finish chewing my Poptart, but with the huge smile on my face, it was impossible. It was a smile so wide that I half-expected my jaw to snap at any minute. And I probably wouldn’t have minded.

I was finally, completely, happy. And it was a happiness that I knew would never fade.