Picking Up the Pieces

I stared at him in complete and utter disbelief. “Bryan?” I tried again.

He nodded. “You look...different. Good.”

I stood up. “Bryan...” I raised my eyebrows at their entwined hands. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

He blushed. “This is Tyler. He’s my...boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, Tyler!” I said, extending my hand. He smiled at me and grasped my hand in a firm handshake, in one up-and-down motion. Hm...good handshake means confident manner. I like this kid. “And you...Bryan,” I said his name with distaste. He cringed. “If you were unsure of your sexual preferences, you could have just told me!” I snapped. “Not make me seem like an idiot in front of the whole school!”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry, Danny!” he wailed.

Tyler glanced between us, looking confused. “Um...hi,” he said hesitantly, raising his hand like a school boy. “Is it okay if I know what’s going on?”

I whipped my head to him and pointed accusingly at Bryan. “That dope is my ex-boyfriend who didn’t bother telling me that he was gay. Instead, he tried to solve it by becoming a jerkish little prick!”

Bryan winced. “Ouch. It sounds worse when you say it like that.”

“That’s because that’s how it really was, you useless lump!” I thundered. I couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t trust me enough to tell me what was going on? Maybe that’s why he was always really twitchy when we were together. I thought it was cute -- that he was just nervous. Hmph.

“Watch it,” Tyler joked. “That useless lump is my new boyfriend, regardless.”

I waved him away. “Oh whatever, it was four years ago. I’m over it.”

Bryan caught my shoulder, causing Tyler to whack him playfully on the head. “Don’t be cheating, honey!” he teased.

Bryan rolled his eyes, then turned to me. “Are you sure you’re not mad?”

“I’m over it!” I insisted. “I have moved on. And you certainly have.” He looked down guiltily and I took the chance to remove his hand from my shoulder. “I may be over it, but that doesn’t mean I forgive you,” I continued. “But I won’t treat you like dirt. It was nice meeting you again Bryan, and you Tyler.” I waved and turned around to walk away.

“Bye Jordan!” they chorused as I left. I raised a hand in farewell and started up my iPod again so I could run back.

***

When I got home, Luke was sitting at the breakfast table, gulping down Coco Krispies at inhumane speed. Really, what is it with the male species and food? They never seem to eat enough, yet they manage to stay fit and skinny! And then they just act like lazy bums.

When he saw me, he paused, cocked an eyebrow, and smirked. “Nice outfit,” he commented. I rolled my eyes and whacked him on the head. “Ow!” he whined. “Just because I’m your friend doesn’t mean I can’t be perverted!”

“Whatever, loser. I’m just going to get changed, okay?”

“Yeah. You better not drip on my furniture,” he teased. “Do you have morning classes?”

I cocked my head to the side. “Yeah, I actually do.”

“Then we have to leave in like, half an hour,” he said, checking his nonexistent watch.

“Alrighty, Lukey. Don’t leave without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream out it, dollface,” he drawled in a Southern accent, winking at me. I waggled my eyebrows and shot up the stairs to take a quick shower.

It was strange the insane leaps our relationship made. It was annoying, irritating, infuriating, and had me totally confused and bewildered. I wished he would pick a feeling and stick with it.

I took a really quick shower and put on a pair of black flower-pattered fishnet tights, a pair of shorts, and a purple tank top at top speed. I stared at my guitar in agony for two minutes, my hand alternatively leaning towards it and snatching back again. Should I take it? I mean, I couldn’t take being anywhere without it...but would I get in trouble?

Ah hell. Who cares? It was my first day. It’s not like anyone’s going to hold it against me. I slung it over one shoulder and my messenger bag over the other and bounded down the stairs.

Luke was waiting at the door, bobbing his head to a beat only he could hear while he twirled his keys on his index finger. “You finally ready to go?” he asked in a Drama Queen voice.

“Don’t be so dramatic, you drag queen,” I said, whacking him upside the head again as I pushed him away and walked out the door.

“OW!” he whined. “You really got to stop doing that!”

I shot him an innocent smile. “Really?” I mocked.

He nodded his head vigorously. “Really,” he confirmed.

I nodded as well. “If you insist!” I sang, skipping to the car. I yanked open the door and hopped in, waiting for Luke to start the car.

He eyed me as though I was crazy and started the engine. “There’s just this one thing you need to know,” he started saying as he peeled out of the driveway.

“What?”

“I’m kind of...well known by...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I said, waving it off. “By most of the female population who hang onto your every word like dogs.”

“Female dogs,” he agreed.

“Biznitches.”

“Yes. So...that won’t bother you?”

It was sweet that he was asking me, but really, what would my opinion do to change anything? “You do what you have to do. I’ll just stay on the sidelines.”

“If you’re sure...”

“Look, Luke, you can’t do any of your mindless hook-ups anymore, but I couldn’t care less if you flirted now and again,” I said shortly. “You’re a guy. You have hormones that I don’t feed.”

“Yeah, you just tease,” he muttered. I whacked his head again. “GOD, Danny!” he exclaimed. “Stop it!”

I snickered. “You sound like a little kid.” I heard his sharp intake of breath. “What?” I asked, looking at his wide eyes. Then I rolled my own. “Yeah, I know you called me Danny, I’m not deaf. You can, you know.”

His face split into a wide smile. “You’re the best, honey!”

“I said you could call me Danny, not honey,” I snapped.

“Someone’s touchy today.”

“Someone’s asking for another smack.”

“No, no, no!” he protested. “Anything! You have fists of steel.”

“Yeah, feel the burn, baby. Revel in my bionic arm!” I teased, lifting up my smacking hand. “Would you like to sign it?”

“I’m driving,” he said flatly.

“Oh, look, we’re here! And so soon.” I sighed in disappointment. “Right before I was going to poison your lunch.”

“Oh, speaking of lunch, I made you some!” Luke said happily, lifting a brown paper bag from the depths of his backpack. “I knew you’d forget...”

I had to refrain myself from going, “Awwwww!” I peeked inside and wrinkled my eyebrows. “Luke,” I said seriously. “The only things in here are twinkies.”

“Oops, that’s mine,” he replied, grinning, snatching the bag out of my hands. “This is yours.” He dumped a slightly heavier and more wrinkled brown bag into my hands.

I poked my nose through. “What kind of sandwich is this?” I asked, sticking a finger in.

“You’ll have to find out!” he sang.

I groaned. “God, you’re annoying.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s a talent.”

“Just park here, Luke,” I ordered, pointing at a curb.

“Why? The school’s a bit further!”

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to be seen getting out of your car when you fan-girls crowd around here. I can’t deal with enemies the first day,” I explained.

He frowned, trying to process what I said. I pinched his nose and smiled at him, getting out of the car. He still looked confused when I shut the door, but I swear I heard him repeat, “You don’t want to be seen with me? Whaaaat?” I rolled my eyes. So I guess it was all outside and no substance for that kid.

I walked the remainder of the way to the college, my heart growing heavier as I eyed the buildings. Another new school. I wonder who went here, apart from my four friends? I was actually surprised they didn’t apply for anything more worth their time. I was actually surprised I didn’t apply for anything more worth my time. But Seth wouldn’t let me go anywhere else but here, so...whatever.

I had decided to major in music and minor in English, so I guess it was actually a good thing that I had brought my guitar. I hadn’t really thought very far ahead.

When I reached the classroom, I realized that all of the seats were empty except one next to a guy whose head was face-planted on his desk, his hoody around his face, and his arms up to shield his eyes. What the hell? Is he sleeping? I had heard the teacher was pretty tough...maybe I should wake him?

The thump on my desk as I dropped my bag on top of it was enough for the guy to glance up, eye me from head to toe, and sit up straight, a very white grin stretched for my pleasure. What the...?

“Hi!” he exclaimed to me, clearly expecting something. He certainly seemed familiar...it took me a minute to realize that most of the girls and guys were glaring at me. Alright, now what did I do? Jesus, could I not get a break?

“Hey Random-Guy-I’m-Pretty-Sure-I’ve-Never-Seen-In-My-Life,” I replied in one breath.

His look changed from one of happiness to one of pure irritation and annoyance. “Excuse me?” he asked in a voice filled with attitude.

I raised my eyebrows. Bipolar much? “Excuse yourself, Mr. Dickens,” I replied, lacing my fingers together like I always did when I got pissed off. What the hell was wrong with this kid?

“What do you mean you’ve never seen me in my life?!” he screeched.

My eyebrows probably disappeared into my hair. “I’m gonna let that slide, because it’s obvious you have some serious PMS issues,” I said calmly, settling down into my chair. Maybe this was why the chair was empty. People preferred to admire him from afar.

“DUDE!” he whisper-screamed.

“Calm yourself, No-Name, it’s not the end of the world.”

He sighed to himself angrily, pulling out his phone, making me eye him more closely.

“Maybe we have met before?” I suggested. “That I’m just falling victim to my short-term memory lapses and we’ve been together since kindergarten, perhaps?”

Bipolar-Dude thrust his phone under my nose and pinched his forehead. “Read it!”

I didn’t bother, just looked at the picture. Then back at him. Then...”OH!” I exclaimed. “You’re that one guy...from that one band that I went to go see! Cory Haven? I got your autograph!”

He huffed in annoyance. Seriously, the guy looked like a kid on a temper tantrum. Was fame that important to him? “I’m not just that one guy. I’m the lead singer and guitarist. And it’s not just that one band. It’s Devils Worship! Like the hottest boy band of the now!”

I nodded. “Alright, alright, don’t get your Superstar undies in a twist. I remember now.”

“Well...?” he prompted. I pursed my lips in question. “Do you want my autograph or not?!”

“No,” I responded flatly.

“WHAT?” Cory screeched. Jesus...that boy could yell.

“Did you not listen to me?” I said calmly. “I just said that I got your autograph at your concert.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Which one?”

I waved my hand. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“How do you not know?! That should have been the best moment in your pathetic little life! How can you not remember?”

Okay, this guy was really starting to piss me off. “I have a life, you know,” I replied, a hard edge coming into my voice as I clasped my hands together harder. “There’s more to life than a stupid little concert.”

Cory sprung to his feet and raised his hand, although nobody was there. He pointed at me, scowled, and said, “I don’t want her sitting next to me! Take her away!”

My eyes widened as a couple of black-clad African American guys who were pure muscle stalked to where I was sitting and each lifted me up easily by one arm, barely letting me grab my bag. “Hey!” I protested. “My guitar!”

Cory looked at me in shock, as though surprised that someone like me would ever be able to play the guitar properly. “You play the guitar?”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I didn’t bring it for show.”

He kindly ignored my jibe. “Put her down, boys.” The guys set me back down on my feet, none too gently, and I shook my arms out, shooting a nasty glare at them. “So, do you play well?” he asked, putting on his charming act, almost like his little biznitch fit never happened.

I couldn’t believe this guy. What was wrong with his personality? Did his mom drop him on his pretty little head, causing damage or what? I stared at him for a moment, getting my temper under control. Celebrity brats...I was fortunate to never meet one. Until now. “Yes,” I responded flatly.

“Excellent,” he said briskly, not taking in my bored tone. “Go ahead. Play something.”

I let out a small sigh. “Why?”

“Why...?” he echoed, his eyes narrowing.

“Why the hell should I play guitar for you?”

“Most people would kill to have the chance to play for me!” Cory yelled. Goddammit, where’s the stupid teacher? Oh right...I was early. I figured that Cory’s little temper tantrums were a daily occurrence, because nobody really seemed to care. A few shot me sympathetic looks; even the girls when they realized I wasn’t flirting.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like being bossed around.” It was slightly amusing to watch his, admittedly fast, progression to anger while I just stood still, giving him incredulous looks and short answers. It really seemed to infuriate him.

Now, before I met him, I thought he was pretty awesome and his band was really good. I mean, they still are really good, but Cory’s a total girl. They started out as a garage bang and slowly worked up to become the singing sensations they are today. Their story was kind of my inspiration to start my own band. If word of my gigs reached the right people, then maybe I’d get a record deal! It was a dream of mine.

As for not recognizing him...I mostly listened to their music, not looked at their pictures. A couple months, though, there was this huge scandal involving Cory. I don’t know the details, so that’s probably why he was attending a “nobody,” school instead of Stanford or Princeton. Maybe I’d look it up like the stalker I was. Or I could ask him.

I glanced at him highly red face that screamed to me, “ABORT, ABORT, ABORT, DANGER!” Haha, yeah right.

“You will play for me,” he said in an attempt to scare me. I just stared blankly. “Play the damned guitar!”

“Will it make you shut the hell up?” I questioned finally.

“YES!” he replied, beaming. God, he really was a strange kid.

I bent down to get my guitar case and gently set it down on my desk, opening it slowly. I pulled out the guitar and tuned it up a bit, then turned back to Mr. PMS. “What do you want me to play?”

“Anything,” he shrugged vaguely.

I growled in frustration and decided to kiss up a little bit. I sang, “In the Fire,” my favorite of Devils Worship’s band. (A/N: Not a real band OR song :D) After a minute or so, another voice joined in in perfect harmony with me. It took me the few seconds it took the chatter of the rest of the class to die down to figure out that it was Cory that was singing with me. He was boring holes in my head those really dark gold eyes, an unreadable expression in them, so I crossed my own to confuse him. He didn’t even miss a beat, but smiled just a little.

When the song ended, I put my guitar away to avoid his penetrating gaze. “Happy now?” I asked.

“Hmmm,” he said thoughtfully. “You were actually off-key, you know. And you plucked the wrong chord in the second verse.” He eyed my expression for a second, then hastily added, “No offense or anything.” Ha, he was scared of me.

I finally looked up and narrowed my eyes. “I’ve seen corpses less offensive than you.”

Cory laughed. The bastard actually laughed. I don’t recall doing anything funny. What is wrong with that kid?

I opened my mouth to snap at him for insulting my singing, when the sound of one person clapping loudly, which gradually fed into the entire class, broke me off. The applause grew into thunderous claps and various cat-calls and wolf-whistles and cheers. My eyebrows raised. I didn’t think I was that good. But Cory just sat there, a self-satisfied smirk on his tanned face. He was obviously used to people loving him, the way he carried himself.

“That was great, you two,” a man’s deep voice spoke up from the back of the classroom, unnoticed by me because of the shadows. He stepped forward for me to note that he could’ve been a student at this college, and threw me an appreciative glance. “I’ll talk to you, Miss Hill, about this later. But let’s start class, alright? Take out your notes, guys.”

He’ll talk to me later? What for? What did I do wrong? Then I processed the rest of his sentence. Notes? We’re taking notes?

What the hell...?