There Will Be Rain

Isobelle

It was getting close to 4pm and Jemma still hadn’t turned up, I wanted to be at the venue for at least 6. She’d left my house in a hurry way over 3 hours ago, what the hell had happened? Had some genius fraudster made off with her millions? No I didn’t think so either.

Pacing my room I nervously began tugging at the cuff of my jumper with my teeth, it was such a bad habit of mine which had stemmed from exams in high school. Disturbing my thoughts from my incessant wondering the phone rang throughout my empty house.

“Hello”

“Isobelle, Honey, Happy 18th!”

The voice down the phone was so familiar to me; it had been there my whole life. Yet recently in my memories it was quickly beginning to fade, like photographs holding precious memories how eventually after time fade into nothing.

“Hey mum, thanks”

Being as blunt as I possibly could I wanted her to know I was pissed, pissed that yet again another of my birthdays they have missed because of her and my father’s business trips. Yes I had a life of luxury; I had everything I could wish for. But wanting your parents here with you on one of your landmark celebrations wasn’t too much to ask was it? According to my parents it was verging on the impossible.

“You’re present is on top of my wardrobe sweetie go run and get it, I had it flown in from New York last week before we left”

My mother’s sickly sweet voice drowned down the phone, rolling my eyes I ran up the stairs not wanting to keep her away from her business commitments too much. Pulling a chair that was part of the decoration in my parent’s lavish bedroom, I stepped up and cautiously retrieved the purple parcel elegantly wrapped and styled with a black bow.

“Open it”

My mother urged as I sensed her need to end this call, rebelling I began to unwrap the wrapping paper as slowly as my fingers would allow. Eventually I heard my mother’s longing sigh come down the phone hitting my ears, as I scoffed at my parent’s lack of parental involvement.

“Oh it’s a playsuit okay, I know you’re pissed were not there, but it cost me a lot of money so you better be grateful, bye.”

My mouth hung open at her sudden outburst, yet it shouldn’t have surprised me. I was about to argue back my case as well, but she cut of contact before I had enough courage. Ripping off the rest of the wrapping paper I was confronted with a beautiful floral, one shoulder playsuit.

Shrugging my shoulders to myself, I folded it over my arm and agreed I would wear it later for the concert. However I still wasn’t satisfied, even though the playsuit was undeniably beautiful, I still couldn’t believe that my parents thought they could pay me off with money. I didn’t want the money, I just wanted my parents.

Changing into the playsuit I eagerly did my make-up with some smoky eyes, and then swiftly backcombed little strands of my hair to add more volume to it. The doorbell downstairs rang throughout my house as I immediately bolted down the stairs in my grey converses, opening the door revealing in front of my eyes my best friend Jemma.

“Sorry I’m late but we need to talk”

I was about to argue back, shouting at her for being so late and putting me through stress. But something in her eyes told me to hold back, her brown eyes had a new lease of life, something I hadn’t noticed in a while. However she was completely serious, something was going down. That’s when I noticed the hold all she had before was more bulky and crammed, her guitar slung effortlessly over her back.

“You didn’t go to the bank did you?”

Jemma shock her head solemnly as I stepped aside to let her in, her guitar case fell off her shoulder and she placed it delicately in the corner by the coats along with her hold all.
Grabbing my hand into hers she dragged me over to my sofa, pushing down on my shoulders lightly to tell me to sit.

She paced my living room for a while, her black boots clicking against the laminate flooring with every step. In record speed she was biting at her nails nervously, she was wondering how much to tell me…I could tell.

“Right well urm thing is….Jerry he got into a fight last night, got knocked out, he was in hospital. He is okay, but he retaliated and beat the guy up pretty bad. Thing is he might get locked up for a long time, they’re pressing charges. I have nowhere to go”

Jemma refused to meet my gaze throughout the whole rant, I knew damn well she was either lying or withholding some pretty crucial information, but I wasn’t going to question her about it tonight. She always had a tough life, I always felt guilty rubbing mine in hers but my life was nothing to brag about with AWOL parents.

“You can stay here, my parents won’t even care”

I responded not mentioning Jerry’s incident, I knew she always hating talking about him ever since we started high school. She smiled big before tackling me to the couch in a huge grateful, bone crushing hug. Chuckling to myself I began to find it hard to breathe in her grip.

“Okay, you’re happy….now please…let…me…go”

She let go of me before inspecting my attire for the concert.

“Wow hot stuff” She joked pulling at the material of the playsuit, I tugged it down further paranoid it was too short, “Oli isn’t going to be able to keep his hands off you” Jemma winked mockingly as my cheeks flushed a violent pink.

“Shut up, you know it’s not like that with us”

“See you liked my presents then”

She nodded to the gifts she had bared upon me for my birthday, as I fiddled with necklace and gazed at the two bracelets she got me. She always did get the best presents.

“Yeah how did you know I wanted this necklace, I’ve been eyeing it up for ages”

Shock and elation filled up my face as I smiled down at my new necklace hanging loosely around my neck, Jemma looked at me like I was stupid, and her brow rose in bewilderment.

“I’m your best fucking friend Belle, how did I not know you wanted it. I know what you’re like when something catches your eye…you were the same way with Oliver”

We broke down into a fit of laughter as I helped Jemma take her bags into my room; I knew my parents would be pissed when they come back and see Jemma living here. But in 2 weeks they couldn’t do shit, I was leaving for London with Jemma and never coming back.

“Bro’s who date Hoe’s in the HOUSE!”

As Jemma’s guitar was placing into a corner of my room, we both rolled our eyes at Oli’s voice effortlessly reaching each inch of the house. He walked, well more like stumbled into my room, a bottle of Vodka grasped tightly in his right hand. Ethan wondered in guiltily behind him.

“Ethan really?! you were meant to be watching him”

I glared at Oli when I emphasized him, he pouted like a child he knew he was in deep shit.

“Awhh babe, I’m sooowwwiieee. I’m fineeeee honestly….look”

He leant off my door frame, placing one foot in front of the other as he tried to walk across my room. He made it half way before he stumbled nearly knocking himself on my bed side drawer, but me and Jemma caught his dead weight between us.

“Great how the fuck are we supposed to get him there, let alone in”

I sighed in defeat this was my birthday night, I wanted to see Young Guns but it seemed like everything was working against me tonight.

“He’ll sober up when we walk there, the fresh air will do him good”

Ethan mumbled bluntly before scratching the nape of his neck, shrugging his shoulders and then walking downstairs to turn my TV on. He didn’t give a fucking damn, Jemma scoffed loudly beside me, before helping me downstairs to get Oli some coffee. Propping him up on the island stool, I poked Jemma in her side gesturing to Ethan; something was up with him, her or both of them. She simply shook her head indicating she was just as clueless as me.

Well this was going to be some fucking birthday to remember I thought to myself.