Charmed Life
Chapter Fifteen
It’s like a spell is broken.
I practically jump back and away from James as the phone rings and cuts the silence. He is startled, and inhales sharply.
“Sorry,” I mumble, before getting up and pulling my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. I give James a weak smile before retreating to my room. I’m breathing hard, and I let the phone ring several times before picking it up. “Hayden, hey.”
“Why are you so out of breath?” He never misses a beat.
I roll my eyes. “I had to run up the stairs to get the phone."
“No wonder it took so long. You really should exercise more. You might be skinny on the outside, Lanie, but you’re fat –”
“Hayden!”
“Sorry. Anyway. I got bad news and good news. Or good news and good news. Depends how you look at it.”
“Hayden.”
“Right. Okay. Rebecca. She’s crazy. I'm sorry. Amanda told me what happened and... you're right. She's instane. You’ll be happy to know that we’re done.”
“Great, another break-up because of me,” I mumble.
“What?”
“Nothing. What’s the bad news?”
He pauses. “…That was the bad news.” I sigh again, loudly, into the phone. He can be so frustrating sometimes. He laughs at my frustration. “Sorry. Good news is: We got a gig!”
“A gig?” I frown, even though he can’t see me. I flop back onto the bed, closing my eyes and trying to forget what had just happened downstairs.
“You know? A gig? Where someone actually pays us to perform?”
“And who is we, exactly?”
“The Band, you, me. It’s gonna be great.”
“Why am I involved in this?” I roll onto my stomach. I’m trying really hard to focus on the conversation at hand, but I can’t stop thinking about the almost kiss.
“We don’t have a gig without you,” Hayden explains. Before I can press him, he continues. “A couple saw us – you – performing at The Grille. They asked for you specifically.”
“I’m not a performer, Hayden,” I reply. “I can’t perform at a wedding.” He’s ridiculous. I can’t believe he’d actually think I’d sing. In front of a whole wedding party.
“The guys thought you’d say that, and asked me to kindly remind you that they took you in, rent free, when your home was burglarized. Their words, not mine.”
I loudly make a sound somewhere between a groan and a grunt, and face plant into my bed. Sometimes, I really hate my best friend.
…..
“This is so stupid,” I complain, looking at myself in the mirror back stage. The wedding ceremony is over, and the reception is under way. We’re on in five and I’m about to puke. The outfits aren’t helping.
“We are called The Suspended,” Chris points out, using his drumstick as an indicator. The guys look fine in their black jeans, white short sleeves and yellow suspenders, complete with a red bow tie.
I, on the other hand, am wearing the “girl” version of the outfit. Short black skirt, white tank, and my own pair of yellow suspenders.
“Yeah, not the suspenders,” I counter.
Chris’s face falls, and I feel a little bad. “It made sense… at the time…”
“Guys!” Hayden comes bursting into the rehearsal room, where Eric, Chris and I are waiting. “Ready?”
“Let’s get this over with,” I sigh.
…..
2 MONTHS LATER
…..
“How’d it go?” James asks me as I step out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower.
“Good,” I smile pleasantly. “How was your date?”
“Good.”
“Great. Night.”
“Night.”
This is how’s it been for the past several weeks.
We exchange pleasantries, and that’s as far as conversations go. It doesn’t help that we barely see each other. He doesn’t pick me up from The Grille anymore and I work most weekends, while he’s gone most weekdays.
I left The Grille, and my income now comes from performing at weddings. Who knew people get married so often. Last week, we did three weddings.
The Suspended have become quite popular in the area. I’m making enough to support my grandparents, and myself, and things are great.
Except for things between James and I.
It was a problem, but as far as I know, James is fine with it. If he’s not working, then he’s out on a date with this girl or that.
I just feel like he’s mad at me. Which makes what I’m about to tell him that much harder.
Dressing in a tee and shorts, I leave the safety of my room in search of James. It’s almost one, but I need to say this now before I chicken out.
I find him in the patio, covered and heated for the cold and bitter winter.
The patio is a spacious room filled with wicker furniture. A sofa, a love seat, and chaise lounge surround a coffee table. James is sitting back on the lounge in a tee and sweatpants, his laptop propped up in front of him, a cup of coffee on the table.
“Hey,” I greet nervously. A small frown creases his forehead, but he doesn’t respond. I take a seat on the sofa end nearest him. “So… you’re date went well?”
“Yeah,” he says, clicking away on the laptop, still not looking at me. What the hell?
“I, um, have something to tell you.”
Nothing. No reaction. I frown, my temper beginning to rise. I continue with more assurance. “It’s kind of important.”
“Oh, yeah?” he looks up finally, and all my patience disappears.
“Yeah,” I snap. “Can you put the laptop down for a second?”
“Only a second?”
I narrow my eyes at him. I can’t believe I ever thought that stupid accent was cute. It’s just irritating.
“Forget it,” I snap again, getting up. Telling him is a courtesy, but I don’t owe this guy anything.
Okay, that’s a lie. I owe him everything, and I intend to pay him back, but not when he’s being a jerk.
“Alayna, wait!” I hear him place the laptop on the table.
I whirl around as he gets up.
“What?” I hiss, my face only inches from his.
He doesn’t say anything, and just stares at me with this smoldering look in his eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess that he’s about to kiss me.
He moves forward, and I step back.
At the same moment, I say, “I’m moving out.”
I practically jump back and away from James as the phone rings and cuts the silence. He is startled, and inhales sharply.
“Sorry,” I mumble, before getting up and pulling my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. I give James a weak smile before retreating to my room. I’m breathing hard, and I let the phone ring several times before picking it up. “Hayden, hey.”
“Why are you so out of breath?” He never misses a beat.
I roll my eyes. “I had to run up the stairs to get the phone."
“No wonder it took so long. You really should exercise more. You might be skinny on the outside, Lanie, but you’re fat –”
“Hayden!”
“Sorry. Anyway. I got bad news and good news. Or good news and good news. Depends how you look at it.”
“Hayden.”
“Right. Okay. Rebecca. She’s crazy. I'm sorry. Amanda told me what happened and... you're right. She's instane. You’ll be happy to know that we’re done.”
“Great, another break-up because of me,” I mumble.
“What?”
“Nothing. What’s the bad news?”
He pauses. “…That was the bad news.” I sigh again, loudly, into the phone. He can be so frustrating sometimes. He laughs at my frustration. “Sorry. Good news is: We got a gig!”
“A gig?” I frown, even though he can’t see me. I flop back onto the bed, closing my eyes and trying to forget what had just happened downstairs.
“You know? A gig? Where someone actually pays us to perform?”
“And who is we, exactly?”
“The Band, you, me. It’s gonna be great.”
“Why am I involved in this?” I roll onto my stomach. I’m trying really hard to focus on the conversation at hand, but I can’t stop thinking about the almost kiss.
“We don’t have a gig without you,” Hayden explains. Before I can press him, he continues. “A couple saw us – you – performing at The Grille. They asked for you specifically.”
“I’m not a performer, Hayden,” I reply. “I can’t perform at a wedding.” He’s ridiculous. I can’t believe he’d actually think I’d sing. In front of a whole wedding party.
“The guys thought you’d say that, and asked me to kindly remind you that they took you in, rent free, when your home was burglarized. Their words, not mine.”
I loudly make a sound somewhere between a groan and a grunt, and face plant into my bed. Sometimes, I really hate my best friend.
…..
“This is so stupid,” I complain, looking at myself in the mirror back stage. The wedding ceremony is over, and the reception is under way. We’re on in five and I’m about to puke. The outfits aren’t helping.
“We are called The Suspended,” Chris points out, using his drumstick as an indicator. The guys look fine in their black jeans, white short sleeves and yellow suspenders, complete with a red bow tie.
I, on the other hand, am wearing the “girl” version of the outfit. Short black skirt, white tank, and my own pair of yellow suspenders.
“Yeah, not the suspenders,” I counter.
Chris’s face falls, and I feel a little bad. “It made sense… at the time…”
“Guys!” Hayden comes bursting into the rehearsal room, where Eric, Chris and I are waiting. “Ready?”
“Let’s get this over with,” I sigh.
…..
2 MONTHS LATER
…..
“How’d it go?” James asks me as I step out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower.
“Good,” I smile pleasantly. “How was your date?”
“Good.”
“Great. Night.”
“Night.”
This is how’s it been for the past several weeks.
We exchange pleasantries, and that’s as far as conversations go. It doesn’t help that we barely see each other. He doesn’t pick me up from The Grille anymore and I work most weekends, while he’s gone most weekdays.
I left The Grille, and my income now comes from performing at weddings. Who knew people get married so often. Last week, we did three weddings.
The Suspended have become quite popular in the area. I’m making enough to support my grandparents, and myself, and things are great.
Except for things between James and I.
It was a problem, but as far as I know, James is fine with it. If he’s not working, then he’s out on a date with this girl or that.
I just feel like he’s mad at me. Which makes what I’m about to tell him that much harder.
Dressing in a tee and shorts, I leave the safety of my room in search of James. It’s almost one, but I need to say this now before I chicken out.
I find him in the patio, covered and heated for the cold and bitter winter.
The patio is a spacious room filled with wicker furniture. A sofa, a love seat, and chaise lounge surround a coffee table. James is sitting back on the lounge in a tee and sweatpants, his laptop propped up in front of him, a cup of coffee on the table.
“Hey,” I greet nervously. A small frown creases his forehead, but he doesn’t respond. I take a seat on the sofa end nearest him. “So… you’re date went well?”
“Yeah,” he says, clicking away on the laptop, still not looking at me. What the hell?
“I, um, have something to tell you.”
Nothing. No reaction. I frown, my temper beginning to rise. I continue with more assurance. “It’s kind of important.”
“Oh, yeah?” he looks up finally, and all my patience disappears.
“Yeah,” I snap. “Can you put the laptop down for a second?”
“Only a second?”
I narrow my eyes at him. I can’t believe I ever thought that stupid accent was cute. It’s just irritating.
“Forget it,” I snap again, getting up. Telling him is a courtesy, but I don’t owe this guy anything.
Okay, that’s a lie. I owe him everything, and I intend to pay him back, but not when he’s being a jerk.
“Alayna, wait!” I hear him place the laptop on the table.
I whirl around as he gets up.
“What?” I hiss, my face only inches from his.
He doesn’t say anything, and just stares at me with this smoldering look in his eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess that he’s about to kiss me.
He moves forward, and I step back.
At the same moment, I say, “I’m moving out.”