The Kids From Yesterday

11:39pm
Seattle, Washington
East-Seattle Amphitheater
December 17th, 2004

Elliot and Frank walk up the steps into the bus. Elliot felt a grin creep on her face as she took in the state the bus was in. It was disaster to put it lightly. It was as if a teenage room had thrown up in there, time’s about 5. There were clothes, coffee mugs, empty packs of Marlbol’s, shoes, socks, boxers, and God-knows-what-else, littering the ground, the couches, and the counter tops.

“Sorry for the mess,” Frank says slightly embarrassed.

“S’okay, the mess is endearing, it gives it a homey feeling,” Elliot laughs, “It may smell like grown men, but it’s better than teenage boys, which trust me, isn’t endearing.”

That earned a laugh from Frank; well his pot-giggle.

“Elliot, trust me, we’re just teenagers in adult bodies—not even for me though—I still look like I’m 15,” He giggles.

Elliot was starting to like this Frank guy. She liked how he probably took nothing seriously, except for maybe a handful of things, and how he probably made a joke of everything. That was good, because life is too fucking short to be taken seriously at all. It’s a waste of time if life is taken seriously, because we’re only here for a designated amount of time, so during those pre-allotted seconds, you might as well go bat-shit-crazy.

“Hey guys!” Frank called out, “They’re either in their bunks or the back, the Way’s like to cool down in their bunks while Toro and Bryar like cool off in the back,” he informs Elliot.

“What?” They all lazily replied. Frank rolls his eyes at the laziness of his band mates.

“Can you come in here? We need to discuss something,” he calls back.

Frank directs Elliot to sit on the least cluttered couch. She declines since she was still pretty wet.

“You’re fine, trust me, Gerard has puked on this couch multiple times, honestly you’d be doing a favor,” Frank laughs.

She gives him a disgusted look.

“Don’t worry, we had them washed with one of those water vacuum cleaner things,” he made the motion of a vacuum that had her giggling.

“You mean a carpet cleaner?” She asks teasingly.

“Yeah, that!” Frank yells missing the tease-like tone of her voice.

“Frank, you brought her to the bus?” Gerard asks the second he walks in.

“Who is she,” Asked a lanky looking kid.

“This is Elliot,” Frank began completely ignoring Gerard, “Elliot; this is the band, that’s Mikey,” He pointed to Sir Lanky, “That’s Bob,” He pointed to a Beard, “That’s Ray,” He pointed to One Impressive Head of Hair, “And that’s Gerard,” He pointed to Someone Who Needed to Get Laid, “And I’m Frank,” Frank points to himself.

“Hey,” They all said simultaneously.

“Hi,” She says back, she even waves.

“So, Frank, what is that you have up your diabolical sleeve?” Impressive Hair asks.

I think I just fell in love with a voice; speak again you ball of fur!

“I was thinking we offer her something,” Frank hinted at.

Here goes nothing…

“Such as?” Ray asked again.

“What do you guys think?” Frank said crossing his arms at the fact that his bandmates weren’t catching on to his plan. Usually they were telepathic and could read each other’s minds from five miles away. They should probably get their antennas checked.

“You want her to tour with us?” Ray finally caught on.

“Yes,” Frank nods enthusiastically.

It sunk in for a minute before Gerard decided to ruin the party.

“Frank, we don’t even know her, we don’t know if she has documentation that says she is who she is, she’s a runaway, and she doesn’t look more than fifteen years old, we could get into a lot of trouble,” Yup, he really needed to get laid…

Elliot began to open her bag and started to feel through it. She pulled out the Ziploc bag that had all of her important papers and cards.

“I have my papers, if it makes any difference,” she mumbled softly.

She dumped all of the papers on the table behind her.

Inside of Ziploc bag was her Birth Certificate from the hospital she was born at, her state issued Birth Certificate, her Social Security Card, her Massachusetts State Identification Card, her passport that she had renewed before she graduated, all of her high school ID cards, and finally her High School Diploma.

Gerard’s eyebrows rose at the magnitude of papers that just fell from the bag.

“Look, I’m not some dumb runaway who left because I didn’t want to listen to my parents,” she defended pointing at all of the paper work.

“Then why did you leave?” Gerard asked.

Elliot was getting sick of prying questions. Did he really think she was going to tell him anything, with that attitude?

He’s so on my shit list, the little shit.

“First Rule of Street Life: Don’t trust anyone,” Frank said for her.

She liked that kid more and more every second.

Keep this up Frank, and you’ll become a favorite person on planet earth.

“She’s like 12,” Bob said.

“I’m eighteen I’ll have you know, it’s written here on my birth certificate, I just turned eighteen on
Halloween,” Elliot huffed.

“Halloween?” Frank asks suddenly very excited.

“Yeah, I’m cool like that,” she smirks.
“My birthday is on Halloween!” he raised his hand and the two high-fived.
Favorite! Frank is officially my favorite person on planet earth.
“Sweet!”
“Okay, you demonic children,” Gerard interrupted their little moment of communal excitement
because, come on, they were both born on the best holiday ever, “What is she going to do if we bring her out?”
“I could clean,” Elliot piped up with almost instantly.

They all gave her insulted looks. She looked at them with aloofness.

“Oh come on, it’s a disaster in here, yes I said it gave it a homey feeling, but when was the last time you saw the ground? I could be a little house—err bus-keeper,” she argued, trying to get on the boy’s good sides.

“I say we keep her,” Bob was the first to say, “Her and Frank seem to get along, I like her, Ray doesn’t have a problem, Mikey do you care?” Mikey shook his head, “And she’ll grow on Gerard when he has caffeine in his system.”

Oh, that makes sense—caffeine withdrawals fucking suck.

“All in favor?” Ray asked.

All of them raised their hands, except Gerard… Frank elbowed him in the stomach and he too then raised his arm warily.

“Mikey, make me some coffee please,” Gerard grumbled before stalking off to the back of bus.

Elliot sticks her tongue at him when he turns his back at them, thus earning a chuckle from all the guys.

“Don’t mind him, he’s always a bit moody after a show, he just needs some coffee,” Mikey explains to her as he starts a pot of coffee for his brother.

“Well, is that it then? Because I was in the middle of kicking Ray’s ass at Guitar Hero and wouldn’t mind to finish,” Bob sneered—she was beginning to like him too.

“Yeah, that’s all I needed you guys for,” Frank answered distantly, “When are we getting to the hotel?”

“Dunno ask the driver, he said we’d be out of here by midnight, it’s a quarter till,” Ray answered, before following and smacking Bob about something to do with the video game.

Frank got up and went to the driver’s seat to ask.

“We’ll be there around three am Iero, it’s in Oregon and since traffic here at night isn’t horrible we’ll be able to make great time,” The driver said, “I’m waiting to get an ‘ok’ from the other two busses and trailer, they’re still loading.”

Frank nodded and thanked him.

While he was talking to the driver, Elliot was sorting all of her paper work, making sure it was all in order according to size. Her Birth Certificates on the bottom, then her diploma, then her passport, then her ID cards, and finally her Social Security Card. All the while, she was humming A Song from Under the Floorboards, by Morrissey.

“Morrissey eh?” Frank asked clearly surprised.

She nods sheepishly, she loved some good Morrissey.

She grins, “I was exposed to good music thanks to my friends back at home.”

“Yeah, but you’re singing a B-side,”

“A Song From Under the Floorboards, is one of my favorites, okay?”

“No arguing there,” he laughed, “Anyway, you want some dry clothes?”

She nods silently.

Elliot pulled on the hoodie that was wet and heavy. It was cold, and she wanted it off. She quickly unzipped it and yanked it off. Underneath she had a plain back t-shirt, and then a pair of beat-up Levi’s from her freshman; her shoes though were her favorite pair of converses a pair of tore-up-shot-to-hell-beat-to-hell high-tops.

“Let me get you something of mine,” he walks into where the bunks were; she was curious she followed him into the cramped bunk area.

There were 6 bunks, all taken from what it looked like, three on each side facing each other in a hallway type of configuration. Beyond the hallway of bunks she could hear the sounds of an intense guitar battle that consisted of a lot of weak insults and cheers.

Elliot refocused back to Frank who pulling out a bunch warm dark clothing. He had pulled out a long sleeved black thermal, a pair of black sweats, a pair of socks, and pair of blue boxer-briefs.

Boxers?

“Here you go, the bathroom is extremely cramped so try not to kill yourself in there, you can leave the wet clothes in the sink in the little kitchenette thing, and welcome aboard,” Frank pointed to a door Elliot hadn’t noticed yet.

Elliot grabbed her back pack and went inside of the tiny bathroom. There was absolutely no room in it. There was a toilet, a sink with a tiny mirror and unquestionably no leg room for any type of height.

She managed to change without killing herself or breaking anything inside the bathroom. But it was incredibly hard to take off her pants; they were so wet that she could barely pry them off. And since there was absolutely no leg space, she was surprised they came off at all.

Her under garments were soaked and she had to reside to wearing the boxers. She dug through her bag looking to see if her only sports bra was wet.

“Eureka!” She cheers when she finds it buried at the bottom and still decently dried.

Frank’s clothes were a bit big, but nothing she couldn’t fix without a drawstring that the sweats had and then folding the waist band as well. The long sleeved thermal felt like a dream when she put it on, it smelled like detergent, cigarette smoke, and something distinctly male. The sleeves only fell a couple inches past her fingers, they were frozen anyway. She slipped on the socks, and if her feet could sing, they would sing in angelic verses of gratitude.

Jesus, when was the last time I had on a pair of dry socks?

She looked at herself in the mirror. The bruises on her face were impressive and mean looking. She was surprised that none of the guys had commented on it yet, but then she figured that they figured that she wouldn’t answer if they asked.

She took her hair out of its ponytail and brushed it out. Elliot had blond hair that fell to about halfway down her back in waves. She liked her hair; it was tamable and usually looked presentable when it needed to be. It was also easy to dye it cool colors, so she never complained that she had blond hair.

She gathers all of her things and left the tiny bathroom that was making her feel more and more claustrophobic by the second.

She dumps all of her wet clothes and her bag into the kitchenette sink as Frank directed.

Frank was sitting at the table with all her important papers. He was slumped over a little; he had taken off his vest and tie. He looked even smaller now that he had taken off the hardware.

Frank looks up at Elliot when she walks out of the bathroom. She looked more childish drowning in his clothes.

Frank, damn it, focus.

“We’ll be leaving in about five minutes,” he says to her.

Elliot nods silently and joins him at the table.

“Thanks for the socks,” She mumbles, “and of course the rest of the clothes,”

“The socks?”

“Well yeah, my feet are very gracious of them, they haven’t had a pair of dry socks on in about three weeks, the rain here is so insistent, I like to think it’s out of spite,” Elliot brings her legs under her Indian style as she sits back, the booth of the table swallowing her.

“Tell your feet that they’re welcome,” he nods his head with a smirk and half lidded eyes.

“They say thank you,” Elliot grin’s half-assed.

The bus then jerks as it is taken out of park and put into drive.

“Alright kiddies, for the next four hours, we will be headed to our next destination for our much anticipated day off in Portland, Oregon,” said the driver as he led the bus out of the amphitheater.

Elliot rested her head on the table. She realized something; she was leaving Washington with a well-known band that had a decent reputation of saving lives. Literally, they saved hers, along with many other lives. She was safe, she was warm, and for the first time in weeks, she was dry. She couldn’t help but relax onto the table and slowly fall asleep, she sighs as she thinks of Frank’s eyes, the hazel-green tucking her in, making her tumble towards her dreams.
-
Frank watches the small girl sleep. He sighs, as her breathing becomes deep and slow.

Frank couldn’t help but think that the girl was more broken than she was leading to believe. However, no matter how broken she was, she had a snarky sense of humor that she probably used as a survival device and defense mechanism. Frank sat there at the table and watched her sleep, she looked younger when she was asleep, she already looked fifteen, but now she looked ten.

What did I get myself into?

Frank sighs and picks up the girl from her awkward position and lays on her on the least cluttered couch, he walks back to his bunk and yanks his blanket from the bed to cover her up with. After he tucks her in, he looks at the bruise on her face. It was a shiner, it needed ice, but he didn’t want to wake her up. He softly pushed the fly-a-ways out of her face instead and walked back to the table.