Young and Beautiful

Mom, Michael, and I were back at our house in Lincoln Park the next morning. The lawn was full of evenly cut, bright green. Only two trees were behind our black gates and they were full of life too. The branches were so full that they drooped over the fence and each other. Squirrels, birds, and even rabbits roamed across.

We stepped inside the house. I was happy to see the tiled floor, giant opening to the living room, and the winding stairs that one would see when they first walked in. Michael already began screaming and his voice carried throughout the giant house. He ran up the stairs to his room, leaving his suitcase with Mom and me.

I remembered Katrina’s request, so after Mom sighed and told me to bring our suitcases up, I asked her if Katrina could come over. The answer was yes as long as I finished unpacking first.

Two hours later, the doorbell rang continuously and I knew exactly who it was. I opened the door and Katrina kept pressing the doorbell. I had to pull her hand away to get her to stop.

“Hey, bitch!” Katrina pushed me aside to walk in.

I looked out the doorway. “Where’s Jack? I thought you were bringing him?”

“He’s parking the bike. Got any eyeliner?” I found myself scratching my neck at the mention of the motorcycle. “The dye in my eyebrows is fading and I need something to color them while I wait for my next appointment.”

I nodded and she left, already knowing where I kept my makeup. She needed it because her eyebrows were as white as her hair and they camouflaged with her nearly translucent skin.

My back was to the opened door when someone knocked. I swallowed my scream and jumped around. Jack stood in the doorway. He walked inside cautiously, his eyes wide at the sight in front of him. Despite the boiling weather, he wore black skinny jeans. A white muscle tee wrapped tightly around his torso and it exposed a tattoo of a stemmed rose on his upper right arm. Once again his ebony hair was pulled back by gel. To make it all worse, I swear to God I thought I saw a comb in his pocket. Now all he needed was a black leather jacket with “T-Birds” patched on the back.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.” He was looking up, gazing across the house.

I crossed my arms. “What?”

“I didn’t think Katrina was serious when she said your house is big.” Jack’s brown eyes met mine. “I’ve never met anyone who lives in a mansion.”

I shrugged. “It’s not a mansion. There are bigger ones in the suburbs. Nice to see you too, by the way.”

“This house is so big and you have a crystal chandelier in the walkway,” Jack said, pointing to the ceiling. The chandelier he was speaking of wasn’t a big one that would murder someone if dropped. It was small and could easily fit in both my hands. “Wow. How rich are you?”

I gasped, surprised by the bluntness of his train of though.

Jack looked at me. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry. That was rude.”

I cleared my throat. “Actually, it’s a diamond chandelier.”

Jack almost exclaimed something but stopped because Katrina was coming down the stairs. Her eyebrows were now a very light brown. She put on mascara as well and now the red in her eyes seemed softer.

“Katrina,” Jack rumbled. He motioned around the entrance of my house.

“Wait until you see the rest of this place,” Katrina said. “I wanna watch a movie. Let’s go.”

I guided the two of them to the basement, introducing Jack to my family along the way. Jack gasped when I turned on the lights. Mom turned the basement into a small family theater a few years ago. An eighty inch flat screen hung on the wall and in front of it sat four theater chairs and five beanbags. Katrina went straight to the microwave in the corner of the room and started making popcorn. I went to the refrigerator, grabbing some drinks. I handed a coke to Jack who was already on a beanbag, texting off a flip-phone.

“Thanks. What are we watching?” Jack asked.

“Let’s watch an oldie.” Katrina put in a VHS tape that she retrieved from Mom’s collection. I tried sitting on a theater chair but I was pushed down onto a beanbag next to Jack.

“What was that for?” I screamed.

“I wanna lay down as we watch this.” Katrina put up an armrest and then lay across the two front chairs.

I heard a rumble and it took a few seconds to realize it was only Jack chuckling.

It didn’t take long for Katrina to fall asleep. Now it was only me, Jack, Funny Face, and popcorn that only Jack was eating. By the way he patted his hand against his leg and was moving to his own rhythm, I had a feeling he wasn’t paying attention to the movie.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Creating a song,” Jack said.

I sighed. I forgot he was in a band.

Suddenly Jack asked me, “How come you don’t eat junk food?”

“On a diet.”

“But you don’t really need the diet.”

His comment made my stomach drop. He was quite blunt, wasn’t he? I said a dull thanks anyway.

“Katrina is trying to set us up,” Jack said.

“I know. I don’t know why. You’re so much older than me.”

Jack smiled. Then he asked, “What does your mother do for a living? Someone told me at the party but I don’t remember.”

“She’s a real estate agent and an entrepreneur. She helps businesses all across the country. We also get income from my dad’s old job,” I explained.

A certain look came across Jack’s face that told me he noticed I used past tense. He didn’t press on.

“You sure do have a lot of money. Not many people can say they have a theater in their basement,” Jack said. The movie was no longer the main concern and Audrey Hepburn’s voice was now background noise. Jack turned to me. “Tell me about yourself.”

I shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything.”

How specific.

Jack asked a question as if he read my mind. “Who’s your favorite musician?”

“Katy Perry. Lady Gaga. One Direction. I don’t know.”

Jack’s face scrunched together as if he was disgusted by something. It quickly passed and I was asked another question. “Favorite movie?”

“A Walk to Remember.”

“Book.”

“Anything with some good romance will do.”

“Song.”

I shrugged. “Too many.”

“Food?”

“Don’t have a favorite. Although, have you tried Portillo’s hot dogs? You really should.”

A series of other questions followed, and then Jack told me about himself. His favorite band was Arctic Monkeys and his favorite song was “Stop the World I Wanna Get Off with You”. He liked horror movies and despite his thin but muscular body, he ate junk food all the time. He hardly ever read unless it was a motorcycle or a band magazine. Then he moved on to tell me about his collections. He had five sets of drums. He said the brands they belonged to but I didn’t care enough to remember. Another thing Jack collected were motorcycles. He had three, one of which he rode here.

I shrugged. “Not really a motorcycle fan.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Why?” he boomed.

My heart shook as I looked away. Suddenly, I was remembering the day Michael was born. Grandma called Dad from his office, telling him Mom was in labor. Dad jumped onto his motorcycle without a helmet, which he knew Mom hated. Despite the amount of warnings Mom gave Dad, he never listened. Hours later, after Dad missed Michael’s birth, Mom got a call from a hospital she’s never heard of saying her husband was dead. He had been hit by a truck. According to the doctor, the truck pushed him off the motorcycle (squishing it along the way) and Dad hit the street hard. Judging by the injuries, Dad hit the ground head first and the fall was so violent that not even a helmet would’ve saved him.

Since then, I have avoided everything that had anything to do with motorcycles. I’ve never even ridden a bicycle since before that day.

I didn’t realize I had zoned out until Jack said my name.

“Layla, you’re crying. And your neck is bleeding.”

I felt a tear run down my cheek as I pulled my hand away from my neck.

Jack raised an eyebrow, giving me sad puppy eyes along the way. “You alright? You weren’t in a motorcycle accident or anything, were you?”

A shill shot up my spin. As a crash sounded in my ears, blood splattered before my eyes. There was a crunching of bones and metal.
I sniffled, wiped away my tears, and decided to ignore his question. “So, do you have any plans for the future?” I asked. “What if Midnight Rain doesn’t work? It’s hard to get a record deal nowadays. And what about popularity? The less popularity you have, the less support.”

Jack sat back, surprised by my dialogue. He stared at me for a minute, and I could tell he was wondering if he should proceed with asking about motorcycles. But then he smirked, the right side of his mouth tilting upwards. “We’ll get popular.”

“And how do you know this?”

“I just do.” He looked at me. “What are your plans?”

“Don’t have any. I’m just gonna go with the flow.”

“You have all this money-” Jack gestured around my house – “to do anything you want. And yet you don’t have a plan?”

I shook my head.

Jack sighed, crossing his arms behind his head and staring at the screen. “I wish I had this much money. Would help get a kick start.”

In the movie, Audrey Hepburn was walking around Paris while singing. This sparked an idea, and I turned to Jack.

“Hey. My mom is bringing Katrina and me to Six Flags later this month. Michael decided he wants to wait until he’s older to go so I’m sure my mom will be more than happy to give you his ticket. Why don’t you come with? It’ll get your mind off of your band.”
If Katrina wanted us to date, then I guess it was time to give it a shot.

“I may have a show that day,” Jack said.

“And if you don’t…?”

Jack opened his flip-phone and began pressing a button three times to get the letter he wanted. “I’ll let you know.”