Walk Through Hell
[12]
"Hi, I'm Lexie, I'll be waiting on you today. Can I start you off with anything to drink?"
"Yeah, I'll take a Dr. Pepper and she will have water with no ice."
"Alright. I'll be right back with that." I said.
"How about you, stalker?" I asked at the next table.
"Uh, I'll have a grilled cheese." Jake said.
"Alright. I'll bring you another Sprite."
Sunday Sunday Sunday. Late morning rush killed us. Around 11, people just start piling in. I think it's because Sam figured out his awesome hangover cure. And we get the coffee shop crowd because we play mellow music from underground artists.
I took the couple their drinks and brought Jake another Sprite. "Your grilled cheese will be here in a minute."
"Alright, thanks." he said. He was working on our project. I think.
I brought out his sandwich and sat down across from him.
I looked over the script. Pretty solid stuff. "I like it."
"Anything you want to change?"
"The... first half of the second page, I'm going to edit. And a couple of other lines. It's funny, though."
"Cool. Costumes?"
"Well, I was thinking, since we decided it will take place at a party, I'll wear a nice dress. I've got a ton I don't mind if they get ruined. You can wear a tux. If you don't have one, I'm sure we've got one lying around somewhere."
"I've got one."
"Alright."
My teacher was so content with this project, she decided that every week while we do this, she'll add on. This week, we were told we'd be getting a test grade on the costumes.
Last week she told us the script will be our final exam, and that the video will count as another test grade.
"Alright. Keep working, I have to go back to work."
"Why do you do that?"
"Excuse me?"
"Work. Your dad has money."
"Because it better prepares me for the real world. Who do you think is more content with their lives, kids whose wealth is handed down, who will have to endure the scandal of having money and uncertainty of dealing with money, or the person who really earns it?"
"I guess you're right." he said.
I know I'm right.
I took the couple their eggs and hash browns, with a side of buttered toast, and seated another group.
When I got off work, Jake took me back to his place.
I felt kind of bad for making him stay with me.
"You didn't have to stay."
"And make you walk home?"
"I couldv'e hitched a ride."
"We had to work, anyways."
"Yeah, but I feel like I'm not pulling my weight."
"Yeah you are," he said, pulling into his driveway. "You wanna go over to your house and see what we can find to use, and look over the ballroom?"
"Sure," I said. I walked over and pulled a key out from behind the light.
We took off our shoes and went up to my step-mom's extra room, where we kept all of our clothes.
We looked through all the dresses.
"I don't know if any of these will work."
"I'm sure any one of them will be fine," he said.
"No... follow me!" I ran out of the room and up the next flight of stairs. I walked into the room at the end of the hall and flipped on the light. I grabbed the string on the ceiling and pulled down the stairs.
"What are we going to find up here?"
"A dress I hid a long time ago." I walked over to a stack of trunks, took the top one off, then the bottom, then slid the bottom one to the left. There was an empty rack behind them. Empty but one hanger, whose clothes were hidden by a plastic wrapper. I took it off so we could see the dress.
"Why did you hide it?"
"I'll show you." I said. Let's go downstairs first, though.
We walked down to my room and I handed him the remote. I walked to the bathroom to put it on.
I walked in the room and his jaw dropped.
"Why the hell would you want to hide that?"
It was a pretty stunning dress. I hated it. It was this tight long red dress the "accentuated" my boobs, and some other areas, and I just hated it.
It was the epitome of trophy wife.
"Alright. This dress, okay?"
"O...kay."
"I'm gonna go get dressed, you wait here. Try not to invade my privacy again." He nodded back.
We went downstairs and I opened the ballroom door. We stepped into the massive room. It was a little dark, and perfectly clean. It was spotless. There wasn't even any dust anywhere.
"This is perfect."
"I propose a problem."
"What would that be?" he asked.
"First of all, the party. We're gonna need people. People dressed courtly. And secondly, we need something to film it."
"Alright, I'll just call up my possy when we need to film it, and we can have one of them do it."
"Whatever works."
"Okay, let's go home. Er, let's go... back to my house."
We got back to his house after I locked mine up. It was about 5:30.
"Hey, I have to go up to Madison, and I shouldn't be back until, like, 11 or something. Are you gonna be alright by yourself?"
"Yeah. I'll catch you later," I said, and walked up stairs to our room. To his room. What am I saying?
Me and Jake can't be friends. I have to start hating him again.
That's stereo-typical of me, though. I mean, he's way cooler than I thought. And he has pretty good taste in music. And he has the capability to have fun. I mean... I'm gonna sleep. Maybe that'll help me come to my senses. Jake Winters? Come on.
Jake's POV
I jumped in my car for the long haul to band practice in Franklin.
All I can think about is Lexie, but I can't put any of it into a sentence without wanting to punch myself in the face.
I mean, this was gonna be like, my senior prank. Breaking Lexie Wilde. Strong, smart, talented, Lexie Wilde. Breaking up my rival group. Tearing these kids apart.
But... I don't know. It's like she's already torn apart. She seems so broken. It would be like stepping on broken glass.
But I'm not going soft or anything. It's not like I care about her. Whatever, I'm here. I need to stop thinking about her.
We played the song I wrote last practice. It's called "Tonight On The WB." [btw, this is a real song. It's by the Comas if you want to hear it]
Your windows
Are blacked out
From bad things
Like real love
You feel like
A hole in space
But...
I love it when you fall apart
You turn it into higher art
We see it in your eyes but your lips never part
You're a star
Your legs are
So skinny
You're so rich
With meaning
I know
We're all the same
Right?
We love it when you fall apart
You turn it into higher art
We see it in your eyes but your lips never part
You're a star
I know you can't say
It's been such a long day
I know it won't change
And I'm just on the way
Yeah, we love to watch you fall apart
You turn it into higher art for us
We see it in your eyes but your lips never part
You're a star
And then we played a new song. I wrote it earlier this week. I handed played guitar and sang most of the time. So I showed Ryan, our bassist, what I was playing, and Chris, our drummer, usually just has to listen.
This song is called Walk Through Hell. [also a real song by Say Anything] It's totally bipolar compared to last week's song.
And if I could swim, I'd swim out to you in the ocean,
Swim out to where you were floating in the dark.
And if I was blessed, I'd walk on the water you're breathing,
To lend you some air for that heaving, sunken chest.
'Cause they chose you as the model for their empty little dreams,
With your new head and your legs spread like a filthy magazine.
And they hunt you, and they gut you, and you give in.
And if I was brave, I'd climb up to you on the mountain,
They led you to drink from their fountain spouting lies.
And I'd slay the horrible beast they commissioned
To steer me away from my mission to your eyes.
And I'd stand there, like a soldier, with my foot upon his chest,
With my grin spread, and my arms out, in my bloodstained Sunday's best,
And you'd hold me; I'd remind you who you are under their shell.
I'd walk through hell for you, let it burn right through my shoes
These soles are useless without you
Through hell for you, let the torturing ensue;
My soul is useless without you...
And if they send a whirlwind, I'd hug it like a harmless little tree.
Or an earthquake, I'd calm it, and I'd bring you back to me.
And I'd hold you in my weak arms like a first born.
I'd walk through hell for you, let it burn right through my shoes,
These soles are useless without you
Through hell for you, let the torturing ensue;
My soul is usless without you...
Through hell for you
Through hell for you
Without you, without you...
Through hell for you.
Without you...
Through hell for you
Now I've walked through hell for you.
What's an adventurer to do,
But rest these feet at home with you?
"Wow, man. That's pretty damn good," Chris told me.
We talked about what to change with the last song, then played the rest of our songs. At about 11, we decided to call it quits and packed up
I made it home by 11:45. I crept in my closet to put my clothes in the hamper, and I found my old acoustic guitar. I tuned it up a bit, and started playing walk through hell.
It sounded better when played acoustic. The lyrics and the sound really meshed.
"That was really good." I heard a tired voice say.
I turned around. "Oh, uh," I cleared my throat, "thanks."
"I didn't know you played." Her voice was scratchy and I could see her tired expression through the dark.
"Yeah. Uh, sorry for waking you up."
"It's cool. I've been asleep since like, 6."
"Oh. Uh, are you hungry?"
"Meh, I guess I could eat."
"Alright. I'll go down stairs and make us something."
We walked down stairs. This was really complicating things. How am I supposed to be mean to her when she's being so nice to me?
And why is she being nice, now? This isn't fair. And she's soo pretty. Even when she's so... plain. She doesn't have any make up on. Her hair is messed up from sleeping. She has on blue plaid pajama pants and a white tank top. A wife beater. How can someone look so plain and so pretty at the same time?
I popped a pizza in the oven, and kept thinking about her.
She looked like she was falling asleep on the counter.
I sat down next to her. She sat up and smiled at me. I half smiled back. I suddenly felt horrible for everything I've done to her over the years.
When her parents got divorced, I wouldn't talk to her. I remember she came over to my house in tears, and I told her I was busy.
In 9th grade, I poured a slushie down her shirt in front of the whole school.
Later on that year, I told Missy she was a lesbian after her and Ben broke up the first time.
It kept getting worse.
I called the cops on Ben.
I got Ray to ask out Haylie, or whatever her name is.
I felt horrible.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing. I'm just tired. Wanna watch a movie?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll go see what's on TV."
I sat right there, waiting for the pizza, thinking more about Lexie, when I realized, I wrote those songs about her.
I... I think I like her...
"Yeah, I'll take a Dr. Pepper and she will have water with no ice."
"Alright. I'll be right back with that." I said.
"How about you, stalker?" I asked at the next table.
"Uh, I'll have a grilled cheese." Jake said.
"Alright. I'll bring you another Sprite."
Sunday Sunday Sunday. Late morning rush killed us. Around 11, people just start piling in. I think it's because Sam figured out his awesome hangover cure. And we get the coffee shop crowd because we play mellow music from underground artists.
I took the couple their drinks and brought Jake another Sprite. "Your grilled cheese will be here in a minute."
"Alright, thanks." he said. He was working on our project. I think.
I brought out his sandwich and sat down across from him.
I looked over the script. Pretty solid stuff. "I like it."
"Anything you want to change?"
"The... first half of the second page, I'm going to edit. And a couple of other lines. It's funny, though."
"Cool. Costumes?"
"Well, I was thinking, since we decided it will take place at a party, I'll wear a nice dress. I've got a ton I don't mind if they get ruined. You can wear a tux. If you don't have one, I'm sure we've got one lying around somewhere."
"I've got one."
"Alright."
My teacher was so content with this project, she decided that every week while we do this, she'll add on. This week, we were told we'd be getting a test grade on the costumes.
Last week she told us the script will be our final exam, and that the video will count as another test grade.
"Alright. Keep working, I have to go back to work."
"Why do you do that?"
"Excuse me?"
"Work. Your dad has money."
"Because it better prepares me for the real world. Who do you think is more content with their lives, kids whose wealth is handed down, who will have to endure the scandal of having money and uncertainty of dealing with money, or the person who really earns it?"
"I guess you're right." he said.
I know I'm right.
I took the couple their eggs and hash browns, with a side of buttered toast, and seated another group.
When I got off work, Jake took me back to his place.
I felt kind of bad for making him stay with me.
"You didn't have to stay."
"And make you walk home?"
"I couldv'e hitched a ride."
"We had to work, anyways."
"Yeah, but I feel like I'm not pulling my weight."
"Yeah you are," he said, pulling into his driveway. "You wanna go over to your house and see what we can find to use, and look over the ballroom?"
"Sure," I said. I walked over and pulled a key out from behind the light.
We took off our shoes and went up to my step-mom's extra room, where we kept all of our clothes.
We looked through all the dresses.
"I don't know if any of these will work."
"I'm sure any one of them will be fine," he said.
"No... follow me!" I ran out of the room and up the next flight of stairs. I walked into the room at the end of the hall and flipped on the light. I grabbed the string on the ceiling and pulled down the stairs.
"What are we going to find up here?"
"A dress I hid a long time ago." I walked over to a stack of trunks, took the top one off, then the bottom, then slid the bottom one to the left. There was an empty rack behind them. Empty but one hanger, whose clothes were hidden by a plastic wrapper. I took it off so we could see the dress.
"Why did you hide it?"
"I'll show you." I said. Let's go downstairs first, though.
We walked down to my room and I handed him the remote. I walked to the bathroom to put it on.
I walked in the room and his jaw dropped.
"Why the hell would you want to hide that?"
It was a pretty stunning dress. I hated it. It was this tight long red dress the "accentuated" my boobs, and some other areas, and I just hated it.
It was the epitome of trophy wife.
"Alright. This dress, okay?"
"O...kay."
"I'm gonna go get dressed, you wait here. Try not to invade my privacy again." He nodded back.
We went downstairs and I opened the ballroom door. We stepped into the massive room. It was a little dark, and perfectly clean. It was spotless. There wasn't even any dust anywhere.
"This is perfect."
"I propose a problem."
"What would that be?" he asked.
"First of all, the party. We're gonna need people. People dressed courtly. And secondly, we need something to film it."
"Alright, I'll just call up my possy when we need to film it, and we can have one of them do it."
"Whatever works."
"Okay, let's go home. Er, let's go... back to my house."
We got back to his house after I locked mine up. It was about 5:30.
"Hey, I have to go up to Madison, and I shouldn't be back until, like, 11 or something. Are you gonna be alright by yourself?"
"Yeah. I'll catch you later," I said, and walked up stairs to our room. To his room. What am I saying?
Me and Jake can't be friends. I have to start hating him again.
That's stereo-typical of me, though. I mean, he's way cooler than I thought. And he has pretty good taste in music. And he has the capability to have fun. I mean... I'm gonna sleep. Maybe that'll help me come to my senses. Jake Winters? Come on.
Jake's POV
I jumped in my car for the long haul to band practice in Franklin.
All I can think about is Lexie, but I can't put any of it into a sentence without wanting to punch myself in the face.
I mean, this was gonna be like, my senior prank. Breaking Lexie Wilde. Strong, smart, talented, Lexie Wilde. Breaking up my rival group. Tearing these kids apart.
But... I don't know. It's like she's already torn apart. She seems so broken. It would be like stepping on broken glass.
But I'm not going soft or anything. It's not like I care about her. Whatever, I'm here. I need to stop thinking about her.
We played the song I wrote last practice. It's called "Tonight On The WB." [btw, this is a real song. It's by the Comas if you want to hear it]
Your windows
Are blacked out
From bad things
Like real love
You feel like
A hole in space
But...
I love it when you fall apart
You turn it into higher art
We see it in your eyes but your lips never part
You're a star
Your legs are
So skinny
You're so rich
With meaning
I know
We're all the same
Right?
We love it when you fall apart
You turn it into higher art
We see it in your eyes but your lips never part
You're a star
I know you can't say
It's been such a long day
I know it won't change
And I'm just on the way
Yeah, we love to watch you fall apart
You turn it into higher art for us
We see it in your eyes but your lips never part
You're a star
And then we played a new song. I wrote it earlier this week. I handed played guitar and sang most of the time. So I showed Ryan, our bassist, what I was playing, and Chris, our drummer, usually just has to listen.
This song is called Walk Through Hell. [also a real song by Say Anything] It's totally bipolar compared to last week's song.
And if I could swim, I'd swim out to you in the ocean,
Swim out to where you were floating in the dark.
And if I was blessed, I'd walk on the water you're breathing,
To lend you some air for that heaving, sunken chest.
'Cause they chose you as the model for their empty little dreams,
With your new head and your legs spread like a filthy magazine.
And they hunt you, and they gut you, and you give in.
And if I was brave, I'd climb up to you on the mountain,
They led you to drink from their fountain spouting lies.
And I'd slay the horrible beast they commissioned
To steer me away from my mission to your eyes.
And I'd stand there, like a soldier, with my foot upon his chest,
With my grin spread, and my arms out, in my bloodstained Sunday's best,
And you'd hold me; I'd remind you who you are under their shell.
I'd walk through hell for you, let it burn right through my shoes
These soles are useless without you
Through hell for you, let the torturing ensue;
My soul is useless without you...
And if they send a whirlwind, I'd hug it like a harmless little tree.
Or an earthquake, I'd calm it, and I'd bring you back to me.
And I'd hold you in my weak arms like a first born.
I'd walk through hell for you, let it burn right through my shoes,
These soles are useless without you
Through hell for you, let the torturing ensue;
My soul is usless without you...
Through hell for you
Through hell for you
Without you, without you...
Through hell for you.
Without you...
Through hell for you
Now I've walked through hell for you.
What's an adventurer to do,
But rest these feet at home with you?
"Wow, man. That's pretty damn good," Chris told me.
We talked about what to change with the last song, then played the rest of our songs. At about 11, we decided to call it quits and packed up
I made it home by 11:45. I crept in my closet to put my clothes in the hamper, and I found my old acoustic guitar. I tuned it up a bit, and started playing walk through hell.
It sounded better when played acoustic. The lyrics and the sound really meshed.
"That was really good." I heard a tired voice say.
I turned around. "Oh, uh," I cleared my throat, "thanks."
"I didn't know you played." Her voice was scratchy and I could see her tired expression through the dark.
"Yeah. Uh, sorry for waking you up."
"It's cool. I've been asleep since like, 6."
"Oh. Uh, are you hungry?"
"Meh, I guess I could eat."
"Alright. I'll go down stairs and make us something."
We walked down stairs. This was really complicating things. How am I supposed to be mean to her when she's being so nice to me?
And why is she being nice, now? This isn't fair. And she's soo pretty. Even when she's so... plain. She doesn't have any make up on. Her hair is messed up from sleeping. She has on blue plaid pajama pants and a white tank top. A wife beater. How can someone look so plain and so pretty at the same time?
I popped a pizza in the oven, and kept thinking about her.
She looked like she was falling asleep on the counter.
I sat down next to her. She sat up and smiled at me. I half smiled back. I suddenly felt horrible for everything I've done to her over the years.
When her parents got divorced, I wouldn't talk to her. I remember she came over to my house in tears, and I told her I was busy.
In 9th grade, I poured a slushie down her shirt in front of the whole school.
Later on that year, I told Missy she was a lesbian after her and Ben broke up the first time.
It kept getting worse.
I called the cops on Ben.
I got Ray to ask out Haylie, or whatever her name is.
I felt horrible.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing. I'm just tired. Wanna watch a movie?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll go see what's on TV."
I sat right there, waiting for the pizza, thinking more about Lexie, when I realized, I wrote those songs about her.
I... I think I like her...