Skinny Jeans Have No Place On These Thighs
After The Show
Recap
"Have you ever tried to find him?"
I swallow. It's the most I've ever had to say about it. Even Izzie and Bridget haven't asked as much as this!
"No," I lied.
"What, seriously?" Marcus says, shocked. "But he's your father! Why didn't you ever try and find him?"
"Oh for God's sake," I suddenly snap. "He's not really on the missing person's list, OK?!"
"Then why did you - "
"Because he's on the 'most wanted' list. That clear now? Answer all your questions?"
It really doesn't.
_
Marcus looks at me with his eyes wide so I can see the whites of his eyes.
"Your dad is . . . is he a criminal?"
"Not exactly," I say slowly, wondering why I'm even telling him.
"What did they get him for?"
"Nothing! They haven't caught him, remember? I don't really want to talk about it."
"Come on!"
"No, I haven't told anyone this. I'm going back inside."
I hurry back in before he can ask anything else, kicking myself for letting it slip out. Why had I told him that? Why?! What if he told someone? I didn't know if I could even trust him.
I went to find Izzie and Bridet. Izzie had finally found Citizen Deranged who must have come in while I'd been outside leaking secrets and watching Marcus smoking. She was standing by the fruit machine, watching as one of them slotted in coins and fiddling with the controls and doing her sexy look, hair flicked back, mouth pouting like a fish. She looks good but I'm not sure if the guy is all that into her. He seems more into the fruit machine. Maybe he's gay?
Playing on the fruit machine would be quite apt.
I look for Bridget and find her talking to a couple of girls by the bar. I envy Bridget so much sometimes it chokes me. She's just so calm and confident in herself, standing totally at ease with complete strangers, swapping banter and stories and the occasional bit of gossip. I suppose it's because she's used to having her older brother's friends around at her house. She's quite in her element right now.
I go and stand next to her at the side of the circle, hoping that she'll notice I'm there. She does; Bridget isn't like Izzie.
"Ella, there you are!" Bridget says, looking slightly relieved. I smile gratefully. I know I arrived right when she was in the middle of telling her funny joke about the Irish man and the blacksmith but Bridget wouldn't care about that kind of thing.
"Where have you been?" She asks, after smiling a 'back in a second' smile to the ensemble of people. "I was getting worried. Have you been outside with Marcus all this time?"
"Yep, sort of." I mumble, my face going a little red.
Really?" Bridget raises her eyebrows and grins in surprise. "I hope you were behaving yourselves," she says, giving me a nudge.
"Yeah," I say, nudging her back. "He seems ... he's quite nosey!"
"Oh yeah," Bridget says knowingly. "Don't tell him any secrets. Can't keep them to save his life. I once told him that I'd accidentally scratched one of Seb's Metallica cds, the next thing I know Seb has marched into my room and having the mother of all go's at me - Ella, are you all right?" She asks suddenly. "You look like you're going to be sick, you've gone really grey."
I shook my head jerkily and said quickly, "No, I'm fine. Just need some fresh air."
"Well, wait a second, I'll come outside with you," says Bridget, going to pick her jacket up.
"No, I'd rather be by myself," I try to insist but Bridget is having none of it.
"If you're not feeling too good, I can always get Seb to drive us home. I'm sure he wouldn't mind - in fact, I think he's ready to get out of here," Bridget says, pointing over to her brother who is standing by the stage straight faced while a girl is trying to nibble on his ear.
"But what about Izzie?"
We both look over and see Izzie has been gradually knocked out of the way by a large number of other girls - older, glossier and more glamourous than Izzie - all fawning over Citizen Deranged. Sadly none of the band seem to be giving her a second glance now and she is looking rather upset.
"Think it might be better if we get her out of here too," says Bridget wisely. "Sometimes it's not a good idea to meet your heroes. Especially when they're so unworthy of her attention," she adds, rolling her eyes at the band.
Privately I wasn't sure if Bridget was right. Izzie was so fickle when it came to liking bands. The obsession with Citizen Deranged probably wouldn't have lasted more than a couple more weeks anyway. A person couldn't become one of your heroes after so short a time, could they?
So Bridget and I go over and manage to bundle Izzie out of the door before she bursts into tears and I stand with her by Seb's car while Bridget goes in to beg him to take us home.
"It was so embarrassing!" Izzie begins to howl into her hands. "They wouldn't even talk to me properly! They just kept nodding at everything I said. At first I thought it was going really well. That maybe they liked me. But then another girl came over with her friends, and I just got pushed out. I was just another girl. No, worse, I was just another fan!"
I pat her shoulder sympathetically, feeling bad. Although I'm feeling good at the same time. It's awful but I'm almost glad she got shot down. I love Izzie, she's my oldest friend but I can't deny that it's oddly satisfying to find her crying like this. She's so arrogant about her looks sometimes. Perhaps it'll teach her not to be so brazen about herself.
"And the worst thing is," Izzie snuffles, holding my hand too tightly, "I let myself become like that. I let myself be all dumb in front of them and I didn't say any of the things I wanted to say! Well, I told them I like their music and I told them how it moves me and stuff but I didn't talk about anything else! No wonder they thought I was just another stupid girl - they must get people like me saying stuff like that all the time."
I blink, surprised at how self-aware she suddenly is. Izzie usually just goes on about how fabulous she is but she never, ever starts talking like this. It's almost unnerving.
At that moment, Bridget returns with Seb still trying to prise the girl off his arm and, to my horror, Marcus. He's lit up another cigarette and isn't taking much notice of me at all. He seems to find Seb's current situation rather hilarious although he's doing a good job of stifling his giggles. Bridget, clearly irritated by how long Seb is taking, sticks her hand in his jacket pocket and fishes out of the keys. She clicks the locks off and then pulls the seat forward so Izzie and I can slide in. As we go through, I notice Bridget press a tissue into Izzie's hand which Izzie gratefully accepts.
Bridget stands back, looking expectantly at Marcus.
"You're having a laugh, Bridge, I'm not sitting in the back," says Marcus, shaking his head at her looking bemused.
"Just because you're older doesn't give you the right to the front seat!" Bridget retorts rather primly. "I'm sitting in the front!"
"Well who do you think Seb would rather sit next to, you or me?" Marcus grins. "Now get in the back with your little girlie mates and shut up!"
"Yeah, shut up Bridget and get in the back!" Seb snaps, snatching the keys out of her hand, finally having freed himself from the girl.
Bridget looks like she's going to argue but then lets out an aggravated squeal and climbs into the back, folding her arms and looking rather annoyed. Marcus gets in and pushes his seat all the way back to further annoy Bridget. But when she starts complaining very loudly, Seb shouts that everyone will be walking home if they don't all shut up and so we all keep quiet. I mean, Izzie continues to sniffle occasionally and Bridget isn't speaking and Marcus turns the radio up fairly loudly which is immediately turned down by Seb.
For a musician, Seb certainly doesn't seem into the rock and roll scene. He didn't seem at all interested in any of the girls there tonight, he wasn't smoking anything (unlike Marcus who according to an angry hiss from Bridget, was smoking marijuana in the front seat) and he didn't want the radio on. Mind you, he did have ear ache.
I don't really want to go back to Bridget's now that I know Marcus will be there because he'll be asking me more questions. The thought of him telling people about my dad is making me feel queasy. But I can hardly ask Seb, who is already in a filthy mood, to go out of his way to drop me home. So I sit in silence in the back and hope that when we get in, we can just go straight to bed.
I have a feeling that it might not quite work out like that though.
"Have you ever tried to find him?"
I swallow. It's the most I've ever had to say about it. Even Izzie and Bridget haven't asked as much as this!
"No," I lied.
"What, seriously?" Marcus says, shocked. "But he's your father! Why didn't you ever try and find him?"
"Oh for God's sake," I suddenly snap. "He's not really on the missing person's list, OK?!"
"Then why did you - "
"Because he's on the 'most wanted' list. That clear now? Answer all your questions?"
It really doesn't.
_
Marcus looks at me with his eyes wide so I can see the whites of his eyes.
"Your dad is . . . is he a criminal?"
"Not exactly," I say slowly, wondering why I'm even telling him.
"What did they get him for?"
"Nothing! They haven't caught him, remember? I don't really want to talk about it."
"Come on!"
"No, I haven't told anyone this. I'm going back inside."
I hurry back in before he can ask anything else, kicking myself for letting it slip out. Why had I told him that? Why?! What if he told someone? I didn't know if I could even trust him.
I went to find Izzie and Bridet. Izzie had finally found Citizen Deranged who must have come in while I'd been outside leaking secrets and watching Marcus smoking. She was standing by the fruit machine, watching as one of them slotted in coins and fiddling with the controls and doing her sexy look, hair flicked back, mouth pouting like a fish. She looks good but I'm not sure if the guy is all that into her. He seems more into the fruit machine. Maybe he's gay?
Playing on the fruit machine would be quite apt.
I look for Bridget and find her talking to a couple of girls by the bar. I envy Bridget so much sometimes it chokes me. She's just so calm and confident in herself, standing totally at ease with complete strangers, swapping banter and stories and the occasional bit of gossip. I suppose it's because she's used to having her older brother's friends around at her house. She's quite in her element right now.
I go and stand next to her at the side of the circle, hoping that she'll notice I'm there. She does; Bridget isn't like Izzie.
"Ella, there you are!" Bridget says, looking slightly relieved. I smile gratefully. I know I arrived right when she was in the middle of telling her funny joke about the Irish man and the blacksmith but Bridget wouldn't care about that kind of thing.
"Where have you been?" She asks, after smiling a 'back in a second' smile to the ensemble of people. "I was getting worried. Have you been outside with Marcus all this time?"
"Yep, sort of." I mumble, my face going a little red.
Really?" Bridget raises her eyebrows and grins in surprise. "I hope you were behaving yourselves," she says, giving me a nudge.
"Yeah," I say, nudging her back. "He seems ... he's quite nosey!"
"Oh yeah," Bridget says knowingly. "Don't tell him any secrets. Can't keep them to save his life. I once told him that I'd accidentally scratched one of Seb's Metallica cds, the next thing I know Seb has marched into my room and having the mother of all go's at me - Ella, are you all right?" She asks suddenly. "You look like you're going to be sick, you've gone really grey."
I shook my head jerkily and said quickly, "No, I'm fine. Just need some fresh air."
"Well, wait a second, I'll come outside with you," says Bridget, going to pick her jacket up.
"No, I'd rather be by myself," I try to insist but Bridget is having none of it.
"If you're not feeling too good, I can always get Seb to drive us home. I'm sure he wouldn't mind - in fact, I think he's ready to get out of here," Bridget says, pointing over to her brother who is standing by the stage straight faced while a girl is trying to nibble on his ear.
"But what about Izzie?"
We both look over and see Izzie has been gradually knocked out of the way by a large number of other girls - older, glossier and more glamourous than Izzie - all fawning over Citizen Deranged. Sadly none of the band seem to be giving her a second glance now and she is looking rather upset.
"Think it might be better if we get her out of here too," says Bridget wisely. "Sometimes it's not a good idea to meet your heroes. Especially when they're so unworthy of her attention," she adds, rolling her eyes at the band.
Privately I wasn't sure if Bridget was right. Izzie was so fickle when it came to liking bands. The obsession with Citizen Deranged probably wouldn't have lasted more than a couple more weeks anyway. A person couldn't become one of your heroes after so short a time, could they?
So Bridget and I go over and manage to bundle Izzie out of the door before she bursts into tears and I stand with her by Seb's car while Bridget goes in to beg him to take us home.
"It was so embarrassing!" Izzie begins to howl into her hands. "They wouldn't even talk to me properly! They just kept nodding at everything I said. At first I thought it was going really well. That maybe they liked me. But then another girl came over with her friends, and I just got pushed out. I was just another girl. No, worse, I was just another fan!"
I pat her shoulder sympathetically, feeling bad. Although I'm feeling good at the same time. It's awful but I'm almost glad she got shot down. I love Izzie, she's my oldest friend but I can't deny that it's oddly satisfying to find her crying like this. She's so arrogant about her looks sometimes. Perhaps it'll teach her not to be so brazen about herself.
"And the worst thing is," Izzie snuffles, holding my hand too tightly, "I let myself become like that. I let myself be all dumb in front of them and I didn't say any of the things I wanted to say! Well, I told them I like their music and I told them how it moves me and stuff but I didn't talk about anything else! No wonder they thought I was just another stupid girl - they must get people like me saying stuff like that all the time."
I blink, surprised at how self-aware she suddenly is. Izzie usually just goes on about how fabulous she is but she never, ever starts talking like this. It's almost unnerving.
At that moment, Bridget returns with Seb still trying to prise the girl off his arm and, to my horror, Marcus. He's lit up another cigarette and isn't taking much notice of me at all. He seems to find Seb's current situation rather hilarious although he's doing a good job of stifling his giggles. Bridget, clearly irritated by how long Seb is taking, sticks her hand in his jacket pocket and fishes out of the keys. She clicks the locks off and then pulls the seat forward so Izzie and I can slide in. As we go through, I notice Bridget press a tissue into Izzie's hand which Izzie gratefully accepts.
Bridget stands back, looking expectantly at Marcus.
"You're having a laugh, Bridge, I'm not sitting in the back," says Marcus, shaking his head at her looking bemused.
"Just because you're older doesn't give you the right to the front seat!" Bridget retorts rather primly. "I'm sitting in the front!"
"Well who do you think Seb would rather sit next to, you or me?" Marcus grins. "Now get in the back with your little girlie mates and shut up!"
"Yeah, shut up Bridget and get in the back!" Seb snaps, snatching the keys out of her hand, finally having freed himself from the girl.
Bridget looks like she's going to argue but then lets out an aggravated squeal and climbs into the back, folding her arms and looking rather annoyed. Marcus gets in and pushes his seat all the way back to further annoy Bridget. But when she starts complaining very loudly, Seb shouts that everyone will be walking home if they don't all shut up and so we all keep quiet. I mean, Izzie continues to sniffle occasionally and Bridget isn't speaking and Marcus turns the radio up fairly loudly which is immediately turned down by Seb.
For a musician, Seb certainly doesn't seem into the rock and roll scene. He didn't seem at all interested in any of the girls there tonight, he wasn't smoking anything (unlike Marcus who according to an angry hiss from Bridget, was smoking marijuana in the front seat) and he didn't want the radio on. Mind you, he did have ear ache.
I don't really want to go back to Bridget's now that I know Marcus will be there because he'll be asking me more questions. The thought of him telling people about my dad is making me feel queasy. But I can hardly ask Seb, who is already in a filthy mood, to go out of his way to drop me home. So I sit in silence in the back and hope that when we get in, we can just go straight to bed.
I have a feeling that it might not quite work out like that though.