Sequel: Cancer ›
Vegas Boys
Chapter 7
"So this is our last week together," said Dad quietly over a bowl of Raisin Bran Saturday morning.
"Mmhmm," I mumbled with my mouth full, trying to disguise the joy I felt at the thought for his sake. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I was going crazy with excitement for the upcoming Saturday, when Mom and Chris were coming to take me back to New York with them at last. I'd only have two more weeks before school started again, but I wasn't dreading it as much as usual--it couldn't possibly be as torturous as my summer in Vegas had been, and I'd survived that, hadn't I?
Dad's wide jaw twitched rhythmically as he chewed, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Summer went by pretty quick, huh?"
Yeah, right, I thought to myself with bitter sarcasm, but agreed, "Yeah"--again, for his sake.
"I'm gonna miss you kiddo," said Dad softly. He reached across the table to put an enormous hand on my shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. His lips spread and tightened in a bittersweet smile that nonetheless radiated affection.
I felt myself blushing as he dropped his hand, not with embarrassment, but with some deep emotion I'd never felt for him before. Maybe love.
The truth is, he had never really shown his true feelings before that moment. And even then, it was only the slightest display of affection.
But it didn't matter. As long as he made an effort to let me know he loved me, it didn't matter how convincing he was. It was more than I could say for Mom.
I started crying and Dad patted me briskly on the back, telling me something about visiting him in a few months. I just let him try and comfort me--he didn't need to know that I was crying over something else entirely.
-----
"What's that noise?" complained Dad later that day, shaking out the newspaper he was reading and looking around towards the source of the raucous music with an irritated expression. I repressed a snicker as I thought to myself that he reminded me starkly of a ruffled chicken.
"Brendon Urie's band," I replied off-handedly as I shoved the cards I'd only just laid out for Solitaire into a neat stack again, sliding them back into their narrow box.
"Humph," grunted Dad in aggravation, returning to his paper resentfully. I couldn't really tell what he said next, but it sounded something like, "Oughta control that boy."
Smirking slightly to myself, I got to my feet, dropping the cards on the coffee table. "I'm gonna go outside and check the mail, okay?"
"I just got the mail this morning," said Dad, but I was already on my way out the door.
Of course, there was no mail in the mailbox, but I used my time outside to get a look inside Brendon's garage. They were finishing up a song just as I started walking back towards the house, and two girls and three guys who were just lounging around watching clapped appreciatively. I slowed down, watching them intently.
Brendon apparently played the guitar, and now he set down his instrument of choice, beaming, as he made his way over to the people watching the band play. One of the girls stood up as he came over and put one hand on her hip and the other on his arm flirtatiously. Her back was turned to me, so I couldn't see her expression, but Brendon was grinning at her; he said something I couldn't quite make out and she laughed girlishly, with too much enthusiasm.
The other guys in the band joined the little group and they stood around talking and laughing for a few minutes. I had completely forgotten about my whole getting-the-mail pretense--I was rooted to the spot, right there in the middle of the walk leading up to my front door, staring.
For a moment, I imagined that I was one of them, just hanging out at the Urie place on a nice summer day, enjoying the time away from school, having fun with my friends and watching them pretend to be rock stars. I imagined that I was that girl, with my hips stuck out in a jauntily seductive pose and my hand on Brendon's arm. I imagined what his bare arm would feel like under the palm of my hand--warm and sticky with sweat, probably, slightly muscled. I imagined what it would feel like to smile at him like she was undoubtedly smiling at him, for him to smile back...
Stop it, Kelsey, I scolded myself sharply, suddenly tearing myself away from my day-dreams. You're being pathetic.
I hurried back inside and was thankful, as I made my way past the living room upstairs, that my father was too quiet and too engulfed in his own matters to point out how long it had taken me to go get non-existent mail. I locked myself in my room and shut all my windows, turning the stereo in my room up loud enough that I could barely hear the band next door, and only if I strained.
Sighing, I threw myself down on my bed and began the long process of convincing myself that there was no reason for me to have those ridiculous fantasies--that I didn't want to be Brendon's friend...or anything else.
-----
Monday came and I was laying on my back again on the couch in the living room, listening to Brendon's band playing next door. I sang along to myself in the silence; it was one of their own songs, but I'd learned all the words by heart by now.
I was thinking about Mom. I wondered if she was having a good time with Chris--if she was dreading taking me back home with them again. If she would rather I just stayed here in Vegas, miserable and alone, forever.
I hated that I was intruding on her life like this, but there was only so much I could do for her. I'd endured a whole summer of this loneliness and boredom for her--that was as much as you could ask of anyone, I thought. I doubted that she'd do the same for me.
At least you'll be out of here soon, I reminded myself. Even if Mom's not happy to see you, at least shes familiar...and you can start over in another city thats a little less like hell on earth.
Then suddenly the music came back to my attention and I wondered briefly if this was the last time I would ever hear Brendon's band play. It made me sad to think about it. Despite everything, I knew I would miss it.
And even though I didn't really know him, and even though we hadn't really hit it off that well when I did actually talk to him, I knew, in my heart of hearts, that I would miss Brendon, too.
-----
Wednesday night I was so excited that I had already killed an hour making a list of all the things I was going to do as soon as I got out of here, and back to my new home. I absolutely could not wait. I was worse than a child the night before Christmas.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, just staring at my calendar on the wall: the two solid rows of red X's on the August page sent a thrill of excitement through me. There, three days away, the block devoted to Saturday was circled boldly and filled up with lots of little smiley faces and hearts. I'd been waiting for this day for a long time.
I jumped a little as a soft knock at my bedroom door jolted me out of my thoughts.
"Kelsey?" said Dad uncertainly as he stuck his head in through the door. I was in such high spirits that I didn't notice his grim expression at all. "Um, your...your mom's on the phone."
"Oh, okay," I said brightly, jumping up and taking the wireless receiver from him. "Mom?"
"Hi, honey," Mom sighed. She didn't sound happy at all.
"Hey."
"So, um...how's your summer been?" There was an anxious hesitation in her voice she couldn't disguise, but even this didn't really register with me.
"Okay, I guess," I lied. "I'm excited to see you."
"Well...see, that's the thing..." Mom paused, and I just waited patiently for her to continue. "Honey...there's been a slight change of plans."
"Change of plans?" I repeated blankly when she didn't go on.
"Well...how do you feel about staying with your father?"
"Like I said, it was okay." I couldn't see what she was getting at. "But I'm ready to--"
"No, honey," interrupted Mom hesitantly. "I mean, how do you feel about staying with him for a little while longer?"
"Longer?" I felt hysteria beginning to bubble up inside of me, but somehow I was sure this was all just a joke or something. "How long? Like, a week?"
"No, honey," said Mom, too sweetly. "Kels...I need you to stay there in Vegas with Daddy for a couple more months, okay? Daddy said he'd make arrangements to get you into school there."
...A couple more months.
This could not be happening.
"Mmhmm," I mumbled with my mouth full, trying to disguise the joy I felt at the thought for his sake. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I was going crazy with excitement for the upcoming Saturday, when Mom and Chris were coming to take me back to New York with them at last. I'd only have two more weeks before school started again, but I wasn't dreading it as much as usual--it couldn't possibly be as torturous as my summer in Vegas had been, and I'd survived that, hadn't I?
Dad's wide jaw twitched rhythmically as he chewed, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Summer went by pretty quick, huh?"
Yeah, right, I thought to myself with bitter sarcasm, but agreed, "Yeah"--again, for his sake.
"I'm gonna miss you kiddo," said Dad softly. He reached across the table to put an enormous hand on my shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. His lips spread and tightened in a bittersweet smile that nonetheless radiated affection.
I felt myself blushing as he dropped his hand, not with embarrassment, but with some deep emotion I'd never felt for him before. Maybe love.
The truth is, he had never really shown his true feelings before that moment. And even then, it was only the slightest display of affection.
But it didn't matter. As long as he made an effort to let me know he loved me, it didn't matter how convincing he was. It was more than I could say for Mom.
I started crying and Dad patted me briskly on the back, telling me something about visiting him in a few months. I just let him try and comfort me--he didn't need to know that I was crying over something else entirely.
-----
"What's that noise?" complained Dad later that day, shaking out the newspaper he was reading and looking around towards the source of the raucous music with an irritated expression. I repressed a snicker as I thought to myself that he reminded me starkly of a ruffled chicken.
"Brendon Urie's band," I replied off-handedly as I shoved the cards I'd only just laid out for Solitaire into a neat stack again, sliding them back into their narrow box.
"Humph," grunted Dad in aggravation, returning to his paper resentfully. I couldn't really tell what he said next, but it sounded something like, "Oughta control that boy."
Smirking slightly to myself, I got to my feet, dropping the cards on the coffee table. "I'm gonna go outside and check the mail, okay?"
"I just got the mail this morning," said Dad, but I was already on my way out the door.
Of course, there was no mail in the mailbox, but I used my time outside to get a look inside Brendon's garage. They were finishing up a song just as I started walking back towards the house, and two girls and three guys who were just lounging around watching clapped appreciatively. I slowed down, watching them intently.
Brendon apparently played the guitar, and now he set down his instrument of choice, beaming, as he made his way over to the people watching the band play. One of the girls stood up as he came over and put one hand on her hip and the other on his arm flirtatiously. Her back was turned to me, so I couldn't see her expression, but Brendon was grinning at her; he said something I couldn't quite make out and she laughed girlishly, with too much enthusiasm.
The other guys in the band joined the little group and they stood around talking and laughing for a few minutes. I had completely forgotten about my whole getting-the-mail pretense--I was rooted to the spot, right there in the middle of the walk leading up to my front door, staring.
For a moment, I imagined that I was one of them, just hanging out at the Urie place on a nice summer day, enjoying the time away from school, having fun with my friends and watching them pretend to be rock stars. I imagined that I was that girl, with my hips stuck out in a jauntily seductive pose and my hand on Brendon's arm. I imagined what his bare arm would feel like under the palm of my hand--warm and sticky with sweat, probably, slightly muscled. I imagined what it would feel like to smile at him like she was undoubtedly smiling at him, for him to smile back...
Stop it, Kelsey, I scolded myself sharply, suddenly tearing myself away from my day-dreams. You're being pathetic.
I hurried back inside and was thankful, as I made my way past the living room upstairs, that my father was too quiet and too engulfed in his own matters to point out how long it had taken me to go get non-existent mail. I locked myself in my room and shut all my windows, turning the stereo in my room up loud enough that I could barely hear the band next door, and only if I strained.
Sighing, I threw myself down on my bed and began the long process of convincing myself that there was no reason for me to have those ridiculous fantasies--that I didn't want to be Brendon's friend...or anything else.
-----
Monday came and I was laying on my back again on the couch in the living room, listening to Brendon's band playing next door. I sang along to myself in the silence; it was one of their own songs, but I'd learned all the words by heart by now.
I was thinking about Mom. I wondered if she was having a good time with Chris--if she was dreading taking me back home with them again. If she would rather I just stayed here in Vegas, miserable and alone, forever.
I hated that I was intruding on her life like this, but there was only so much I could do for her. I'd endured a whole summer of this loneliness and boredom for her--that was as much as you could ask of anyone, I thought. I doubted that she'd do the same for me.
At least you'll be out of here soon, I reminded myself. Even if Mom's not happy to see you, at least shes familiar...and you can start over in another city thats a little less like hell on earth.
Then suddenly the music came back to my attention and I wondered briefly if this was the last time I would ever hear Brendon's band play. It made me sad to think about it. Despite everything, I knew I would miss it.
And even though I didn't really know him, and even though we hadn't really hit it off that well when I did actually talk to him, I knew, in my heart of hearts, that I would miss Brendon, too.
-----
Wednesday night I was so excited that I had already killed an hour making a list of all the things I was going to do as soon as I got out of here, and back to my new home. I absolutely could not wait. I was worse than a child the night before Christmas.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, just staring at my calendar on the wall: the two solid rows of red X's on the August page sent a thrill of excitement through me. There, three days away, the block devoted to Saturday was circled boldly and filled up with lots of little smiley faces and hearts. I'd been waiting for this day for a long time.
I jumped a little as a soft knock at my bedroom door jolted me out of my thoughts.
"Kelsey?" said Dad uncertainly as he stuck his head in through the door. I was in such high spirits that I didn't notice his grim expression at all. "Um, your...your mom's on the phone."
"Oh, okay," I said brightly, jumping up and taking the wireless receiver from him. "Mom?"
"Hi, honey," Mom sighed. She didn't sound happy at all.
"Hey."
"So, um...how's your summer been?" There was an anxious hesitation in her voice she couldn't disguise, but even this didn't really register with me.
"Okay, I guess," I lied. "I'm excited to see you."
"Well...see, that's the thing..." Mom paused, and I just waited patiently for her to continue. "Honey...there's been a slight change of plans."
"Change of plans?" I repeated blankly when she didn't go on.
"Well...how do you feel about staying with your father?"
"Like I said, it was okay." I couldn't see what she was getting at. "But I'm ready to--"
"No, honey," interrupted Mom hesitantly. "I mean, how do you feel about staying with him for a little while longer?"
"Longer?" I felt hysteria beginning to bubble up inside of me, but somehow I was sure this was all just a joke or something. "How long? Like, a week?"
"No, honey," said Mom, too sweetly. "Kels...I need you to stay there in Vegas with Daddy for a couple more months, okay? Daddy said he'd make arrangements to get you into school there."
...A couple more months.
This could not be happening.