Messed Up Youthful Innocence

(Katie's point of view)

I twirled around on dad’s drum stool stretching for a second before I went back to work for Kayla. Everyone in our family had musical talent. Drew and I could obviously play drums; if we couldn’t I think dad might have disowned us. I was pretty good at drums but I have an acoustic and a Gibson SG in my bedroom. The Wentzes are just as musically inclined as us. Kayla had been writing a lot since Christmas break, I’m not sure why. She had come over and recruited me into drumming for her. Dad didn’t mind if I played on his set as long as I didn’t break any drumheads, we go through a lot of sticks though. So after a quick rearrangement of dad’s drum set, Kayla and I were ready to go. She played me the entire song that she had wrote acoustic first. I then figured out a soft beat to it.

"Way to see me for what I am. I’m not what you think. i wanna be seen. I wanna be heard. by
you" she sang quietly.

I stopped drumming.

“Kayla?”

“What?” she asked snapping out of her trance.

“What was that? What were you singing?”

“That? Nothing, temporary lyrics.” Kayla trailed off.

“Are you okay? Lately… you’ve been off, and when you’re depressed you write.”

“So do you.”

“Your point?” I asked

“You haven’t been the same either.” She replied snottily

“Yes I have.”

“No, you’ve been writing too and just acting weird whenever Petey is in the room”

She’s half right.

“No I haven’t’”

“Oh my god, do you have a thing for Petey.”

Words cannot describe how wrong and gross that is.

“No, ew… just no” I shuddered with that statement

“Then who”

“No one.”

“Liar”

“Kay”

“Katie”

I glared at as she went back to tuning my SG so she could play.

Drew walked through the open door into the studio. Kayla’s hand slipped on the guitar
strings with the amp on. Drew and I looked over at her as she blushed.

“Sorry” she said

“I thought you were supposed to be at Petey’s.” I said

“I was, I broke a pair of sticks…”

“How?” I asked.

He looked up from the box where dad kept all the extra ones and the different size ones.

“It’s better that you not know..”

“Did you like.. Stab Petey or something?”

“No I didn’t stab anyone. Jake and Wil came over and we were outside and I had them in my
back pocket.”

Wil Devine, son of lead singer Mat Devine of Kill Hannah. I swear to god we’re friends with
every rock star from Chicago’s kids.

“Devine?” I said a little too dreamily, he was pretty good looking, stupid puns.

“yeah. Wil Devine.”

“Right, so what exactly did you do?” I said snapping back into reality at the sight of Kayla’s
raised eyebrow.

“Remember that time you came home and petey was on the roof.”

Wil had Mat’s creepyish, yet irresistible voice and smile. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he didn’t wear makeup like his father, except for the one time at Halloween.

“You jumped off the fucking roof didn’t you” Kayla said talking for the first time directly to
Drew.

“Maybe? Either way … one of us stepped on them.”

“Stepped on or landed on?” She asked

“It’s all really perspective isn’t it?” Drew asked before turning on his heel and leaving the
room.

I watched Kayla’s eyes follow Drew out of the room.

“Kay?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Drew isn’t it?”

“No.”

“What did he do?”

“Nothing” she said in a manner of fact way.

I think she both meant and didn’t mean nothing.. If that makes any sense.

“Right”

“Can we just get back to this?”

“Yeah.”

Just as I was about to count her off Kayla shrieked.

“It’s Wil isn’t it?”

“What? I sputtered out while tapping my foot on the ground which apparently wasn’t the
ground, it was the foot pedal for the bass kick drum.

“You have a thing for Wil… you think he’s Devine.”

Worst fucking pun ever.

“That, was moronic, and no I don’t.”

I started counting on the kick drum as Kayla glared at me before she started playing.