Human Connect To Human

{Concert 1} Chapter 5: Friday (Part 1)

Concert 1

Chapter 5: Friday

Part 1

“The concert is tomorrow, right?” Leah asks me on our way to school.

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “What about it?”

“What are you going to wear?” She asks, looking at me from head to toe. “Not this, right?”

“No!” I exclaim horrified. “I can't go and see him- them- like this.”

“Let's go shopping,” she says, walking in front of me. “Let's go now.”

“You mean ditch school?” I ask, slightly horrified.

“Of course! We could go downtown to Macy's or Cole's or the Hip. Yeah, the Hip!”

“I don't know,” I say gripping my bag. “I have to do something today.”

“What? You mean school?” Leah grips my arms. “Look, I’ll smooth it over with your dad later. Let’s just go.”

“I don’t know…” I reply. Ditching has never been as easy for me as it is for Leah. I hate disappointing teachers, especially my favorite ones. The look of disappointment that they give me breaks my heart apart. “Smooth it over now.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Leah says sarcastically, taking out her phone from her leather purse. She pressed my fathers number on the speed dial, number 4 right after her mom’s, and waits for him to answer.

”Hey, Mr. Alice.”

She puts him on speaker.

Hey, Leah. What’s up?

“Nothing much. Walking to school with your awesome daughter.”

Anything wrong?

“Nope. Just a dilly-dally. Could we borrow the car to head over to the Hip?”

Isn’t there school today?

“There is. But the concert is tomorrow and I know you’ll agree that Mikah has nothing to wear.”

I groan internally. Leah sure knows how to convince dad. He’s probably in my closet right now looking through my stuff. Unfortunately for me, he agrees. He even agreed to drop us off and pick us up during his lunch. Damn him and his sense of fashion.

        As we wait for him to pick us up, we head to a local Starbucks. Leah orders for me since I've never had Starbucks before. She returns with a cool chocolaty delight that is surprisingly good. We discuss what stores we are going to go to, or rather she discusses and I nod. Shopping, along with ditching, has never been my thing. Too complicated. Dad can never take me with him, even to the grocery store, because I go, get what I need, and leave. He peruses the wares, assesses and bargains.

        Dad arrives just as we finish our drinks. He sits down on the seat next to me, hand draping over my shoulder, and smiles. He comments about loving his job before standing to get his drink. He buys another round of drinks for us and we leave.

        In order to get to the Hip, we had to pass by the school. Dad thought it be cool if we hung out a while, seeing as we never spent time together. He parked the car in the Popeye's parking lot and climbed out. Stretching, making his shirt ride up, he walks between Leah and I. Leah hangs back and bit, eyes wide. She points at dad and winks. Her sign that she thinks he’s hot. I laugh, making him turn. Dad, hot? I wouldn’t know.

        We sit in the stone seats surrounding the school by the field. Students pass us by, wondering what we are doing, but none stop to say hello. Finally at eight, dad gets a call from his office. He is more than two hours late but he doesn’t care. Today it’s girl’s day. He tells this to his assistant and gives her instructions. She will be editor for the day, he tells her. She jumps with joy, or so I imagine, and dad smiles. He loves making people happy. But unlike Leah, or that assistant, I see his eyes are infinitely sad. Something is up with him.

“Shall we go?” He asks politely. “It's nearly nine.”

“Yes,” I reply, looking longingly at the school. I should have gone in with the rest of the school. “Let’s go.”

        We walk back to the car in silence. Dad walks ahead, his body stiff. Even Leah sees the change. We get in and head to Hip, a good half-hour away. Dad inserts a CD in to the player and holds his breath. Out comes Tokio Hotel.

Instead of tuning it out, I find myself intrigued by the lyrics and the man singing them. At Monsoon, I find myself longing to be with him on the other side of it. During Don’t Jump, I cry silently as he sings the last few notes. What could’ve happened to him to make him write this?

        We arrive just as Rescue Me ends, but we don’t get out of the car. Dad sits in his seat staring at the steering wheel. Leah looks at me through the side window. She leaves the car, giving us room to talk. Dad puts his head on the steering wheel, his hands covering his face. Is he crying?

“Dad,” I say softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I-”

“Don’t lie to me.” I chide. “You’re not a very good liar anyways.”

“We’ll talk at home, alright?” I nod and he smiles. The smile almost reached his blue-green eyes. He pats my cheek for a second before turning and getting out of the car. I follow soon after.

He walks between Leah and I, his arms around our shoulders. Leah looks at me, her brow quirked up in worry. I shake my head and she lets it go, for now.