Dancing With Keenan

Chapter One - I Need A Favor

"Lilah, I need a favor," Phoebe said from the other end of the phone call.

I twisted a lock of chestnut hair around my finger, leaning back against the sofa. When it came to Phoebe, there was no telling what she would want or need. Sometimes it was a legitimate favor, and sometimes it was something she cooked up to cheer me up.

Neither idea was very appealing.

But I was bored, and she sounded sincere for once. "What is it?" I finally asked.

"So," she began, "This friend of mine is in a band, and the lead singer has a sore throat, probably laryngitis."

"A friend or a 'friend'?"

"Doesn't matter."

"What's the favor?"

There were at least a full thirty seconds of silence before Phoebe spoke again, her words rushed and almost slurred as she tried to get them all in before I interrupted. "They need someone to fill in, and I kind of offered you. They have a gig tonight and they really didn't wanna cancel last minute."

I groaned. "Phoebe!"

"Please, Lilah? I'm begging you. For me?"

There were so many reasons I should say no. I had classes tomorrow. I had three exams coming up. I didn't know anybody in this band, not to mention that I didn't know anything about the band. I didn't know the music, or even the style that they played. I hadn't sung on stage -- or been on a stage at all -- in years, not since before my life went to hell in a handbasket.

"Lilah?" She prodded, pulling me out of my spiralling thoughts.

"I have class in the morning, Phee."

"C'mon! I'm begging you."

"And I have to study."

"You need to get out more, Lilah. Have some fun for a change."

I sighed, picking at the cuticle on my thumbnail. "I have plenty of fun."

"Not anymore."

She was going to turn this into a lecture. I could already tell. For the last two years, Phoebe had taken every opportunity she'd had to try to help me. The problem was her idea of helping. She wanted me to be the same person I was back then, and that just wasn't going to happen. I'd changed. A lot. And no amount of going out and partying and having fun was going to change who I was now.

She meant well, but she'd never understand, not without experiencing the hell I've been through, and I prayed she never would.

"Look, you don't go out. You go to class, study, sleep, and go back to class. Maybe watch a football game once in awhile. That's it. You need to get out of the house, do something fun, and maybe a little crazy. It's been two years, and I know it won't go away, but you've got to live your life."

Blood started to leak onto my nail. I forced myself to leave the cuticle alone and started tapping my thigh with my fingers. A little orange kitten wandered into the room and leapt onto the side table.

"Get down, Honey Bun," I scolded, even though I knew he wouldn't listen.

"Lilah."

I scooped the fuzzy kitten from the table and deposited him back on the wood floor. He headbutted my knee, asking for attention.

"Delilah!" Phoebe snapped.

Her tone of voice told me everything I needed to know.

I was either going to fill in for this band or catch hell from Phoebe.