The Pros And Cons Of Being In Love With The Lead Singer Of A Rock And Roll Band

Chapter Five

I was glad the next day was Saturday. It meant I didn’t have to face Alex.

I got his mobile off Liam and texted him:

“Hey, Alex, it’s Morgan Sydney. Won’t be at the dance. Hope you have fun. Hope you win. Morgan.”

Cold, wasn’t it?

You’d sound cold too, if you found out the guy you loved was just using you to further his career.

My parents were out at work and Liam was doing stuff with the band, so I got to sit on my favourite seat in the sofa, drinking hot chocolate and watching my favourite film (Mean Girls, with Lindsay Lohan. That film is such a reflection of real life.)

I just sat there, and tried not to think of Alex…

…But all the time I was telling myself not to think of him…

…I was actually thinking of him, by trying not to think of him.

Sound confusing? Thoughts like that were pirouetting round in my head all day. It was like a thousand bees were trapped in my brain, all buzzing round, desperately trying to escape.

I think I know how they felt.

*

“Had a good day, hon?” screamed Mum, as she clattered through the door, dropping all her shopping bags. I watched as she slammed the front door, trapping her scarf and when she tried to walk towards me, she almost strangled herself. My Mum’s like that. Accident prone.

“Yeah, it’s been a wonderful day,” I lied.

“Good!”

It’s really easy to lie to my Mum, since she’s usually preoccupied wreaking havoc.

Dad walked in just then. He’s totally different from Mum. I take after him. We’re both perfect. And we’re both really boring. Because we’re so busy trying to be perfect, we forget how to have fun.

I look at my parents and I wonder what brought them together. It seems impossible to think of them ever being in love.

And yet… Mum’s quite like Alex, I suppose. In certain ways. (Not that Alex is clumsy-he totally isn’t.) But they’re both willing to risk everything just so they can stand up for what they think is right.

And Dad’s like me. Goes with the flow, because he’s too scared to do anything else.

I mentally kick myself, because I’ve just remembered I’m not supposed to be thinking of Alex. I’m not supposed to be in love with Alex.

I’m not in love with Alex.

Not anymore.

“You OK, love?” asked Dad, kindly. “You look rather…” He paused, obviously trying to think of a word that summed up “heart-broken, betrayed and tearful” all in one. He evidently couldn’t find one, for he trailed off and looked helplessly at me.

“I’m fine,” I shrugged.

I live with a pair of crack-pot parents! My Mum wouldn’t notice if both my legs and arms fell off. My Dad would notice, but wouldn’t know how to handle it.

It doesn’t matter. You get used to it, after a while.

I turned away, because I love my parents so much that it was bringing tears to my eyes. They were so clueless, and so adorable. The kind of parents who’d be funny in a comedy show. You’d laugh your socks off, watching them.

But you wouldn’t want to be their child.

I often wonder if maybe they’re the reason why Liam changed so much. He gave up trying because it didn’t make any difference. No matter what he did, Mum didn’t notice and Dad didn’t praise.

I think maybe Mum and Dad know they’re part of the reason Liam went funny.

That’s why they adopted a totally different technique with me because they praise me all the time.

“Had a good day, love?” Dad asked exactly the same question that Mum did. I give exactly the same answer. The only difference is, he doesn’t believe me.

But he’s Dad. So he doesn’t push the point. He just goes into the kitchen and starts cooking dinner.

I often wonder what would happen if I stood on the kitchen table and started screaming: “I need your help, guys!”

Mum wouldn’t even notice. Too busy breaking things.

Dad would look guiltily at me, then drop his gaze.

And Liam wouldn’t even care.

I smiled. A sad, little smile. Happy families.