Where We Begin

Chapter 3 - My House Is On Your Way Home

July 2nd, 2002 - Busta

It was about 7pm by the time I got home from the Johansen's. Besides almost falling off the roof when Taylor got out of the water and started drying herself off, I think it went OK. I didn't say one word to her and didn't make eye contact, so yeah, I'm pretty sure we are going to be besties when school starts up. 

"Busta! Finally!" Buddy exclaimed when I walked into the house. "I need a ride to the movies. It starts in 20 minutes, we gotta go!"

"Number one, little bro, I'm wiped out. Number two, the only wheels I have right now are my bike. Why can't mom take you?"

"She went to go get Aunt Ivy from the airport and they got stuck in traffic. Aunt Ivy called and said you can take her car. Pleeeease Busta. My friends are waiting for me!" Buddy begged. 

"Ugh, hang on, let me just change real fast. Get your stuff and be in the garage in 2 minutes." 

I headed up the back stairs to my room, looked at my beautiful queen sized bed and sighed. Soon, old friend, soon. I threw on some clean jeans and a Foo Fighters t-shirt and headed down to the garage. Buddy was already in the passenger seat of Aunt Ivy's car, dangling the keys and grinning.

"You know, you are lucky I've been dying to drive this BMW," I said, sliding into the driver's seat. "It's the only reason you're getting a ride right now."

* * * * * 

I pulled up to the theatre and Buddy jumped out, waving bye and yelling thank you. I watched him run over to his friends and go inside. For a second, I was jealous at how easy it was for him to adjust to this move. It was like all the bad memories meant nothing to Buddy anymore. 

I had a lot more trouble shaking it all off. I still remembered the pain, the smell of alcohol on dad's breath, the sound of my mom shouting at him to stop. I also hated waking up the next day, trying to ignore the sore spots and having to come up with a good story for any visible bruises. 

I was just about to drive away, when I turned back and saw a face at the window. I let out a yelp. It was Taylor. She laughed and motioned for me to roll down the window.

"Hey! Simon right?" she said. I noticed three other girls standing behind her, giggling. 

"Uhhhh yeah. Well, kinda, most people call me Busta."

"Oh, gotcha. I must have missed that in our long conversation by the pool today." I just stared at her, still recovering from being jolted out of my thoughts. She laughed again. "It was a joke. You need to relax a little."

"Sorry, I guess I haven't really gotten used to the laid back Cali lifestyle," I said sheepishly. Why was this girl talking to me? Why was I acting like such an ass?

"Well, you should." Taylor turned to the girls. "Brandy, Amber, Kiki.. this is that guy I was telling you about before the movie, Simon. Wait, just kidding, Busta. He goes by Busta. Brandy is the blonde, Amber, my fellow red head, and Kiki is our sexy Mexi!"

I said hey, and they said hey back. This whole thing was throwing me off. Did she say she told them about me? Is this some hidden camera prank show? They all had these smiles on, exchanging glances with each other. It was weird.

"It was nice to meet you Busta, but we're all starving. Taylor, are you coming for pizza?" Brandy asked. 

Taylor looked back at me, then turned to her friends. "No, I think I ruined my appetite with all that popcorn. I'll get a ride back with Busta." 

Amber shrugged. "Suit yourself. See you later!" 

They walked off toward the parking lot and before I could protest, Taylor was in the passenger seat.