Some Rules Are Better Off Broken

Chapter Thirteen

"Where are my clothes!" I scream loudly, throwing everything all over the place.

See, if it wasn't already obvious, I'm a dancer and I love dancing. As a dancer, we usually have to change a lot and y'know, change in our dressing rooms. So, when I can't find my clothes, that means that I can't fucking dance which equals an extremely pissed off eighteen year old girl. I'm supposed to be out there in three minutes and my clothes are nowhere to be found.

My dad barges into the room with Taylor and Mia on each side of him. "Kennedy, what's the problem?"

"I can't find my clothes!" I shout, throwing my arms up in the air in exasperation when I don't find them anywhere between the racks of clothes. "Kennedy, calm down. Maybe they've been misplaced, for now, I'll call Alison and tell her to bring you an extra pair, ok?"

I nod in agreement. "Yeah, thank you dad."

"Anything for you, honey."

"While he does that, we can maybe clean up this place?" Sara teases, trying to ease the current tension. I lightly smile at her effort. "I think we should." Mia claps her hands. "I'll take the r-"

"Um, honey, you're not gonna like this..." Dad cuts off Mia, giving me a nervous smile and scratching the back of his neck apprehensively. "What is it?"

"Well, haha," he forces out a laugh, "It seems that apparently, the extra clothes are nowhere to be found and we have no way to get another pair under short notice." My mouth gapes in shock as Taylor, Mia, and Sara also do the same. Olivia doesn't seem too upset about it, that's very normal of her. "So, I can't go on stage?" I have to fight away the boiling rage that I feel coming up rapidly. This can't be happening.

Sara looks at my dad, fear etched across her face, afraid of what he's about to say. He motions for everyone else to leave. They shoot me hopeful glances and 'good luck's' as they all leave through the doors, silently closing the door behind them. "Kennedy," Dad walks closer to me and takes a hold of my hand. Justin would probably do the same.

Stop thinking about Justin, stupid. You don't like him.

I know I don't like him. He just can't get out of my head. The other voice, the good-slash-nice one or the 'angel' says differently.

Stop lying to yourself, you know you like him.

"Yes, dad?" I seriously need a break from that boy. He's always in my head. In my thoughts. Dad kisses my hand gently and that's when I know, I'm not going on stage.

"One bacon clubhouse burger, one bacon habanero ranch quarter pounder, and one bacon and cheese quarter pounder with three Cokes." I throw the paper McDonald's bag at Kenny, Ryan, and Scrappy who are all huddled together waiting for my return. "What does any of this food have to do with me helping out backstage?"

Ryan stuffs a few fries in his mouth, arguing with Scrappy that he should get to hold the bag so Kenny answers my question after he snatches the bag away from them both with a scowl on his face. "Kids, I swear." He mutters under his breath before turning to me. "This helps backstage because, it teaches you responsibility."

I furrow my eyebrows. "I'm already responsible."

"Yeah, but can you go to a store by yourself?" I look at him incredulously. "Yes."

"Would you look at that, the concert is over and we all need to go back to help Scooter on his bus, bye!" Scrappy saves him, running away with Kenny and Ryan trailing not too far behind him.

This crew is actually full of some weird people.

I shake my head and pick up a water bottle, watching Justin come out from the side. He wipes his face with his hand towel per usual and walks over to me with a smirk on his face, per usual. "Wait, why weren't you on stage?" I close my water bottle and look up at him, "My clothes went missing." I say as seriously as I can because, it sure sounds ridiculous.