In the attic of Jade's childhood was an old trunk, locked. And even though she couldn't pry it open, nor did she have the key, the muffled sobs coming from inside told her more than she wanted to remember.
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A/N: sorry for the long wait, please enjoy the extra long chapter ;)
I got on my bed, crossed my legs and nestled the acoustic guitar in my lap. It had been a while since I had played the instrument. We bought it a couple of years ago in some yard sale. Jordan taught me how to play it and I was slowly getting the hang of it but then I got distracted with other stuff. The guitar had always been sitting in the corner of my room, just patiently waiting for me to notice its existence again.
I let my fingers caress the smooth wood - a little smile tugging at my lips when I saw Noah's signature. He insisted on signing the guitar 'cause he was convinced it was gonna be worth a lot of money when he made a name for himself. Yeah right.
I picked at each string just to hear the note, I did it several times over again to memorize each different sound it made. The tips of my fingers played with the frets and the tuning keys, just messing around.
The first song Jordan taught me to play on the guitar was Let It Be from The Beatles. I hadn't played the song since last year. I adjusted the guitar in my lap and grabbed the guitar pick - it was black with the AC/DC logo on it, it was Jordan's.
"Here goes nothing," I muttered to no one in particular. I started playing and it was obvious it had been a while since I had done this, I was starting to lose touch with the instrument. I tried again and again, repeating the same notes until I got it right. It wasn't easy and it still didn't exactly sound the way I wanted it, but I guess I was going to have to practice.
I was just playing with the guitar, all my attention on my fingers plucking at the strings while I softly sang under my breath. I tried not to think about the fact that up until two hours ago, Noah and I were threatened by a stranger - a stranger who then turned out to be anything but a stranger, he was Tristan and Jordan's dad. What his intentions were or what he wanted was still unclear to me. I knew enough that it had to do something with my mother. Again. Ever since she got back, she not only seemed to bring her drama with her but also people from the past. And those people usually tend to be bad news.
"You're getting better."
I startled and looked up to see Jordan leaning against my doorframe.
I half-smiled. "Hey. I didn't hear you come in."
He cocked his head towards the guitar in my lap. "I thought you had given up on mastering the poor ol' thing."
I stroked the wooden surface beneath my fingers and shrugged, "Guess I was in the mood."
Jordan walked over to me and made me scoot over so he could lie down on my bed. My brother is so big I swear my entire bed will cave in if he moved another inch. I carefully put the guitar down and sat closer to him, my legs still crossed and my knees touching his side.
