Recovery

Chapter 19

"Who's there?" I call out, a flashback threatening to take over my thinking. I hear whispers in the bush, and soon some guys are walking out of the bush, hands casually in their pockets.

"Hey," one if them offered. I don't recognize them.

"Who are you?" I stand up, ready to bolt if the need arises.

"Relax, we're not here for you. We're here for your music." Another of them said, while a shaggy blond one slapped him.

"Think before you speak, Robert." He turns to me. "We need to do a school report on someone local, and we'd like to do it on you. We heard from some of our other buddies about you in music, so we'd thought we'd come check you out." His eyes widen at the realization if what he just said. He gets a smack in the head for that one. Checking me out, huh?

"What he meant is that your are most definitely a good singer." The first guy speaks up again, his black eyes actually checking me out. I think shaggy was telling a half truth. They were checking me out.

"What class is this for?" They could be lying.

"History," says the guy they called Robert.

"Bio," says shaggy.

"Music," the first guy declares.

It reminded me about the joke about the students being late for a test because they had a 'flat tire'. On their tests the teacher asked them which tire.

"Get outta here." I tell them, and they look like they're going to protest before disappearing into the bushes again.

"You really should perform somewhere though, seriously," one of them calls from somewhere within mom's shrubs.

Well, that was interesting. I walk back to the front just as someone is pulling in the driveway. It's mom's blue BMW. Finally, I'm not stuck outside. Mom steps out of the car and slings her satchel over her shoulder.

"Whatcha doing outside dear?" I'm painting the sky, mom. Can't you tell?

"Forgot my key this morning." Only because I'm a lazy person that sprints to the bus stop to get there on time.

"I saw some boys walking away from here. Were they bugging you?" They were being slightly stalker-ish but who am I to say?

"No, just flirting." I roll my eyes. Typical guys. Mom sighs.

"Honey, isn't there just one guy? That you would be slightly interested in dating?" No. Ew. Gross. Never in my life have I had romantic thoughts about someone. No, that's not true, there were my elementary crushes, but no one I would date. I'm not ready for that.

"Mom, I'm too busy for a boyfriend." I force my voice to sound bored. But Ben pops into my head. He was so sweet today, both in the morning and in music. Why did he do that? He obviously didn't have to, no one else did, so why did he? This all is getting too confusing for me, so I walk up to the front door and wait for mom to unlock it. Then I go inside and grab a snack. The second and third last cookies. I am not going to eat the last one.

I open up the fridge and take out the milk. I pour it into a glass. When I put the milk jug back in the fridge I spot my leftover taco. Only one. Why? It is such a cruel world! No taco for me then, I guess. I gulp down the milk and cookies and lug my guitar up the stairs to my room. I open the case and gingerly lift my baby from it's soft bed. I sit down cross legged on the floor and pick up one of my newer pieces. I strum a few complicated chords to begin with, and then hesitantly start into the lyrics. One word at a time, repeating a phrase every so often if I didn't get it just right. After my third song I hear a tap on the door.