My mouth blossomed into a smile at Matt’s equal concern for my well-being and the band’s sound. If it wasn’t for his tenacity, I had no doubt that we wouldn’t be half as good as we were. “I know that, Matt. Trust me, if I couldn’t do this, I would tell you. I know my voice; this song isn’t a problem.”
Seemingly satisfied, Matt finally smiled. “Good. ’Cause that seriously kicked ass.” He laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him.
Gathering up my guitar, I headed for its case resting on Evan’s couch. Thinking of my melancholy mood last night, and remembering one of my reasons for it, I said over my shoulder, “Oh, hey, Joey moved out, so if you guys know anyone looking for a room, my place is open again.” My passionate ex-roommate had moved out a few nights ago, and the house had been really quiet ever since. I hated the oppressive silence.
Griffin had been busy pretending to play his bass to a horde of adoring fans. In between headbanging, he was throwing out devil horns, tongue waggles, and pelvic thrusts. As usual after rehearsal, all of us had been ignoring his over-the-top, I’m-a-rock-star, look-at-me antics, choosing to let him live out his fantasies in peace. He usually ignored our comments too, since they were usually all music related. My last one got his attention though.
His face fell as he set down his guitar. “Joey’s gone? Fuck. Really? What happened?”
I didn’t feel like going into details, so I gave him as vague of an answer as possible. “She got mad, moved out.” Truth was, she’d caught me in bed with another woman and flipped out. Joey and I had fooled around on occasion, but I hadn’t realized how possessive she was until a few nights ago, when she’d practically ripped my nuts off and chased my date down the street. She’d had more than a few choice words for me, but the phrase “You’re going to be alone for the rest of your life, because you’re a worthless piece of shit” was the one that rang in my ears most often.
Griffin saw right through my hazy answer. Thin lips pursed in annoyance, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You nailed her, didn’t you?” I made no response to that. I didn’t even blink. Griffin huffed out an irritated breath. “Goddammit, Kellan. I was supposed to bang her first.”
Even though his argument was absurd and idiotic, I had to smile at him. I hadn’t realized there was a waiting list for my ex-roommate. Matt scoffed at his cousin. “You wanted him to wait sixty years until Joey finally got bored enough to give you the time of day? Nobody has that kind of patience, man.”
Griffin glared daggers into Matt while Evan laughed at his comment. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t talking to you, asswipe.”
Matt wasn’t dissuaded by Griffin’s thought-provoking comeback. Instead of minding his own business, like Griffin had implied, Matt countered with, “And why would Kellan want your seconds anyway? He could catch something. They make after-school specials about crap like that, you know?”
Fire lit up Griffin’s light eyes. “I have to get his seconds all the goddamn time. Why shouldn’t he get mine every once in a while? Seems fair to me.”
Evan started laughing so hard he had to swipe a finger under his eye. Seeing him start to lose it made me laugh too. Matt tried to keep a straight face while he answered Griffin’s inane question, but he struggled. Voice choppy with chuckles, Matt told him, “Kell’s got options. You don’t, cuz. You have to take whatever you can get.”
Not amused, Griffin eyed each one of us in turn. “Fuck you, and you, and you.” With that, he stormed off, the front door banging closed behind him.
Matt sighed as the last of his laughter left him. “I suppose I should go pacify him. We do need his van for the gig tonight.” I thumped his shoulder as he walked by. Good luck.
Two weeks later, I was still living alone in my parents’ empty house when the phone in my kitchen rang.
“Hello?” I asked, picking it up. Leaning back on the counter, I played with a section of the cord while I waited for a response. It was quick in coming.
“Hey, Kellan?”
My lips broadened into a wide smile as recognition hit me. I knew the accent on the other end of the line. I’d know it anywhere. “Denny?”
Just hearing his voice again made me feel lighter, like my worries were already fading. Denny Harris had been one of the brightest spots of my childhood, perhaps the only one. In order to look like freaking saints to their friends, my parents had decided to participate in hosting a sixteen-year-old exchange student when I was fourteen. They hadn’t asked my opinion, of course, but I’d been fine with the arrangement. I’d always wanted a brother, and the idea of having a friend at home for an entire year had sounded amazing.
I’d counted down the days until his arrival, and when the time finally came, I’d bounded down the stairs to meet him.
When I’d rushed into the entryway, a tan, dark-haired teen had been standing between my parents, looking around our home with interested eyes. A polite smile was on his lips as he raised his hand in greeting; his eyes were just as dark as his close-cropped hair. I’d returned his gesture with a crooked grin. I had been the only family member smiling.
Mom’s lips had been pursed in disapproval. Dad had been scowling, but that was nothing new. Dad had always scowled at me.
In a prudish voice, Mom had said, “It’s rude to keep your guests waiting, Kellan. You should have been waiting at the door, or met us at the car so you could help unload the bags.”
Dad barked, “What the hell took you so long?”
I’d wanted to say that I should have been waiting at the airport with them, but that was an argument I couldn’t win, so I hadn’t bothered bringing it up. I’d asked to go, but they’d made me stay home. Mom had said I would just “get in the way,” like I was a toddler and still underfoot or something. Dad had simply said, “No. Stay here.”
I’d been upstairs playing my guitar when I’d heard the front door open. It had taken me all of thirty seconds to set it down and run out there. But, knowing nothing I said would have mattered, I’d merely widened my smile and given them an answer that I knew they would, at the very least, agree with. “I’m just slow, I guess.”
Impatience and irritation had been brimming in Dad’s eyes, also nothing new. “Isn’t that the truth,” he’d murmured. His eyes narrowed as he examined me. He’d wanted me to dress nicely for the new arrival, and I think he’d been expecting a suit and tie. Fat chance. I’d been wearing frayed jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt from a local bar.
Catching me off guard, Dad had reached up and snatched a handful of my hair. He fisted his hand close to my scalp, stinging me with pinpricks of pain. Knowing any movement was going to make it even more unpleasant, I’d held very still. Yanking on my hair, Dad had jerked my head back and snarled, “I told you to cut this crap off. You look like a no-good degenerate. I’m going to buzz you in your sleep one day.” Mom and Dad had always hated my shaggy, unkempt style. Maybe that was why I’d kept it for so long.
Out of the corner of my eye, I had watched the dark-haired stranger taking in what was happening with wide, shocked eyes. By the way he glanced between my dad and me, uneasily shifting his weight back and forth, it was pretty obvious that he was uncomfortable witnessing the confrontation. I didn’t blame him. It wasn’t exactly a great welcome-to-the-neighborhood moment.
Through clenched teeth, I’d asked my dad, “You gonna introduce me to our guest, or are you gonna try and scalp me with your bare hands?”
Dad had snapped his gaze to the stranger among us and immediately dropped his hold on me. Mom, in all her maternal glory, had let out a beleaguered sigh. “Don’t be so dramatic, Kellan. It’s not like he hurt you by ‘touching’ your hair.” From her tone of voice, it had sounded like Dad was only playfully ruffling my hair. Strangely enough though, her words had made me feel like I was overreacting.
Puffing his chest out, Dad finally introduced us. “Kellan, this is Denny Harris. He’s joining us all the way from Australia. Denny, this is Kellan…my son.” That last part had been added with clear reluctance.
With an affable smile, Denny had stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
Touched by his sincerity, I grabbed his hand and said, “Nice to meet you too.”
After that, Denny’s bags had been thrust into my face, and I’d been ordered to be the house butler while my parents showed him around. My parents expected obedience from me, so no kind words had followed their demand, but Denny had thanked me for my assistance as I’d taken his stuff. That had instantly made me like him. His simple gratitude was more heartwarming than anything Mom and Dad had ever said to me.
My moment of warmth hadn’t lasted long though. The second Denny disappeared with Mom, Dad had grabbed my arm and sneered, “Don’t push me, Kellan. You need to be on your best behavior while Denny is here. I won’t put up with any of your crap. You step out of line, I’ll whoop you so hard, it’ll be a week before you can stand up straight. Two before you can sit properly. You understand me?”
Dad had shoved his finger into my chest for an emphasis that I hadn’t needed. I’d understood him completely. Unlike some parents, Dad hadn’t been giving me an empty threat to keep me in line. No, he had meant every word he’d just said. He would ignore my cries and pleading for him to stop. He’d leave me raw, just on the verge of bleeding. Because he was in charge, and he wanted me to know that. I was nothing to him. Absolutely nothing.