Dealing With People (on hold)

Part eleven

*See note at end *

I was dramatically mouthing the words to my earbudded music when my dad opened my door, “What kind of pizza you want?”

Instantly humiliated, I froze and wanted to die. Who cares about pizza? You just walked in on me.

He slowly walked in to my bedroom staring me down. He plucked a earbud from my ear and stuck it in his ear and began dramatically jamming out, swinging his head around and guitar strumming.

I couldn’t play along even if he was trying to make me feel better.

I paused the music and squeaked out “Bacon?”

“Anything else?” He said as he left.

I shrugged.

“K, me and mom will be back in about half an hour.”

I smiled. “Okay, see you soon.”

I watched from my bedroom window as they pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street.

I snatched my phone off my bed and rushed downstairs and plugged it in to the stereo, turning it up as loud as it could go.

I flicked my hair around and began screamsinging along to Fall out Boy and frantically running around the house.

Jumping around the living room and falling back on the couch while screaming my lungs out. It was glorious.

“Let's be alone together (yeah)
We could stay young forever (yeah)
Scream it from the top of your lungs, lungs, lungs
Say yeah (yeah!”)

It was all fun and games in that crazy state of being. That is, until the door bell rang.

I was, at that moment, flung across the couch, laughing hysterically at myself between my singing.

For the second time that day, I wanted to die.

But this was worse.

My dad couldn’t hear my music from down the street.

My dad didn’t hear me screeching.

The embarrassment was so intense that my eyes filled with tears and I rolled off the couch and crawled across the house to look out the window.

No.

No, no, no.

Could life get any worse at this moment?

There was a blue Civic parked in our drive way.

That could only mean one thing.

Zachary was standing outside my door.

I supposed that I had to answer the door. It was obvious that someone was home. And my mother wasn’t one to particularly like Punk Rock.

Instead of going and turning the music down, I just opened the door.

I’m sure my heavy breathing and fiery red face spelled out what was going on in here.

Zachary looked just as uncomfortable as me when I jerked the door open, the music streaming out and slapping him in the face.

“Do you got room for one more troubled soul?” He half sang together with the music.

My brain spun. Jeez, he’s good.

Like the idiot that I am, I didn’t even invite him inside. We just stood their staring at eachother in I don’t know in what way while the music streamed in to the street.

From what I remember, we stood their for a weirdly long time until he pointed inside and I was brought back to my senses.

I berated myself and  let him in.

“Sorry… did you not know that I was coming?” The embarrassment in his voice killed me.

“I..” I couldn’t even finish a stupid sentence.

I swallowed hard and shut the door behind him.

The song had come to an end and I stared at my feet as the next came on.

“I’m guessing you like Fall Out Boy?” At least one of us had the guts to dig out of the awkward trenches.

I looked up, my confidence etching its way back. Did I like Fall Out Boy? DID I!? I bit my lip and swung my head around to the music and ran to the kitchen, Zachary following suit like the adorable little gummy bear he was.

I was thrilled that the tension so quickly thrust into my atmosphere was torn to shreds in moments. I didn’t turn the music off or even turn it down, but let the therapy continue to blast through my speakers.

My bewilderment as to why Zachary was at my house was put aside. I didn’t even care. I was happy.

We danced in the kitchen crazily mouthing along to the music, sometimes screaming with it. I jumped on a chair, he slid on his knees. I whipped my hair around and he...did a backflip.

I let out a scream that wasn’t even loud because of the music and covered my mouth laughing.

He covered his face with his hands and explained, “Tumbling classes.”

We continued in like manner for a few more songs until I felt it time to settle it down as my parents would be home any minuet.

I threw myself on the couch, smiling. He sat at the other end looking at me.

Sure enough, we heard the garage door open to let my parents in.

“You’re fun, Alice.” He breathed.

I turned on the couch to see him better and smiled.

I didn’t really know what else to say besides, “Thanks.” 

*** 

Hiya! So this part might have been a little... eh? I wrote it seperately a while back and wanted to add it at some point in the story, so it might have some flow issues. So, sorry about that. ;) 

And yeahp. Totally obsessed with Fall Out Boy.

Ratings and comments are always super duper lovely and make my day. <3

Kathleen