Everything I've Known | By : SolusNemo Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > MEST Views: 1108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of MEST. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Six: Your Promise
Your uneasy eyes, the sweat on your forehead
Everyone’s pointing your nervousness out
It’s obvious now that you’re scared of yourself
And there’s nothing to keep them from knowing this now.
The pounding of the rain against the truck created a nice beat behind the music coming from the radio. Grey clouds were hiding the rising sun, making it still seem like the very early morning. Abigail loved days like these, the kind where you just wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep through it. She didn’t have to worry about baking in the sun and, when she was younger, her therapist would cancel meetings because he hated driving in rain and snow. Now-a-days she happily drove down roads and highways, the water in the wheel wells humming loudly.
It seemed like it had been days since she had left home, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour or two in reality. Brennan, like clockwork, had called her when he was on the train and asked the usual questions. He had brought up going to a marriage councilor, but cut the conversation off short when he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere; the couple had gone to countless groups to try and save their marriage, but they had all ended the same way. They were two completely different people, polar opposites if you will, and even the councilors had no idea what kept the two together.
She was the free spirit, having her own set of impossibly high standards that she had to abide by before anyone else’s. He was the linear thinker, the kind of person who would self-destruct before bending the rules. Abigail remembered when they first talked, how Brennan’s persistent attitude made her feel like a fly trapped under a glass ...
Sharp pains shot up and down her stomach, but she was used to hunger pains. It was like they went hand in hand with her busy schedule; she didn’t have time to eat even if she wanted to. Her mother was a failed dancer, so it was only natural to try and get her eldest daughter into the business ... she was going to be a Radio City Rockette even if it killed her. Out of Jenny’s two daughters Abigail had been given the height genes, she was growing like a weed and already 5’9’’. Abigail was used to being carted around since she was in beauty pageants when she was a small child, being glammed up and stuffed into little dresses to woo the judges. She had never won a first place trophy. When she was eight her mother had signed her up for ballet, tap and a brief time at urban dance. Head shots and dance auditions were a normal thing by now, along with traveling to New York City to watch the Rockettes perform.
Today was a Monday and on Mondays Abigail would rush off to the local ballet studio once school let out. She picked up her books and slid out of her desk, her clothes hanging on her as she stood up. Someone cleared their throat and, when Abigail didn’t turn around, call her name.
“Abigail Mercue, right?” A fair haired boy asked, slightly fidgeting in the heat of the class room.
She nodded and turned to look at the addresser. She searched her brain and found a name to match the face: Brennan Lynch. He was on the baseball team, one of the few people to cross the book worm — jock bridge. “Yeah. Why do you want to know?”
Brennan shrugged one shoulder and lowered his eyes to his shoes. “I was wondering ... Maybe you — would you want to go down to Doreen’s after school with me?” He rushed out his question stuttering slightly out of nervousness.
“I can’t. I have ballet after school.” Abigail responded kindly, looking down at Brennan. She was taller than him or maybe just because he was slouching.
“Tomorrow, the next day? We could go see a movie on the weekend, too.” He sounded so desperate.
Abigail shook her head again, confused. “You want to go out on a date with me or is this because everyone knows I can’t do better?”
“What?” He looked up at her, “No, no! I want to date you. That is if you’ll let me.”
“Why would you want to date me? I hear Samantha Zipperer is free.”
Brennan laughed, maybe a little to harshly. “I don’t like Samantha Zipperer, I like you. You’re tall, skinny, gorgeous-who wouldn’t like that?”
Most people said that she was too thin, that or they didn’t even notice. This comment made her feel uncomfortable. “A lot of people. I’m sorry, but I’m always really busy.” She added.
“Don’t you have a day off? We can do whatever you want then.”
“No, not really.”
Frowning Brennan sighed shortly. “Please?”
She agreed. Why? Because she had no idea who Brennan really was, they never talked and he didn’t seem like the kind of person to just walk up to someone random and ask them out on a date, yet he was the only guy to take notice of her.
A phone ringing brought her out of her shallow reverie. Looking around she noted that she was still on the highway, the rain lightening up slightly. Abigail looked at the overhead highway sign, indicating that there were only a few miles left to Concord. She reached over with her right hand and pressed a button on her cell phone (sitting in a holder on the dash; one of those handless talking deals). “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Matt.” There was a commotion in the background on his end, but that soon stopped as a door was audibly shut. “Is that better?”
“Yes, I can hear you now.”
Matt chuckled. “Good, but the rain makes it sound like you’re in a barrel or something. I don’t have a lot of time before sound check, I just called to ask whether or not you’re going to make it here?”
“I’m in the truck now, actually. Maybe an hour or two.”
There was a knock on Matt’s line. “That’s great! But I have to go now, apparently I didn’t have as much time as I thought. I look forward to seeing you. I gave your name to security, so if you show up early they’ll let you in. We’re staying in the Holiday Inn & Suites around the corner to save some money so—in a minute!—pop in if you want and look around for me.”
Abigail smiled. “All right. I’ll see you when I see you. Good-bye.”
“I—” He forced a pause “—‘Bye. Take care.”
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