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Title: Play It From the Heart Author: Big Dummy (aka Stevie) Rating: PG13 Disclaimer: This is an original story. All characters belong tome. It depicts a romantic relationship betwen two high school girls. Nothing sexual, pure soppy romance. Think Diane Salvatore and Nancy Garden. But not as good. Any similarities between Krista and Taryn and any other characters/rl people is purely coincidental. Copyright Stuff: I think it goes without saying, but please do not reproduce this piece of original fiction anywhere without my permission. It's my baby. Questions and requests can be directed to the email address in my profile. Extra: My first time writing an original story, hopefully not my last. Also my first time posting any creative attempt here, or anywhere. It's not done yet, but it's at 177 pages so far, so by the time we get to where I stopped...well, hopefully it'll be done. ********************************* Play It From the Heart******************************************* She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to clear out her muddled mind. Slowly things began to filter through the haze: daylight, her room, music coming from her stereo, a knocking on her door--- it was the knocking that had awoken her. “Come in,” she called out. The door opened and her mother's head appeared. “Honey, you should get ready. We need to be at the Hoffa’s soon. And don’t forget to bring your bathing suit.” Krista shot a panicked look at the alarm clock next to her bed. 5:30. She had been napping for a bit. She looked back at her mother and shook her head in confusion. “I'll, um, get ready.” Her mother smiled indulgently and slipped back out, closing the door behind her. Krista sat for a moment, taking in her surroundings and gathering her wits about her. She hated that foggy-brained feeling that came after being yanked from sleep. Did her mom say to bring a bathing suit? Seriously? Her hand found the remote for the stereo and she turned it off. She climbed to her feet, running her hand through her hair. She hadn't even thought about what she would wear. And she needed to shower. She grabbed her towel from the back of her door and hurried down the hall to the shower. Twenty minutes later she emerged, refreshed and awake. She shuffled down the hall, her bathrobe tied tightly around her, toweling her hair dry. A note was tacked to her door: ‘We went over. Hurry up.’ “Thanks guys,” she muttered, ripping the note down. She stepped into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. She sniffed the air appreciatively. It was thick with the smell of barbeque, and she heard voices outside her window. She headed towards her window, stopping on the way to grab a t-shirt off the bed. Her parents had just arrived at the Hoffas. She could see Mrs. Hoffa greeting them. Her eyes traveled from the adults to the grill Jay was standing next to that was set up near the pool. He was wearing swim trunks and appeared to be stoking the flames. Her stomach growled in response; she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Her eyes continued their wandering, looking for an as-yet unseen Taryn. She did one more sweep of the yard, but still didn’t see her. She turned away and went to her closet to pull out the standard tank top and trunks she wore for swimming. *************************************** She hesitated for a split second before opening the heavy wooden door that led to the backyard. She slipped in unobserved and stood by the door, absorbing the scene. Her parents were sitting with Mrs. Hoffa on a set of lounge chairs that were arranged by the edge of the pool. Jay was still tending the coals in the grill. Taryn remained nowhere to be found. Maybe she had decided she had better things to do on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. She was still standing there, clutching her towel in her arms when Jay looked up from the grill and saw her. “Hey,” he greeted, waving at her. He roused the attention of her parents and Mrs. Hoffa, who all turned and smiled at her in greeting. “About time you got here,” her mother chided. “I thought you’d fallen back asleep.” Krista colored slightly in embarrassment and went to join them. “Hi Krista,” Mrs. Hoffa welcomed her. “Hi, Mrs. Hoffa.” “Krista,” she admonished her, “what did I tell you?” Krista stared at her in confusion for a second before remembering. “Oh,” she said, looking down shyly and smiling. “Sorry. Hi, Cheryl.” She tried not to stumble over the unfamiliar address. She was careful not to look at her mother, whom she was sure was looking at her with disapproval. When Mrs. Hoffa turned back to her parents to continue fussing over them she gratefully escaped over to where Jay was manning the grill. “Hey,” she greeted him. “I didn’t know you were a master griller.” “Yeah,” he joked, “it’s a hard job but, I’m the man to do it.” He tossed the large two-pronged fork he was holding into the air with a twirl. It arced and dropped into the pool. He winced and glanced at the giggling Krista before going to the edge and leaning over as if to fish it out. She heard him sigh; the fork was well on its way to the bottom. He began to stand when there was a rush of motion beside her and suddenly Taryn was there with outstretched arms. Krista watched in fascination as an unaware Jay seemed to fall in slow motion, head-first, into the pool. Jay emerged quickly, flinging his soaking hair out of his eyes and glaring at Taryn, who was crouching next to the pool, laughing. His eyes flickered to the other end of the pool where the adults were watching, and he cut off the line of foul language he was about to send Taryn’s way. He settled for muttering, “Hah hah, very funny,” before diving down to the bottom to snag the fork. Grilling implement finally in hand he crawled his way back to the edge of the pool and hauled himself up. He made sure to shake himself with enough vigor to send a spray of water Taryn and Krista’s way. Krista had covered her mouth, trying hard not to laugh. “Yeah, go ahead and laugh,” he said, smiling slyly. Krista quickly turned to face Taryn, who was edging towards her. “Oh no,” she said, backing away. She plucked at her shirt. “Not in my clothes.” Taryn stopped and put her hands on her hips. “You have to come out of them sometime.” Krista blushed at the remark, knowing that it hadn’t sounded nearly as risqué to anyone else. “Where did you come from?” she asked to cover up her embarrassment. Taryn turned around and reached for something lying on the ground behind her. When she stood again she was holding a bag of ice. “What would a party be without the obligatory last-minute ice run?” “Thanks honey,” Mrs. Hoffa said, coming over to retrieve the bag. Turning back to Krista’s parents she asked, “What will you have to drink? I have mixers for cocktails, soda, juice…you name it.” “Um…” Mr. Evans hesitated. “Tell you what,” Mrs. Hoffa offered. “Why don’t you come inside and take a look at the selection?” With that she headed for the sliding glass doors that led into the house, leaving Krista’s parents with no choice but to follow. Jay resumed his position by the grill, glancing warily at Taryn, and stoked the charcoal. The water from the fork made the coals sizzle and emit light plumes of smoke. Krista stepped a bit closer and inhaled, smiling. At Jay and Taryn’s questioning looks she explained sheepishly, “I love the smell of burning charcoal. It’s the best part of barbeques.” They nodded in apparent understanding. “It’ll definitely be the best part of this BBQ,” Taryn commented, throwing a teasing grin Jay’s way. “How do you like your burgers: well-done or really well-done?”
“Bite me,” he retorted.
“Watch your language. We have guests,” she responded primly, wagging her finger at him.
“Guests leave,” he shot back, narrowing his eyes.
Krista watched the exchange with amusement, and some envy. She thought back to the conversation she had had with Taryn at the drive-in. It was times like these that she did wish for a sibling.
“How long till food? I’m starving,” Taryn asked.
“Mmm, these are almost hot enough. Another five minutes and we can probably put the burgers on.”
“Quick swim before dinner then.” Taryn walked to the line of loungers at the other end of the pool and peeled off her shirt, revealing a small blue bikini top. Krista averted her eyes and reminded herself to breathe. Now there’s an unforeseen problem, she thought wryly. Taryn flesh, and lots of it from the looks of that top.
Jay noticed her reaction and, misreading it, admonished, “Taryn, BBQ, not strip bar!”
Taryn stopped in the middle of pulling off her jeans. “What?” she asked, glancing down at herself. She looked back up at Krista, comprehending Jay’s concern, and asked, “Are they gonna freak over a bathing suit?”
Krista hastily assured her that it was fine, feeling a twinge of guilt that she had somehow painted such a bad picture of her parents. It was sweet that the Hoffa clan was being so careful, trying to make a good impression on them.
Taryn stuck her tongue out at Jay and pulled her jeans the rest of the way off. She walked to the edge of the pool and dove in, slicing cleanly into the water. When she emerged she looked at Krista. “You coming?”
“Uh, yeah.” Krista walked to the chairs and began to remove her shirt, her movements slow. She had always been a little self-conscious about her body. Her swimming outfit was nowhere near as skimpy as Taryn’s, yet she still felt almost naked without her usual baggy clothes to cover her up.
She finished undressing and eased into the water. She was surprised to find that it was slightly warm from the sun, and she glided easily through. Jay jumped in, creating waves, and she leaned back until she was floating, riding the gentle surges. The sound of the glass doors sliding open attracted her attention as the adults re-emerged from the house, drinks in hand. They were chatting and seemed to be getting along. The sight put Krista’s nerves at ease; she wanted them to like Mrs. Hoffa. Cheryl, she chided herself.
Turning her attention back to the pool’s occupants, she saw Taryn swimming towards the blue rubber chair that was floating nearby. As she passed Krista she stopped and whispered, just loud enough so she could hear, “Oh look. They drink too,” gesturing with her head towards Krista’s parents, then pulled herself up onto the raft with ease and settled onto her back.
Krista did something that surprised her. She reached up with both hands and pushed as hard as she could on the surface of the raft, causing it to flip over and sending Taryn into the water with a large splash. When Taryn emerged, sputtering, she was greeted with hoots and howls of laughter from Jay, her mother, and even the Evans, while Krista had moved a safe distance away, watching, gripping the edge of the pool in laughter.
“Good for you, Krista!” Mrs. Hoffa cheered. “I’m sure she deserved it.”
“Thanks mom,” Taryn said, climbing back onto the raft. She settled back in, casting one last suspicious (albeit good-humored) look Krista’s way before laying down.
Mrs. Hoffa went to check out the grill, and called to Jay, “The coals are about done. Should we start grilling?”
“Okay.” Jay started to make his way back, clearly not eager to stop swimming yet.
“Why don’t you stay in the water, Jay?” Mr. Evans stood up from his chair and strolled over to the grill. “I know a little about grilling. If you guys want to swim, I don’t mind taking over.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Mrs. Hoffa asked.
“Absolutely. Go ahead. You too, Janice,” he urged.
“Well, thanks. That’s very nice of you.” Mrs. Hoffa smiled at him, and showed him the cooler where the meat was being held before hurrying back to the chairs to set down her drink. “Make way, you guys. Royalty’s coming,” she announced, climbing down the pool’s ladder.
“Thanks, Mr. Evans!” Jay called. Mr. Evans smiled and waved it off. Mrs. Evans went to her husband and gave him a small peck on the cheek before joining the others.
At Mrs. Hoffa’s suggestion, Mr. Evans retrieved two more floating chairs from the pool shed and placed them in the water for the women to recline on so that everyone could relax and chat comfortably. The adults settled in and began to feel each other out.
“So, Krista tells us you’re a lawyer,” Mrs. Evans started.
“I am. I work for a firm in Phoenix.”
“Oh. What kind of law do you practice?”
“Corporate law.” Mrs. Hoffa laughed as the Evans nodded their heads politely. “Yeah, it’s not that exciting to anyone except other corporate lawyers. And sometimes, not even to us. What about you? You just moved to Alexander, right? What brought you here?”
“Opportunity,” Mrs. Evans explained. She went into the story surrounding the family’s relocation, which Krista promptly tuned out, having heard it several times already. The teenagers hung around for a bit, feigning interest in the subjects their parents were discussing. Krista wanted to laugh out loud at the ritual of conversation. Ask a question, get an answer that means nothing to you, nod your head sagely, insert “Oohhh” here, or “Uh-huh” if you prefer, and let awkward silence set in until you came up with the next dumb question. She glanced at Jay and Taryn and saw that they appeared to be bored as well. In unspoken consensus the teens began to drift towards the other end of the pool and were soon engaged in a lively discussion of music
Mr. Evans tended the grill while conversing with his wife and their neighbor, and before long the smell of grilled meat was wafting in the air. After a short while he announced that the burgers were getting close to done.
“Okay. Taryn, Jay, help me carry the food out and set the table,” Mrs. Hoffa said as she floated towards the ladder.
“Oh please, allow me to help” Mrs. Evans offered, and followed her out of the pool.
“You’re our guests, and we already have Bill working the grill for us.”
“Really, I’d love to help,” Mrs. Evans insisted.
Cheryl shrugged her acquiescence and led the way to their towels. They dried off and tied the towels around their waists before heading off to the kitchen. “Why don’t you guys make sure the table’s set,” Cheryl called back to her children. Krista led the way out of the pool and over to their towels. She wrung her shorts out as best as she could, and slipped her dry t-shirt on over her tank top.
“I’m gonna go change,” Jay announced, plucking at his soaking shorts, and headed towards the house.
Krista waited for Taryn to get dressed and lead her in setting the table. She tried not to watch too closely as the other girl slipped her jeans on over her bikini bottoms and left her shirt on the chair, apparently happy to walk around in her bikini top. When she was done she turned to Krista and stopped.
Why is she staring at me? Krista wondered, until Taryn said, “Aren’t you gonna be uncomfortable in those? They’re soaked.” She looked down at herself and almost groaned out loud in embarrassment. The wet material of her shorts clung to her thighs, and her wet tank top was beginning to make a faint outline as it started to soak through her dry shirt as well.
“Yeah, I guess so,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Come on.” Taryn grabbed her arm and dragged her through the house. Krista willingly followed, shrugging at her mother’s questioning glance when they passed by the kitchen. She tromped up the stairs behind Taryn, her heart starting to thump loudly as she became increasingly aware that she might very well be headed to the Inner Sanctum- Taryn’s bedroom.
Taryn opened a door at the end of the hall and ushered her inside, leaving her near the door as she began rummaging through one of her dresser drawers. Krista allowed her eyes to roam the room and take in new knowledge about her crush. She recognized a number of titles on her bookshelf, and saw a few that she had been meaning to read but had never gotten around to. Her gaze flickered to the computer desk in the corner, and the Calvin and Hobbes screen saver made her grin. The bed was larger than hers and covered in a forest green blanket with three or four huge pillows at the head. She noticed the notebook lying open on the bed and wondered if it was schoolwork or lyrics. Her gaze continued to travel, taking in the posters on the wall of bands she recognized, and pausing at the open window. She could hear her parents and Mrs. Hoffa chatting. She looked across their backyard and as her eyes landed on the clear view of her own bedroom her thoughts of earlier came back to her with a shock. She involuntarily stepped further into the room, her mouth open in surprise. She blushed as she thought of the things she could have been caught doing. And she never closed her drapes. Not that Taryn would be looking at her anyway, but still…She vowed right then and there to cease her daydream-induced stares at Taryn’s window.
She wrenched her eyes away from the view to find that Taryn was standing next to her, waiting patiently with a pile of clothes in her hands. “Here. You can borrow these,” she offered.
Krista took the clothing, muttering, “Thank you.”
“No worries. I’ll---“ A knock at the door interrupted her. “Hold on a sec!” she yelled. Turning back to Krista she said, “Um, I’m gonna go downstairs, let you change in private.” She flashed her a smile and slipped out the door.
Krista stood in uncertainty for a moment before turning her attention to the bundle she was holding. She thumbed through the stack of clothing, seeing that there was more than just a pair of shorts in the bundle. As her fingers touched the soft material of a bra, she had a moment where she thought she might fall over. Was she really standing in Taryn’s bedroom, holding her bra? Was this for real? Was the universe intent on torturing her? With a sigh she decided yes, and started to undress.
************************
“What are you guys up to?” Jay asked his sister after she had closed the door behind her.
“Giving Krista some clothes.”
He chuckled. “Damn. You noticed that too, huh? Who knew she had such a smoking body underneath all those clothes?”
Who knew indeed. “Perve,” she said out loud, and swatted him on the arm. In truth she had also noticed that Krista’s wet clothing had revealed more curves than she would have guessed the girl had. Not that she would admit that to Jay. Something about standing around with your brother talking about another woman’s body seemed…wrong. On so many levels. She shook her head at the thought and started down the stairs.
“Hold up,” Jay said, moving to block her on the stairs. She stopped and looked at him. “So, you took Krista with you guys to Cuppa last night?”
“Yeah.” She resisted the urge to ask how he’d found out. It sounded suspiciously secretive to her own ears. Besides, she could very well guess where he’d gotten the information. It wasn’t as if she had told their mom not to mention it.
“You think you could spare your little brother some consideration?” At Taryn’s blank look, he sighed. “You could’ve asked me to come to.”
“But you already had plans,” Taryn reasoned. “And besides, her parents…”
“I’m working on that tonight. They’ll want me to marry her by the time we’re done. But you could be a good sister and help me out a little with the rest. Last night could’ve been like a double-date if you’d have invited me.”
“Jay, I told you before, if you’re gonna insist on chasing after her, you’ll have to do it on your own. I’m not comfortable with fooling her into going out with you.”
He glared at her. “I’m not fooling her into anything. I like her, and I just want a chance to go out with her, show her a good time. And it’s not like you’ve never helped me out before. What’s your probl---”
He stopped abruptly as Taryn’s door opened and Krista came out. She stopped short when she saw them both standing on the stairs, and smiled nervously. “Hey guys.”
“Hey. We should head down now,” Taryn replied, and turned to head down the stairs, Jay and Krista following behind her.
**********************************************
Conversation had taken a short hiatus and was replaced with satisfied groans and murmurs of appreciation for the feast that they had in front of them. Mrs. Hoffa seemed to have gone a little overboard in her preparations as there was enough food heaped onto the serving platters to feed four full-sized families. Mrs. Evans shook her head in disbelief and exclaimed again, “This is an amazing amount of food! You didn’t have to go through so much trouble.”
“Family Pantry,” Taryn said. Mrs. Evans looked at her, confused. “You should be thanking Family Pantry.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Evans stammered, not quite sure how to react. Krista stifled a giggle and studiously avoided eye contact with Jay and Taryn, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold out if she did.
Mrs. Hoffa sighed at her oldest child; she did love to stir things up. “Yes, Family Pantry is a wonderful grocery store that also does catering out of their cooked foods department.”
The Evans nodded appreciatively. “You’ll have to tell us where it is,” Mr. Evans commented. “It’s really delicious.”
“Thanks,” Mrs. Hoffa laughed. “And you make excellent hamburgers.”
Jay nodded in agreement. “These are great,” he added around a mouthful of food.
Krista had to agree. Her father was a master griller. She picked up her burger, laden with onions and cheese and BBQ sauce just as she liked it. She glanced around at everyone else munching contentedly. She hated eating in front of people (and it didn’t help that one of those people was someone she was attracted to) and her burger was going to be mess. She turned it around in her hands, trying to think of a good angle from which to tackle it.
She found a spot that seemed to offer the least amount of mess and took a cautious nibble. It was good, but she essentially got all meat and sauce, without the cheese or onion. Man, if I were alone…She started to make another attempt and stopped, feeling as if she were being watched. She looked up and met two pairs of eyes, crinkled in amusement. She returned the gazes with a questioning one of her own. Jay opened his mouth wide and took a giant bite of his burger, chewing with his mouth open and a large smile on his face.
“Oh Jay,” Mrs. Hoffa chided. She glanced nervously at the Evans, but they had little time to react before Taryn followed suit, BBQ sauce dripping down her chin as she struggled to chew her enormous mouthful. Krista started to laugh so hard that she almost dropped her burger. Here were these two people, these really cool people, the kind of people who wouldn’t have given her the time of day at her old school, and they were going out of their way to make her feel comfortable. They actually cared about her comfort. The thought brought her great comfort and she took a bite, a real bite, out of her burger. This time she got all the flavors at once.
***********************************************
The sun was beginning to set on the little gathering. The large citronella candles that the Hoffas kept in their backyard to ward off mosquitoes were lit, and the crew sat once again their lounge chairs, noticeably more relaxed than before their meal. They sat all six in a loose circle, with the adults chatting amicably at one end of the circle, and the young people chatting at the other. Jay and Taryn were regaling Krista with stories about their classmates, with a few tips and pointers here and there about surviving at Alexander High. Their parents were sharing stories of their children's misadventures, and swapping theories about how they keep their offspring out of trouble.
“There's so much out there these days that kids can get into,” Mrs. Evans was lamenting. “I mean, without some sort of constructive outlet, they just find the wrong ways to express themselves or deal with…everything.”
“Hobbies are really helpful,” Mrs. Hoffa added. “It was really important to me that Jay and Taryn develop some sort of hobby, something to keep them busy.”
“Music's a good one,” Mr. Evans said. “I was excited when Krista showed an interest in learning an instrument.”
“How long has she been playing?”
“Since she was 13. She has a natural talent for it.”
“She gets it from her father,” Mrs. Evans said, giving her husband an admiring look. “He plays the piano.”
“Oh, a musical family.” Mrs. Hoffa smiled.
“I'm afraid the musical genes are strictly from his side of the gene pool. I think I might be officially tone deaf,” Mrs. Evans admitted. “But, you must be proud to have two talented musicians in your family.”
“I don't know where they get it from,” Mrs. Hoffa said. “Neither me nor my husband were very musical. But Taryn's been singing since she was a kid, and Jay has always been into music too. I wasn't the least bit surprised when they told me they were forming a band together. I'd figured it was only a matter of time.”
“I'm excited to hear them all play together,” Mr. Evans said. “I almost wish your basement wasn't soundproofed, just so I can listen in on rehearsals. I'm dying of curiosity.”
“Hmm, you might be the only neighbors who feel that way. Before I got the basement done, the only thing people were dying of around here was annoyance. I was afraid I was going to be forced to move.”
“So, how long have they been a band?” Mrs. Evans questioned.
“Umm…Taryn,” Mrs. Hoffa called for her daughter's attention, momentarily stalling their children's conversation. “How long have you guys been playing as a band?”
“A little over a year, I guess. Why?”
“We were just curious,” Mrs. Evans explained. “We're excited to hear you guys play. Do you usually perform a lot?”
“Yeah, from time to time,” Taryn said. Krista stiffened, fearing the direction the conversation seemed to be going in. Taryn glanced at her as if reading her thoughts.
“Oh good. Do you play at school functions?” Mrs. Evans asked, oblivious to the looks the teenagers were sharing.
“Yeah,” she answered.
“Krista said you were recording a demo at some point,” Mr. Evans pointed out.
“Yeah, we are,” Jay answered. “The clubs we’re trying to play at want one. And it’s not a bad idea to keep it updated anyway.”
“Clubs,” Mrs. Evans repeated. “Like bars?”
“Um, sort’ve..but not…really?” Jay glanced uncertainly at Taryn, sensing that maybe he had just tread on bad ground.
Mr. Evans looked from Jay to Taryn in confusion. “Times must have really changed since I was in high school. Last I checked they didn’t let underage kids into bars.” He peered at them closely. “Unless you’re not really teenagers,” he added, his tone suggesting that he might not be entirely joking.
Taryn laughed and stepped up to the plate. “No, actually, we just lucked out. Our old bassist knew some people, and he was able to get us some gigs in local clubs. And they were willing to have us because they knew him and most importantly,” here she glanced at her mother and smiled cheekily, “our mommy brings us.”
Seeing the Evans’ confused looks, Mrs. Hoffa jumped in. “I just decided that if this was something they were really into doing, and they were willing to put as much time and energy into as they were, I could support them in this way. Y’know, it’s really a great way to build a fan base, to get noticed, to get the attention of someone important…” She trailed off.
Krista’s parents glanced at each other. It was hard to tell what they were thinking, and Krista tensed slightly. She would die of embarrassment if her parents made a scene. Her father surprised her by turning to Jay and Taryn and asking, “So, you’re really serious about music? Is this a career path for you then?” They both answered quickly in the affirmative. He smiled. “I remember wanting to be a professional jazz pianist when I was young.”
“Unfortunately for Bill, he had an ear for music, but not necessarily the talent,” Mrs. Evans interjected. She gave her husband an amused smile, which he returned. It was clearly a long-running joke between them.
“Yeah, thank God I got my degree, ‘Just in case.’ Although the computer business these days seems about as risky as trying to be a rock star.”
“Oh, you do computers?” Jay asked.
“Yes. I’m opening a repair and retail shop downtown. Just signed the lease on the building this week.”
“Cool. That’s what I’m going to college for as my back-up. In case it takes a while to get famous,” Jay added jokingly.
“Really? What area of computers are you considering?”
“I’m really digging my programming class this year so far, so that’s my first choice. I like that better than hardware stuff.”
“Townsend offers programming classes?” Mr. Evans asked, his eyes widening. He looked at Krista. “Dale didn’t have that, did they? You should make sure to take at least one while you have a chance and it’s free.” He turned back to Jay and began to query him on the course material. To Krista’s surprise, Jay seemed to be enjoy talking with him about it.
Mrs. Evans recognized that her husband had gone off on a subject that he could talk about for hours, so she turned to the older Hoffa sibling and asked, “How about you, Taryn? You’re a…”
“Senior,” Taryn supplied.
“Right. What happens for you after graduation? College?”
“No. I’m not really sure what’s going to happen. Probably just work for a while.”
Mrs. Evans simply nodded and said, “Hmm. It’s good to know what you really want before investing the time and money college requires.”
Krista and Taryn looked at Mrs. Evans in surprise. Neither had expected that reaction from her. Krista had yet to really talk with her parents about college- she had two years to go after all, and she didn’t know how she felt about it one way or the other- but she had been under the impression that they expected her to go. It had never occurred to her that they might be willing to consider alternatives.
“Wow. Will you be my new mommy?” Taryn joked, shooting a look at her mother.
“Refills on drinks, anyone?” Mrs. Hoffa asked, starting to stand.
Taryn put her hand out to stop her. “I got it.” She rose quickly and retrieved the drink tray from the picnic table. She made a quick circuit of the small gathering, taking the proffered glasses, and disappeared into the house.
Mrs. Hoffa turned to Krista’s mother and asked, “So, how much of Alexander have you gotten to see? And have you taken an opportunity to explore Phoenix?” She began to regale them with information on sightseeing in the area, giving them the names and locations of several must-see landmarks. Soon both of Krista’s parents were engrossed, asking question after question, and Krista could see how she was going to be spending the next few weekends. Taryn and Jay cast her sympathetic glances, and then dived in alongside their mother, offering up their own suggestions while sending devilish looks Krista’s way. When they cheerily suggested to her parents that they check out the Museum of Natural Science, she vowed revenge.
****************************
The last to exit the gate, Mrs. Evans turned to thank their hostess once more. “Thank you again for a lovely dinner.” She extended her hand, intending to shake Mrs. Hoffa’s hand, just as Mrs. Hoffa stepped forward, intending to initiate a less formal embrace. What resulted was an awkward combination of a handshake and a hug, both women clasping each other’s hand and leaning just enough for their shoulders to touch. The uncomfortable exchange was repeated with Mr. Evans. Krista bit back a laugh as Taryn and Jay smacked their foreheads in exaggerated exasperation behind the adults’ backs, ad surprised herself by gamely stepping forward and embracing Mrs. Hoffa when her turn came. “Bye,” she said simply to Jay and Taryn, who replied in kind.
“I’ll be sure to get you that info about the park tomorrow,” Mrs. Hoffa assured Krista’s parents as they turned and headed for the sidewalk.
“Thank you,” Mr. Evans called back.
They gave a final wave before starting the short trek around the corner and back to their own home. Her father finally broke the silence as they rounded the corner by commenting, “Well, that was fun.”
Her mother nodded in agreement. “Yes. Cheryl seems like a very nice person. It’s a shame about her husband, but she seems to be doing really well. Although,” she added, her voice lowering, “there seemed to be some tension about the college thing.” She looked at her daughter encouragingly.
Krista almost laughed out loud. Her mother was such a gossip. “I don’t know anything about it, mom. That’s the first I’d heard of it.”
“Oh,” her mother said, disappointed. Not to be derailed for too long, she turned back to her husband and continued discussing the evening. Krista listened on in anticipation as they chatted about the food and the Hoffas. She was waiting for her parents to get to it, to go ahead and shoot down any hopes she had had about being able to perform with Q. She was still waiting for them to broach the subject when they reached their front door. She stood just inside the doorway, watching them move about the living room. Her father was checking the voicemail, jotting down messages; her mother was turning on lights and straightening cushions. This is it, she thought, and sat in a nearby chair.
“You wanna see if there’s a good movie on tonight?” her mother asked her father, picking up the tv guide.
“Maybe,” he answered, shrugging.
Krista stared open-mouthed at her parents, her face a mask of confusion and disbelief. At this point it seemed unlikely that they were doing anything other than trying to torture her, making her wait it out. Against her better judgment (play it cool, Krista), her mouth opened of its own volition. “What are you guys doing?”
They turned to her in surprise. “What do you mean?” her father returned.
She rolled her eyes and stood, her arms flying out at her sides in frustration. “When are we going to talk about…“ She trailed off, her survival instinct still fighting to keep her from diving into the topic like a kamikaze teen, but she couldn’t fight it. She braced herself and continued. “Look, I know you were there for the conversation, and I know you didn’t mysteriously block out all reference to clubs, so…”
“So, what?” her father asked, seeming genuinely confused.
“So what do you think?!” Krista asked, her voice almost at a yell. The suspense was killing her, and she was swimming in unfamiliar waters. It wasn’t like her parents to beat around the bush.
Her parents looked at each other in astonishment, “Are you serious?” her mother asked.
“Yeah,” Krista replied, her voice quieter now. A feeling had started- an unpleasant, hopeless feeling. She suddenly understood why they hadn’t bothered to bring it up, and her mother’s next words confirmed her thought.
“Krista, there’s absolutely no way we’re going to allow our 16 year-old daughter to play in a bar.” Her mother spoke the words as if she were talking to a slow-witted five-year-old, and although Krista felt very small at that moment, she wasn’t about to give up just yet.
“Come on,” she argued, struggling to keep a whine out of her voice, “didn’t you hear a word they said? Cheryl goes along with them. It’s not like it’s unsupervised or something.”
“We did hear that,” Janice said in that same infuriating tone, “and that may be fine and well for Mrs. Hoffa,” here she gave Krista a pointed look, “and it may be the way she chooses to raise her children, and I’m not one to criticize another’s parenting, but… it’s not the way we do things around here.”
“You mean, you’re just dismissing the idea without any discussion. It’s a done deal,” Krista stated, her voice pitched high in disbelief.
Bill cocked his head to one side, regarding his daughter. “We didn’t think we needed to discuss anything. I can’t believe that you’d think we’d actually consider it.”
“What am I going to tell them?!” Her parents stared at her blankly. She decided to try one more tactic. “It’s not even that many gigs. It’s like one or two a year or something.”
“All the more reason that it shouldn’t be a big deal if you can’t play those one or two a year.” She stared open-mouthed at her father, her disappointment etched into her face. Of all people---He was a musician; he’d played in clubs at her age, so she had thought that he would at least be somewhat understanding.
In a show of parental telepathy he added, “I know I played out a little when I was younger, but times are different, and I have to approach this as a parent, not a musician.”
“You could’ve at least been sensitive about it,” she said, not looking at him.
He winced. “I’m sorry, Button.”
“You’re 16, Kris. There’s really no question,” her mother said firmly, putting the final nail in the coffin.
She gazed at her parents for a moment before sighing and heading up to her room. She fumed as she headed down the hall, resisting the strong urge to stomp her feet, and once inside her room, to slam the door. Instead she shut it quietly and sat on her bed, looking at the poster of the band Sapphire that her friends had gotten her for her birthday last year. As she stared at it, tracing the lines of the photograph, she made up her mind. She was not going to tell the others about this setback. They had said it was only a couple of shows, if they even got those. So, she would wait. If they didn’t get the gigs, great. If they did…she would find a way.
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ETA: I went back to fix a bad tag, and it erased everything and promptly told me no HTML something allowed. All I did was add a "/" to close off one of the ezcodes. *shrug*
Edited by: Big Dummy at: 11/18/04 8:25 pm
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