White Houses- Chapter 2 (WIP)

          I dreaded going home for the rest the week. Things couldn’t have been going better in my classes, and Trent and I had made our relationship known to everyone, much to the delight of Jenny.
         While everyone else went out to the club that Friday night, Trent took me to dinner and a movie. I was perfectly content watching Brad Pitt onscreen with my head on Trent’s shoulder and my hand in his.
         “I wish I didn’t have to go home tomorrow morning,” I said as we stood in the hall between our doors at the end of the night.
         “Yeah, well, better to get it over with, right?” he asked, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
         “I guess…”
         The scene replayed itself early the next morning as I placed my dirty laundry basket in the trunk.
         “I wish you weren’t going,” Jenny said. Heather nodded her agreement.
         I closed the trunk and leaned on the bumper. “Jeez, I’m only staying one night.”
         “We’ll make up for it next weekend,” Heather said.
         Trent came to kiss me goodbye. I thought about my new friends all the way home. I’d grown closer to them in a week and a half than I had to people I’d known since elementary school. Trent was the most amazing guy I’d ever met…
         I realized suddenly that my parents would ask if I had a boyfriend yet. I dreaded telling them. They always made such a big deal about things like that. I knew they would automatically disapprove of his lip ring, his tattoo, his band.
         I was still planning my rebuttal as I pulled into the driveway. I stared at my house for a long moment, surprised that I had barely gotten homesick.
         I found the front door unlocked but no one inside. I set my bag down and called out. Megan, my younger sister, came shuffling from the kitchen. “Where’s Mom and Dad?”
         “Dad had a meeting or something,” she said, flopping down on the couch and turning on the TV. “And Mom’s not here.”
         “I can see that. Where is she?”
         “I don’t know. She went away for the weekend.” My annoyed look pressed her to give more information. “She and Dad got into a really big fight last night. Dad told her not to leave because you were coming home, but she was so upset she left anyway.” She told the story flatly, with no expression. It wasn’t the first time Mom had left for the weekend and Dad had a “meeting or something.” Every time it happened it took a greater toll on us.
         I wanted to call each of my parents and scream at them to come home and work it out. Running never solved anything. But I knew I had to keep my anger in check and be a good older sister. “It’ll be all right,” I said, taking a seat next to Megan and putting an arm around her shoulder. “They’ll work it out. They always do.” Was I trying to convince her or myself?
         “It was really bad this time,” she whispered, still staring intently at the TV.
         I didn’t know what to say. I knew each time this happened they got one step closer to divorce. Megan knew it, too.
         After watching TV for a few minutes I knew I had to do something to try to cheer her up. I offered to take her to Scorpio’s, her favorite pizza place, for lunch.
         As we walked to the car I was suddenly overtaken by a powerful sibling instinct. “Megan,” I said, placing a hand on each of her shoulders and looking her square in the eye, “you know I’m always here for you. Whenever you need me, you can just call, you know?”
         “I know.”

* * *

         I called Trent that evening. No word had come from either of my parents, so the call was a welcome distraction. After talking for a few minutes he ran across the hall and put Jenny on the phone, who rambled on about how excited she was about Adam’s party next week.
         After she wore herself out, I announced, to her surprise, that I wouldn’t be coming back until Monday. “There’s some problems going on here, and I think it’d be better if I stayed another night.”
         “Oh. Wanna talk about it?”
         “No. Not really.”
         “Oh, okay. Well, I’ll put Trent back on. I’ve used enough of his minutes.”
         He was disappointed that I wouldn’t be coming back tomorrow, but said he understood. “My parents fought all the time. The only thing that kept me sane was my older brother.”
         “How did you know my parents were fighting?”
         “I didn’t, I was just saying what happened to me. Why, is that what’s happening?”
         I didn’t want to tell him, but what good did hiding it do? I knew he’d find out eventually anyway. At least I’d have someone who knew what I was going through.

* * *

         My dad came home later that night. He hugged me a brief moment, said he was sorry for not being here when I got home and, claiming exhaustion, promptly went to bed.
         I went out with Mandy and some other friends. The difference between them and the gang back at school was startling. We went to a movie (the same one I’d seen the night before with Trent) and then dinner.
         Mandy had elected to live at home while going to college, as had most of the others, so much of the dinner conversation involved them pressing me for information about life on campus. Their perception of what it was like amused me. They believed it was a constant party with a class here and there. I quickly set them straight.
         I didn’t want to tell them about Trent because I knew they’d react the same way my parents would once they heard. When it came out in conversation, Mandy was angry that I hadn’t told them sooner.
         “It’s new, and I don’t want to make a big deal out of it yet,” I lied. Truth was, I was dying to tell people about him- I just had to find people who wouldn’t automatically dismiss him.
         They readily accepted the lie and dove into interrogating me about him. Mandy couldn’t hear enough about him; she found him wild and potentially dangerous, a far cry from all the guys we’d grown up with, and he exhilarated her.
         “I can’t wait for you to meet him, so you can see he’s not dangerous at all,” I said, laughing. Deep down, I was confident he’d never purposely hurt me.

* * *

         My mom came home late Sunday night. I thought I’d never break free of the embrace she gave me.
         We all sat down around the kitchen table, a bowl of ice cream in front of each of us. “So, honey, how’s school?” my mom asked, trying desperately to make conversation.
         “It’s good, or she’d be complaining,” my dad replied flatly.
         “I didn’t ask you, Richard!”
         “Mom! Dad! At least pretend to get along!” I pleaded, exasperated. Megan kept her eyes fixed on her bowl. Never before had I so fervently wished I was somewhere else.
         They both fell silent, my mom looking sad and my father looking angry. I knew later, after we’d left the table and gone our separate ways, they she would cry and he would angrily grumble that no, nothing was wrong. I wanted to run and forget everything and have Trent hold me in his arms.
         Later that night I found Megan in her room listlessly reading a magazine. Cosmo Girl. It made me think of Jenny and brought a smile to my face.
         Megan looked tiredly at me as I sat next to her on the bed. The pain in her eyes was evident. I started to say something in an attempt to cheer her up, but she interrupted me. “You’ve got a boyfriend, don’t you?”
         “Yeah, I do,” I said, unable to hide my smile. “His name’s Trent.”
         “Tell me about him.” She tossed the magazine aside and sat tensely, anticipating.
         I told her about the first time we met, the night at the club minus my intoxication (she was only fifteen and didn’t need to know anyway), and the night of the concert. She was captivated as I told her about Random Task. She went to the same high school I did, and had never met anyone in a band before.
         “That is so cool,” she said when I was done. “You’re dating someone in a band! I can’t believe it.”
         I laughed. “Why?”
         “Because…I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like you.”
         It was true. I wouldn’t have believed it myself. But I assured her that Trent wasn’t the stereotypical sex, drugs and rock-and-roll band member.
         She fell silent, the joy of the conversation suddenly gone. She was still agonizing over the fight, I knew. When I looked in her eyes I found resentment mixed with the pain. I put an arm around her. When I was her age, their fights had made me hate them so intensely I wished they were dead. But I always took it back. The look in Megan’s eyes gave me an uneasy feeling that she would do something worse than hate them.

* * *

         I was overjoyed to be back in the routine of school. My parents didn’t call me all week, and I made no attempt to call them either. From my steady stream of email with Megan I gathered things were still bad between them. I felt bad for her, there all alone and stuck in the middle. Even though I had great people to occupy my time and take my mind away from my family, my mind drifted back to the problems in the quiet moments before I fell asleep.
         Adam’s party on Saturday became the light at the end of the tunnel. Jenny spoke of it every chance she could. That and how quickly she was falling in love with him. I felt as though I couldn’t keep up with her. While she was falling in love I was left wondering what exactly that was. Was I in love with Trent and unaware of it?
         I didn’t have the answer as I rode with him to Adam’s party. But I wasn’t worried about it at the moment, either. The only sound was the radio playing softly. Our entwined hands rested on the shifter. I wanted the drive to last forever.
         The silence was shattered by music and voices as we rounded a bend and Adam’s house came into view. Jenny hadn’t exaggerated when she had called it a mansion. On a large plot of land with its two stories and large white columns it looked straight out of the Antebellum South. Cars overflowed the driveway onto the lawn, where dozens of people mingled.
         Trent found an unoccupied space of grass to park on and ran around to my side of the car to open the door. “This house is ridiculous,” he said, taking my hand and leading me through the maze of cars and people to the front door. I nodded my agreement. My own house was big, but Adam’s was massive.
         The first thing I saw when we entered the living room was Jenny sitting on the arm of the couch, Budweiser in hand. Clearly already halfway to being drunk, she raised the can and shouted a slurred greeting to us. Anna and Charlotte were seated on the coffee table. A slightly chubby blonde guy sat next to Jenny with Heather in his lap.
         “You’ve got to be David,” Trent said as we reached them. “At least, I hope you are,” he added jokingly.
         “Sure am.” David offered his hand, the joke gone. “And you are…”
         “Trent. And this is Katie.”
         “Oh, I see. Heather’s told me a lot about you two.”
         I squeezed Trent’s hand, getting the uneasy feeling that David was high.
         “Have you seen Adam?” Jenny asked, tossing her empty beer can carelessly aside.
         “No. You’ll be lucky to find him in this place.”
         “Sit down, stay a while.” David motioned to an empty spot on the floor in front of the couch.
         Trent sat cross-legged and motioned for me to sit in his lap. By now I was positive David was high. I don’t know why I was surprised that someone was. Jenny reached behind the couch and pulled two Buds out of a hidden cooler and gave one to each of us.
         I was on my second can when Adam appeared.
         “You guys should come on in to the game room. We’ve got music playing and a pool tournament started.”
         I marveled at the game room, which was furnished with a plasma TV, a pool table, three pinball machines and an air hockey table.
         “Holy shit, Adam,” Trent said. “It’s practically an arcade!” Adam shrugged, a look of slight embarrassment on his face.
         Trent and I started a pinball war. He kept his arms around my waist as I played. “I am totally killing you!” I exclaimed as I turned the machine over to him.
         “Beginner’s luck, dear, beginner’s luck,” he said with a kiss.
         He’d just ended his first round when a girl standing in the doorway caught his eye. He stared at her for a moment that seemed, at least to me, to last a lifetime, a mix of shock and pleasure on his face. As soon as he noticed he was staring he diverted his eyes back to the game.
         “Who is that?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t stupid enough to think I hadn’t noticed. Instead of answering, he pretended to be completely immersed in the game. When it was over, I asked again, more stern this time.
         He leaned against the pinball machine, his hands at my waist. “Just someone I dated in high school for a while,” he answered hastily. “It’s nothing.”
         I took a long sip of my beer, a small fire of hatred starting to burn in me. “I see.” I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye. Tall, skinny, blonde. Almost too skinny and too blonde. But beautiful nonetheless.
         “Don’t worry, Katie,” Trent said, pulling me towards him. “My relationship with her is completely in the past.”
         I turned to look at her just as she noticed Trent. Our eyes met in a deadlock. Without saying anything to her friends she began walking towards us. Trent didn’t let go of me, but his spine straightened noticeably.
         “Hello, Trent,” she said happily when she reached us.
         “Hello Michelle.” He tried to match her happiness but couldn’t.
         She smiled, thrust her hand out to me and introduced herself. “And you are…”
         “Katie. Trent’s girlfriend.” I put added emphasis on the word.
         “I see,” she said, still smiling. I took in her clothes, which seemed to be designer, and her Tiffany necklace. A rich, spoiled brat more than likely. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, Trent.” He only nodded uncomfortably.
         His uneasiness grew as she went off on a one-sided conversation about school and her father’s new Hummer. My spoiled brat impression was dead on.
         I hated her already. And I let Trent know it as soon as she left us alone.
         “That makes two of us.”
         “She seems so fake.”
         “She is.” He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me square in the eyes. “Don’t worry about her, Katie. Forget her. I have. I want to be with you.,” he added with a kiss.
         “Good, and I want another beer.”
         He laughed and took my hand. In our quest for more alcohol we found Heather and David on the front porch.
         “Beer? Well, I guess I could give you one,” Heather said, her words slurring together.
         I never remembered how, but somehow I got from the front porch to Trent’s backseat, my drunkenness increasing along the way.
         “What are you looking for?” Trent asked, leaning on the open car door.
         I crawled onto the black leather seat and searched under the front seats. Nothing. Suddenly I couldn’t remember what exactly I was looking for. I put my back against the driver’s side door and looked at Trent. “I don’t remember,” I laughed. “I don’t remember,” I repeated, my laughter building uncontrollably.
         Trent laughed, too, and crawled inside, closing the door behind him. I caught the faint scent of gasoline in the summer heat and wondered where it was coming from. Suddenly he was on top of me, kissing my neck. I laughed and let him. When I felt his hand at my belt buckle, I shot out my own and put a death grip on it.
         “I am not that drunk,” I said, my laughter stopping.
         Quickly he pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry,” he said, sitting up, though he had to keep his back hunched so he wouldn’t hit his head. “I’m really sorry.” His voice was genuine, and I rewarded him with a kiss.
         I was suddenly very tired. Sliding down so I could lie on the seat, I motioned for him to join me. It was cramped, lying there with him in the backseat, but I didn’t mind. My eyes were closing as I decided that I probably did love him.

* * *

         Slowly I opened my eyes, the light coming in through the window painfully bright. I looked at the clock. Past noon. The room, with its vanity and large double doors leading to a balcony, was unfamiliar. I was alone in a large four-post bed. Panic began to rise in me. Where was I?
         Adam’s voice floated in through the door that had been left ajar, and I remembered. But I didn’t know what I was doing alone in a gigantic bedroom. I stayed still for a while, trying to recall what had happened last night. The only two things that came to mind were Michelle with her long blonde hair and Trent’s backseat. I prayed he didn’t hate me for refusing him.
         As if thinking of him could make him appear, he stuck his head in the room. “Good, you’re up,” he said softly.
         He was wearing only a pair of jeans, and for the first time I noticed a deep scar over his heart. “Trent, come here,” I said, holding out my arms for him.
         He moved slowly to the bed, then climbed under the sheets next to me. We faced each other, mere inches apart. He reached out and draped an arm over my waist.
         “You’re not mad at me, are you? You can’t be mad at me,” I whispered.
         “I’m not.”
         “Trent, you just have to understand that losing my virginity in the backseat of a car while drunk is not something I’ve dreamed about,” I spoke quickly, but my breath caught in my throat. I’d revealed my secret. But he only nodded, genuine understanding in his eyes. “So don’t think that, you know, I don’t want to be with you, because I do, and-”
         He reached out a hand and put his fingertips to my lips to quiet me. “I never thought that.”
         “Don’t lie.”
         He smiled. “Okay, I was a little disappointed at the time.” He reached out a hand and ran his fingers through my tangled hair, his expression turning serious. “But I would have hated myself if we’d gone through with it.”
         I shifted over so he could hold me in his arms. “So…what’s the deal with Michelle?”
         “You had to ask.”
         “Of course I had to ask. I want to know about a girl who can capture your attention like that.”
         He turned over on his back, keeping an arm around me. “I dated her for a year and a half. She was my first girlfriend. I lost my virginity to her. I thought, at one point, that I’d marry her.”
         “What happened?”
         “The band was playing at a New Year’s Eve party a friend of ours was throwing last year. After the first set, she pulled me aside and broke up with me.”
         “Why?”
         “I’m still not sure. She gave some lame excuse about the band and college or something. I almost couldn’t do the second set because I was so upset. Angry more than anything, really. Angry at myself for doing something to push her away, even though I had no idea what that was.”
         “But she seems so…” I groped for a word that wasn’t too harsh.
         “Conceited? Bitchy? She’s everything you think she is, and that’s why I’m glad to see her gone. I won’t lose any sleep if I never see her again.”
         We lay in silence for a moment. I had a hard time imagining Trent loving a girl like Michelle. My hatred for her intensified after learning she’s hurt him. But I kept quiet.
         “So…all’s well?”
         “All’s perfect,” I answered, giving him a kiss.
         “No hangover this time?”
         “I’ve had worse.”
         “Good. Let’s go get something to eat.”
         We found everyone downstairs in the kitchen, including Anna and Charlotte, which I found odd because I didn’t remember seeing them the night before, even though they insisted they had been there. Jenny sat at the counter, her head in her hands.
         “She’s got a bad hangover,” Adam mouthed to us.
         I nodded understandingly. I rummaged through Adam’s kitchen, the ugly parts of the night before forgotten.