by Caisey Quinn
When it was time to practice marching, Kylie returned her attention to not letting her heels dig into the damp ground. Later, at the actual ceremony, when everyone gathered to take photos with their family members, when there were supposed to be hugs, and tears, and congratulations, there would be nothing. Just empty space on the football field where she’d stand alone. Lulu’s mom would drag her into their family pictures, and she’d probably go to dinner with them. But the one person she wanted to be there never would be again.
Kylie looked down at the long line of soon to be high school graduates and a new lyric came to mind.
What the hell am I doing here?
3
AFTER GRADUATION, the first half of summer was pretty much a blur. Kylie waitressed full-time at Pam’s Country Kitchen, taking all the hours she could get and using her downtime to scrawl her usual lyrics, doodled guitars, and random musings onto the margins of receipts and whatever else happened to be lying around. Lulu worked part-time in the diner as well, using her free time to keep up her constant diatribe on the mental shortcomings of the small town’s population.
One evening when a lively group of kids from the class behind them came into the restaurant where she and Lulu worked, her friend went into a particularly heated rant about the water in Pride destroying brain cells.
She always laughed politely at Lulu’s comments but secretly Kylie was a little bit envious. She wondered what it would be like for your biggest concern to be whether or not your lipgloss matched your sweater or if the quarterback was going to ask you to homecoming.
Meanwhile, she was doing the math on whether or not her paycheck from waitressing was going to be enough to keep the power on.
Darla only worked Saturdays answering phones at Candi’s Curl up and Dye and Kylie knew the new income from Hooter’s wouldn’t go towards bills or groceries. The life insurance money from Kylie’s dad would’ve been helpful if Darla hadn’t spent it on Botox, lipo, and a new wardrobe.
Whatever. No use stressing about what she couldn’t control. But ever since Pam’s had added a serve yourself all you can eat buffet for 8.99, tips had all but disappeared. Her scattered figures jotted beside her most recent lyrics said she could keep the power on if she skipped lunch every day this week.
Or she could dip into her Nashville savings.
No. She’d rather starve.
She’d been saving up for that trip for months.
Kylie’s stomach growled as she was assaulted by scent of Pam’s most famous entrees. Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, and some sort of vegetable casserole that had a somewhat unhealthy cheese to vegetable ratio.
As she lowered herself onto the seat across from Lulu on their dinner break, she avoided even glancing at their cheese fries and chicken fingers. Mmm, grease.
Pam’s only allowed one free meal per day and Kylie had taken hers at lunch. Dinner would be a sweet tea and a few packs of saltines.
“So, I’m supposed to go visit my dad this summer,” Lulu piped up, sliding her cheese fries towards the center of the table.
“No shit?” Kylie asked, swiping a fry and shooting her friend a grateful smile.
“Yeah, first two weeks in July then the twins are going the last two weeks.”
“July, seriously? What about Nashville?” It took all of Kylie’s self-restraint to keep the whine out of her voice.
“Told you,” Carmen muttered under her breath. Carmen was Lulu’s cousin who frequently popped in to hang out with them. She worked at the nail salon across the street. Kylie never could figure out if the girl actually liked her or not.
“I know, Kylie, the amateur showcase at The Rum Room is coming up but my dad like rearranged his whole schedule and I just—”
“Could you go the second two weeks instead, or just a week later?”
“Kylie…” Lulu began.
“No, it’s okay,” Kylie said quietly, swallowing the lump threatening to form in her throat. “I understand.”
Lulu gave her a sympathetic smile. “There’s always next summer and I promise there will be other showcases and—”
“Don’t, seriously. It’s fine. I get it.” She stood from the table to excuse herself to the ladies room where she could breakdown in peace.
They’d been planning their trip since before Christmas. Nashville had been the only thing getting her through this nightmare that was life post-dad. Not it was gone too.
But yeah, Kylie thought, if I could have my dad back, I’d take him up on the offer too instead of tagging along to watch my friend choke at open mic night.
Lu was still apologizing and begging her not to be mad by the end of their shift. Kylie wasn’t mad, just a little forlorn at the familiar feeling of loss.
Her dad had helped her find the best places to sign up for open calls. In Nashville, some of the waitlists backed up for months. Night after night they’d played guitar on the porch as he taught her about music. Bridges, and lyrics, and choruses of songs they’d made up over the years flitted through her head. The way he’d always wake her up with his guitar singing Happy Birthday at 5:38 a.m. on the exact minute she was born. It wouldn’t be long before she turned nineteen. But he wouldn’t be there.
By the time she arrived home that night, Kylie was itching to grab her guitar. To feel the firm neck beneath her hands and the sting of the strings on her fingers. Attempting to shrug off the disappointment from the canceled trip, Kylie warmed up and then started in on the song she’d been working on since graduation. It felt like the first time she’d been able to breathe all day.
While she sung the line What the hell are we doing here? slightly modified so as not to plagiarize from Radiohead, she had an idea. A dangerous and maybe impossible one.
There was no reason for her to stay home in hillbilly hell with Darla while Lu went off to L.A.
Something in her snapped loose and flew out of her grasp. A secret she’d been keeping. From Darla, even from Lulu. Maybe even from herself. Without Lulu coming along, it seemed stupid to keep it in now.
She’d never planned to come back from Nashville.
After she performed at The Rum Room’s amateur night, Kylie was going to apply for waitressing jobs anywhere and everywhere. Get a crappy studio apartment and work like crazy until she had enough money to make a demo. She had a little money saved up that Darla didn’t know about and it would probably be enough to hold her over for nearly a month.
Her dad had always said that when it came to pursuing your dreams, if it didn’t scare the crap out of you, you probably weren’t dreaming big enough.
Kylie took a deep breath and smiled while setting her the secondhand guitar her father had bought her at an auction aside. Normally she wouldn’t quit in the middle of a song, but now she had research to do.
4
AFTER PRACTICALLY skipping to the local library to use the Internet, Kylie trudged out of it. Most of the apartments, even the shady ones in Nashville, were way more than she could afford. Plus all the websites said they did credit check. Since the bills were all in Kylie’s name, thanks to Darla, she was pretty sure her credit was majorly screwed.
She’d gone shopping with Lulu and Carmen the following day. Seeing her friend so dejected, Lulu had launched into a doze rounds of “I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to yous,” but Kylie just shook her head. She didn’t say much on the way home, not because she was angry, but because there just wasn’t anything left to say. It was what it was. Carmen sat in the backseat, smirking.
Kylie suspected Lulu’s cousin was jealous of their friendship and was seriously enjoying the tension between them now. Kylie pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail and glanced at Carmen in the pull down mirror on the sun visor. There was so much she wanted to tell her.
She wanted to tell Carmen to grow up, that Lulu could have more than one friend and she desperately wanted Lu to know she wasn’t mad at her. But the words just weren’t there, just like in the recurring dream where she couldn’t remember the
words to her songs moments before going on stage. This was why she liked music. A song could say everything you wanted to and then some. But just talking and hashing out emotions, ugh. The very thought gave Kylie a migraine.
“Whoa, whose badass truck is that?” Lulu asked when they pulled into Kylie’s drive.
“Oh, ugh, Darla’s new guy I guess.” The shiny, black Silverado sat a little crooked in the driveway. Kylie’s dad’s truck, well Darla’s truck now, was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, um, Ky, is it like, safe for you to be here alone with him?” Lulu bit her lip.
“What?” Kylie opened her door and started to head to the trunk to retrieve her guitar. “No, it’s fine. He seems okay enough.” Kylie really wished Lulu would shut up and not bring up—
“Just don’t want to leave you in another Leo situation.”
Well, so much for that.
“Who’s Leo?” Carmen asked as she slid out of the backseat and up to the front.
“Nobody,” Kylie tried to break in but she wasn’t quick enough.
“He was one of Darla’s sugar daddies,” Lulu explained. “One day he came by and Kylie was home alone and he like, totally tried to put the moves on her.”
“Eww,” Carmen groaned, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“Okay, well, thanks again for the ride, Lu. Bye now.” Kylie shrugged her guitar across her shoulder and rapped her knuckles on the hood of her friend’s brand new Volvo—at least she wasn’t opposed to accepting gifts from her dad.
She was about to use her key to open her front door but it was unlocked. Her stomach clenched and the muscles in her neck tightened. Please, dear God, do not let this Jake guy be like Leo.
Her dad had spent a lot of money on her guitar and she really didn’t want to have to smash it over this guy’s head.
Jake looked slightly startled to see Kylie coming through the door.
“Hey there Dar…lin,” he corrected.
“Um, hey,” Kylie greeted him. Her eyes scanned the room. He was just sitting casually on the couch with a can of beer in his hand. Sports Center blared from the television.
“Guess Darla’s still at work?”
“Yeah, guess so,” Kylie answered as she headed towards her room.
“You play?” The broad man with a slight paunch above his belt gestured to Kylie’s guitar case. He had the former high school football has been build of so many local guys.
“Nah, I just like to carry this around ‘cause it looks cool.” Kylie almost clamped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t know this guy from Adam and they were alone. What if he was a violent drunk or something?
Thankfully, Jake just laughed. His bright blue eyes sparkled and his cheeks pinked. Kylie wondered how old he was. Thirty maybe? Possibly younger. Part of her was dying to ask why he was screwing around with Darla when she’d seen him in town with a woman that looked like a freaking supermodel and a little girl that looked like an angel. Not that it was any of her business.
“You play?” she asked him, praying the answer was no and that he wouldn’t want to touch her guitar.
“A little, not as well as my brother does.” There was a noticeable bitter edge on the word brother.
“Oh.”
“So you take lessons or something?”
“Uh, my dad taught me before he…” She shrugged instead of finishing. Whatever, Kylie just wanted out of the living room. The walls were closing in and she felt like Jake was sucking up all the oxygen.
“Ah.” Jake glanced away and stared at the can in his hand. Kind of looked like he wanted to disappear. The feeling was mutual.
Kylie didn’t know what to say so she said the worst thing possible.
“Maybe you could teach your daughter to play.” She hadn’t meant to sound bitchy, but Jake looked like she’d slapped him.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“I um, have to get ready for work so…”
“How old are you?”
Oh no. Her stomach sank.
“Eighteen.”
“Just graduated and you’re already working, huh?”
“Yes, sir.” Maybe if she was really formal and polite he wouldn’t try to get too friendly.
“Man, I at least got to take the summer off to have a good time.”
“Must be nice.” Kylie threw him a smile and practically jogged to her bedroom. She changed into her khaki works pants and white shirt. Pinned her nametag on and grabbed the half apron she’d tie on once she got to Pam’s. It was a fifteen minute walk to work and she didn’t want to look like a total fool on the way. She darted into the kitchen and grabbed an off-brand Coke from the fridge.
Jake was still sitting on the couch as she passed through.
“How’d you know I had a daughter?” he asked quietly. Kylie startled and dropped her soda can. She briefly considered pretending she hadn’t heard him but the drink rolling across the floor made it pretty obvious she had.
“I play at The Tavern sometimes and I’ve seen you and your um, family there before,” she stuttered as she bent to retrieve her drink from the floor. Great, now things were exactly as awkward as possible.
Jake’s eyes hazed over and for a minute he looked straight through her.
“Well, I’m sure Darla will be here soon.” Actually Kylie had no idea about Darla’s schedule and no reason to really care much about it.
“Yeah, hey, look, it’s not what you think.”
“Whoa, hey.” Kylie turned her hands palm up, still grasping her apron and her drink. “Totally none of my business.”
If you want to be a two-timing creep, knock yourself out.
“Okay, yeah, you’re right. Sorry I keep hassling you—you just remind me of someone.”
“No problem, see ya around.” Kylie cracked the tab on her can and was immediately covering in spewing foam. A surprised gurgle escaped from her throat as the fountain of carbonated soda sprayed around her.
Great, this day was just destined to get worse with each passing moment.
“Oh, hell. Hang on a sec,” Jake said.
Kylie was pretty sure he was barely holding back a burst of laughter. She looked down at her white work shirt, her only work shirt. It was covered in large brown wet spots.
Jake had taken off his blue t-shirt and was using it to wipe up the mess in the floor. Kylie couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. Maybe to keep from crying.
Or maybe she was losing her mind. Yeah, that was probably it. She grabbed some wet paper towels from the kitchen, did what she could with the spots on her shirt. In the living room Jake stood in a white tank top the guys she’d gone to high school with called a “wife beater”, still assessing the damage her coke had done. Kylie tried to get the stickiness off the hardwood but knew she was probably missing some of it.
“I have to go to work now or I’m going to be late,” she said turning to where Jake was wiping the coffee table. She tossed him a paper towel. “How does my shirt look?”
“Um, like a can of soda exploded on it?” he offered.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Damn. She was already late and now she’d have to get another shirt, which would cut ten dollars from her paycheck.
“Hey, I practically live in my truck, let me see if I’ve got something you can wear.”
Before Kylie could decline Jake’s offer, he was out the door. She spent a few more minutes cleaning up the mess, gulping down the soda that survived the explosion and tossing the can in the garbage.
“Here, try this.” Jake held a white oxford-style button up in his arms as he crossed through the front doorway. It was pretty similar to Kylie’s work shirt, just didn’t have Pam’s embroidered on it in red.
“Thanks, it’s actually kind of perfect,” Kylie told him as she pulled off her shirt, and then began buttoning his over her white tank. It was way too big but she could roll up the sleeves and tie it up in the back.
“No problem, kid—”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Darla shrie
ked as she stepped in behind Jake.
5
DARLA’S OUTRAGED glare spun from Kylie to Jake and then back to Kylie. Jake was in a tight under shirt, Kylie was buttoning his shirt over herself and everything was sticky. Yeah, this looks pretty bad, Kylie thought to herself.
“Um, Kelli here spilled her coke so I—”
“You stupid little whore. Get the hell out of my house,” Darla seethed in Kylie’s face.
“Darla, Jesus. Calm down. It’s not what it looks like. I got coke on my work shirt so Jake—”
“I mean it, Kylie. Get the fuck out now,” Darla snarled, eyes burning into Kylie’s. This must be what pure hatred looks like, Kylie thought. Her step-mother was practically vibrating with rage and Kylie’s adrenaline surged in response.
Jake tried to help her case. “She’s just a kid for Christ’s sake, we didn’t—”
“Shut the hell up, Jake. You don’t know what this little slut is capable of.” Darla spewed venom all over the living room, its projectile like that of the coke before it. “Or maybe you do,” she finished, eying Jake’s bare arms.
“You’re a freaking psycho, you know that?” Kylie screamed back.
“Don’t test me, Kylie. I let the shit go with Leo but you will get out of this house right fucking now. And do not come back here or I will burn everything you own and everything your dad ever touched.”
“Darla—”
“Try me, you little cunt. Please try me.” Darla closed her eyes and Kylie watched her nostrils flair.
Tears burned in Kylie’s eyes. No one had ever spoken to her this way. And the thought of Darla burning her dad’s things made bile rise in her throat.
“Let me grab my stuff and then I’m gone. I swear.” Kyle sprinted into her room, grabbing the few items she couldn’t live without. She threw some clothes and a picture of her and her dad into her guitar case along with the $1200 she’d stashed and the notebook she’d filled with lyrics. The guitar case was full so she threw her dad’s faded gray Naval Academy hoodie over her head, even though it was nearly eighty degrees out.
