The Dating Game

Chapter Nineteen

Justin

It was as soon as Mrs Walker proclaimed at the end of the lesson that we'd be spending a lot more time with our partners did it deter me – but not because of the fact it was with Juliet.

That was the only excellent part in this mock we're doing for Music.

There was a flaw in this oh-so exceptionally thought-through idea, however, and that flaw corresponded to me exclusively.

Music was a passion of mine. I adored playing the guitar, drums and the piano. But without Dad and his parents, I haven't touched an instrument in a long time since they left. I've sang here or there – mainly when I've been home alone – and I've produced new lyrics, but without any music to play it to, what's the use?

My fingers consistently itched from the detachment from piano keys or guitar strings. My ears rang sometimes from my history of playing my drums rather obscenely stridently and bashing down on the different parts. Mom actually grounded me once for playing too deafeningly and making me the culprit of her headache.

I kept the lyrics I've previously written on my laptop which no one else goes on. They weren't much – just a few verses here or there I've thought of and had to note them down somewhere. But they've never gone further than that. I've never produced an actual song full of lyrics because you need the music to assist you. But no one knew I enjoyed singing anyway. That I kept under my belt.

Walking home, I kept my head down. Jazmyn had to go off to work and Mom was hopefully actively finding a job. When I did get home, I slammed the door shut to our apartment and scoped the area. My chest deflated at the sight; I abhorred residing here. I wish we could move. I wish we had the money to afford something nice. I wish Dad hadn't have left us with near-to nothing.

About to step, the tip of my boot scuffed something. I looked down to see the post. Evidently, Mom hasn't been home all day which only meant one thing really: She hasn't been able to find a job. If she found one, she'd be home by now. I guess with minimal qualifications and good qualities it really would be rather complicated to be employable.

Bending down, I picked up the post and sauntered into the kitchen, heaving a sigh. I discarded the post on the counter top until the one on top caught my attention just as I was about to depart to my room. It was addressed to me. I snatched it up and opened it hastily. I read it quietly under my breath.

"'Dear Mr. Bieber, an account was been set up in your name from your father, Jeremy Bieber when you were born. It is free to access at any time with your card sealed below now due to being nearly eighteen and Jeremy Bieber has activated it. Also look at your pin number, too. Just start using the card to activate.'"

Enclosed in the envelope, there was another piece of paper. The top half was an advertisement for other diverse types of accounts the bank offers and on the bottom half was my bank balance. Gasping involuntarily, my throat constricted. On the original piece, the card was stuck on the bottom half. Tearing it off, the pin number was revealed underneath. My stomach was churning with trepidation. Can this really be happening? Does Jazmyn have one, too?

In the heat of the moment, I shuffled through all of the other post sent to find another letter for Jazmyn. It didn't look dissimilar to the one I received. I kept that one in my hand and searched through the post again. Mom didn't get one, but there was another addressed to me. The handwriting on the front of the envelope looked curiously comparable to my own handwriting. It was slightly messy, however. Repeatedly, I tore it open.

"'Dear Justin and Jazmyn," I read quietly, "you two can't contact me, but this is for both of you. Think of it as many years of Christmas and birthday presents that have accumulated to this point. They were originally going to be saved for both of your eighteenth birthday, but I figured now was as good as a time as any other. I know this won't repair the trust or forgiveness that was ruptured when I left, but hopefully this is a start. I do both love you two. Love from, Dad.'"