Once Upon A Dime (hiatus)

5. Secrets and Seekers

"It's still not dry? See, I never shoulda let you in my car."

"Not my fault!" I throw my hands in the air in protest, hopefully signifying my innocence. I lower myself gingerly into the cramped convertible looking car, and fasten the seatbelt at my hip. The agony from this morning seemed to have intensified all day long, and I could not be happier to finally be on my way to my warm, cozy bed.

Except I'm not.

I'm on my way to The Music Shack, dad's shop. That's the only place they have a piano that I'm not reluctant to go to. Well, I'm sure Kenny has a piano at his house, considering he had to learn how to play somewhere. I should ask him if we can just go there, instead! It's probably warm, there's probably food... Mmm. I'm already fantasizing. Either that, or I'm hallucinating due to this blasted sickness.

"It's not the first thing you've done to my car." Kenny mutters angrily, putting the car into reverse. I frown, stumped, at his random input. What else have I done to his car, besides get it wet?

I-Is he talking about...

"Y-you remember that?" An embarrassed flush rises to the apples of my cheeks, and I quickly shoo it away.

"How could I forget the world's biggest klutz spilling rainbow sherbert all over my car?" He scowls meanly at me from the corner of his eye.

"Hey! You practically ran me ov-" I protest, feeling a terrible, burning sensation along the flats of my limbs, when I stop mid-sentence. "I... I didn't tell you it was rainbow sherbert."

"I thought you were putting on act at first, but then I realized you're actually that stupid." He groans frustratedly, and turns sharply around a corner, making me thrust to the side. "It's as easy to recognize as vanilla or chocolate."

"I guess you're right." I shrug, defeated, and rest my temple on the darkened window. I'm going to try and forget the constant urge to puke for a few moments and just try and relax my body. Wait! I still have to ask him if we can go to his house. "Kenny?"

"Don't call me that. Sounds too much like your name." He spits and slams on the breaks, halting at a red light. He's a terrible driver. Either that, or he has horrible anger management problems. I'd say it's a mix of the two.

"What should I call you then?" I duck my head from an upcoming swing, that never does come, and speak, absolutely baffled.

"Kendall." He says through clenched teeth, and zips his lips into a firm line. I'm going to try and forget that I actually took notice of their faint, pinkish hue.

"Okay. Kendall, The Music Shack is a good 15 minutes away. Can't we just go to your house and-"

"No. Absolutely out of the question." A flaming red boils onto Kenny's face, and he shoots me a death glare that makes my breathing hitch in my throat.
If Kenny is always mad, what was that just now? It looked like he was one breath away from tearing my head off. He looked extremely furious. What was that about? Why can't we go to his house?

Well, considering I like my head on top of my shoulders, I refuse to even give the question a second thought. I plaster my sight at the clouded skies above, and the wilted flowers that are steadily growing brown. September is always a suckish month. Everything looks like it's dying. Plants turn gray, trees lose their leaves, and everyone and everything is in an overall mopey mood.

"Are you scared of me?" Kenny speaks quietly, having fumed out his previous blood thirsty wrath. I'm so glad he's not a vampire, or else I'd be far gone.

"Nnnno." I say shakily, and avoid his eyes at all costs. They seem to be boring into the side of my head, drilling a hole into my conscious. It feels like he's reading my thoughts. Hopefully not, or that'd be terribly embarrassing.

"Really?" He smirks, seeming as though he's more mentally stable. His gaze forces my eyes to meet his wild blue ones, and I know I'll never be able to break away now. The color is absolutely captivating, mesmerizing even. If I could scoop them out of his body and put them into my sockets, I'd be the happiest girl in the world.

There's a reason these thoughts are in your head, Jenny.

"Okay... Maybe a little, I don't know. Nnno." I splutter, tearing our intense gaze apart, and lean against the window. I'm sure that if Kenny asked me to jump off a cliff, I'd without a doubt do it, considering if I didn't, he'd probably have a much more painful death in store for me.

"That's good if you are. It should stay like that." He says harshly, but unable to cover the sad undertone to his voice. I slowly turn my gaze back on him, and immediately take note of the unmistakeable loneliness in his eyes. They're staring straight at the road in front of us, an elongated, corner less path, and yet all his eyes see is a bleak pit that leads to no where. How I can tell, I don't know. He looks so... hopeless. As if everyone, even himself, has given up on him.

"Do you want to tell me where you learned to play piano?" I say after an unbearable amount of silence. It feels like I've been sitting in the same seat for hours and hours, and I'm itching to get up and stretch. I've been trying to ignore the sweat on my temples, and the coldness of my forehead, but it's becoming seemingly harder.

"No. That's none of your goddam business." He smiles smallishly, and turns a corner, coming up a gravelly path. We're almost there. I recognize where we are. I don't believe I've ever seen him smile before. Maybe? I don't know. Is that considered a smile? The corners of his mouth barely flicked up. You know what, I take it back. I doubt he even has the ability to smile, let alone laugh or talk about something happy.
... I wonder why that is.

"Is that like your catchphrase or something?" I have the craving to poke fun at him, but decide against it, and go for a genuine, interested approach.

"Nah. I just find myself saying it a lot." He opens up like a window, and I beam brightly, happy that he shared something with me that wasn't a sarcastic comment or insult.

Okay... maybe this guy isn't half-bad.

"But only to you, cause you're the snootiest, most annoying girl in the world."

I so take that back. Damn him to Hell!

Oh shit! I cursed again!

Oh crap! Stop cursing!

Oh, God! I'm becoming like him!

We pull up to a tiny, two story store that looks a row house with a banner. It advertises 'The Music Shack' in bold, red letters. Almost as soon as he puts it in park, he bolts from the car, slamming the door behind him. I search blindly for the door handle, still unable to see straight. Why does everything have to be black in here? Couldn't he paint it like, yellow? Is that so hard?

"So you are just that stupid, huh." The door swings open, revealing a completely irritated Kendall.

"Am not." I grumble lowly and hoist myself to my feet. I teeter to one side, feeling the sensation that the ground is shifty and unstable, and I fall forwards. I crinkle my eyes shut and wait for the impact. ….

"What do you think you're doing?" Kenny growls from above me, and I blink wide-eyed, suddenly aware of our position. My head rests softly on top of his chest, and my hands on his sides, accidentally groping his abdomen.

"S-s-sorry!" I scream and bolt away from his chest, snaking around him and towards the front door. I hobble up to the front steps, and shrug my sweatshirt around my body as far as it'll go, feeling like I just swallowed 10 pounds of ice. Why we had to practice today, I don't know. Why Mr. Dolton had to prescribe this stupid assignment, today, out of all days, I don't know.

In literal terms, I feel like horse poo.

I somehow manage to get the wicker door open, and I walk as steadily as I can into the store, littered with stray violin bows, brass parts for different instruments, and different styled acoustic guitars hung onto the walls. The walls are painted a blood-red color that matches the outside poster.

"Hey, cupcake! How're you do-" Dad trots into the room, wrapping something in his palm, when he stops in place. His eyes travel over to Kenny behind me, and his expression turns stony. "Who's this?"

"This is Kenny-dall..." I drag out his name, unsure of what he'd prefer my dad to call him. Kendall sounds so much more badass than Kenny. Kenny reminds me of the guy from South Park.

"Kenny." Kenny sticks out a hand, and dad grabs it firmly, shaking it with a driven force behind his movements.

"Robert. What brings you here?" Dad releases his grasp on Kenny's whitening knuckles, and retreats behind the counter.

"W-we're just here to use the piano…." I butt in, looking between the two, cautiously. "For a project."

"Oh. Okay. You know where it is." Dad switches his focus to me, his eyes telling me that I have some explaining to do. I nod in agreement, and grab the scruff of Kenny's collar, hauling him after me. As soon as we're out of the room, Kenny slaps my hand away, and mutters profanities to himself. I pretend not to notice how everything shakes when I walk, so I take a seat at the piano bench without another thought. Kenny comes to sit down next to me; well, as far away as he can sit on the same bench.

"What song…" I fade out, gripping the sides of my head, waiting for the pulse to stop. "Do you want to do?"

I rest my elbows atop the poorly painted cover, and listen for a response as intently as I can. The cover, in this instance, is the thing that slides out and 'covers' the keys. It doesn't really have a name, as far as I know.

"Let's do Can't Hold Us." He slides the cover back, making my elbows slip onto the keys. An ugly discord sounds throughout the furnished room, jolting me from my slight relaxation. I pop my eyes open, and raise an eyebrow in his direction.

"Who's that by?" I look plainly at the discolored keys underneath my elbows, and hope that they'll tell me the answer. The last thing I need right now is to look like a doofus. Well, he already thinks I'm the stupidest thing in the world.

"Macklemore?" He says flatly, spelling out some of the chords on the keys. It sounds catchy. Too bad I've never heard of it before.

"Oh." I stare at his swirling face, and the pit of my stomach starts to ache. I lean over a little, pressing my arms to my gut. I do that whenever I get cramps, although I'm sure it doesn't really help. "Why don't you work on that? I'm gonna… go get a soda."

"I like Coke." He shouts after me, as I stumble out of the room.