“Oh, go to hell already,” Keely mumbled, hiding her head under the covers.
Thankfully the AC/DC song Highway To Hell cut off, and she breathed a sigh of relief, slouching back into the bed.
She was much too tired to so much as roll over on the bed, she could barely hide her head in the pillow. Anyways the bed was much too comforting to even considering getting off of. In the silence Keely could find her whole body relaxing, drifting closer to sleep.
But the bloody song started up again.
Her eyes snapped open, glaring at the pillows cushioning around her head. For the first time in her life, she was very much wishing that Angus Young would just stop playing the guitar and be quiet for a minute. Hoping to out last the music that was suddenly grating on her throbbing head, Keely buried her head deeper into the blankets and pillows.
Yet it was of no use. Her heartbeat was moving back to a normal pace, a sure sign that sleep was now fleeing from her body. It was a very sad moment, indeed.
Not bothering to climb from her neatly built tangle of pillows and blankets she was hiding underneath in the middle of the bed, she flung her hand out to the bedside table, slamming her hand on the phone before dragging it towards her.
Silencing Brian Johnson, she pressed the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she asked groggily, her voice that was slightly hoarse from the performance the night before was muffled by the blankets.
““I used to get high for a living, believing everything I saw on the TV”.”
Keely paused stupidly, she was sure those were song lyrics. “Huh?”
“Get up.”
When her finally managed to catch up to her the conversation, she realized it could only be Seth on the other line, his voice really didn't need any introduction. “I don't want to get up,” she retorted, snuggling her face into the pillows.
“Too bad, time to get up.”
Moaning grudgingly, Keely rolled over, finally pushing the pillow away that had covered her head so she could see the ceiling, but not moving her nest of blankets. “How did you know I was sleeping?”
“I'm psychic,” his voice responded dryly over the line. “Now, seriously, get up. You need to come down to the warehouse.”
She whined, “But I'm tired!”
“Not my fault?”
“Not your fault?” Keely snorted disbelieving. “Of course it's your fault! You and the stupid, idiotic NS to your R! Because of you three I didn't even get home until eight in the morning. I deserve my sleep, Ryan!”
He groaned, “Oh, c'mon, rebel. It's nine o'clock right now. You've had thirteen hours of sleep, you're making all musicians seem bad now.”
Instantly she shoved herself up onto her elbows so she could peek over the blankets to steal a glance at the alarm clock on her bedside table, and it just proved that Seth wasn't lying. “Why do I need to go down to the warehouse?” she conceded.
“You'll see, but be there by ten.”
Hearing that tell tale click that told her clearly that Seth had just disconnected their call, Keely groaned and tossed her phone to the end of the bed, flopping down back on the cushions again. Her limbs were feeling comfortably lethargic and, honestly, getting up seemed like just too much work at the moment. Yes, thirteen hours of sleep was more than enough for a normal person, but the set she'd played combined with hanging out with the boys until the sun rose had more than taken all her energy away.
YOU ARE READING
Just What I Needed
Teen FictionIn life there are things that are said, and then there are those that remain unsaid. For Keely Staub, her life mostly remained in the latter category. She kept the one true love, music, hidden from even her best friends. But when one song changed th...
