Same Mistakes

Part 3

*Ryan’s PoV*

I walked up the steps of Zack’s house, and I knocked on the door. Uncle Zayn answered, “Hey Ryan; Zack’s in the basement.” “Thanks, Uncle Z.” I said, winking, and he smiled. Uncle Zayn liked it when I called him “Uncle Z.”

I walked downstairs into the basement, where Zack was sitting at the drums, tapping it with his drumstick. “You’re late.” he stated, looking up at me. “Well, sorry. I had to have breakfast.” I said, grabbing my guitar. “Of course you did.” Zack laughed, and I looked up at him, “Hey, where’s Ethan?” “I’m coming. I’m coming. Keep your shirt on.” Ethan said, as he came down the stairs. I looked at a shirtless Zack, “I guess he missed that memo.” Ethan and I laughed, as Melanie came down the steps. “Hey, can I listen to you guys for a little bit?”

Zack said, “No.” as Ethan and I said, “Sure.” Zack looked at us, “Look, we don’t want her to be down here. She’ll talk the whole time.” “Will not.” she protested, “I’ll say super quiet. Promise.” “Fine…” Zack groaned, and she smiled, sitting in a beanbag in front of us.

Our ‘band’ only did covers, for now. We started with one of our Dad’s songs, ‘I Wish’, splitting the solo’s as such; Zack did his dad’s, Ethan did Uncle Harry’s, and I did Uncle Liam’s.

After that, Melanie clapped, “You guys sound great. Oops, I wasn’t supposed to talk…” I laughed, along with Ethan. “No, it’s ok.” I said, “But we’re missing something…” “What?” The boys asked me, and I turned to them, “We sound the same. We need someone to change up the sound.” “But who?” Zack asked, “We’re the only boys that would understand a band.” I smiled, “What if it isn’t a boy?”

The boys looked at me shocked, until Ethan asked, “You mean, let a girl into our band?” I shrugged, “Why not?” “Because it wouldn’t be a BOY-BAND.” Zack said, crossing his arms. I copied his action, “Well, it won’t be a BAND is we don’t sound good.” “He’s got a point.” Ethan said, “Who did you have in mind?”

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“You want me to what?” Heather asked me, as I came home. “I want you to join the band.” I repeated. “But, I can’t sing.” she replied, and I tried to hide my shock, “Heather, I’ve heard you; you sing like an angel.” I looked down as pink started peppering her cheeks, as it always did when she was complimented. “Thanks Ryan.” She said, looking at me in the corner of her eye, “What kind of songs do you sing?” “Covers.” I said, “None of us have really found anything to write about.” She giggled, and looked up, “I’d love to join your band.” I smiled, and gave her a hug, “Thanks Heather. Now let’s go. We have rehearsal.”

“Sure.” she said, her smile slowly fading, “But we have to get back before 5 o’clock.” “Why?” I asked, and she said, “Because, my boyfriend’s coming to get me, and I can’t be late.” “And if you’re not, what’ll he do?” I asked, stifling my laugh. She looked down, and mumbled, “I don’t know…” My smile vanished, “What?” “Nothing.” she said, looking up quickly and startling me, “Let’s go.” She started to walk, but I grabbed her arm, “No. I’ll call the boys and tell them we’ll be there later. We need to talk about this.” “No, we don’t.” she said, “It’s nothing.” I gently pulled her to me, “Heather, I can tell you’re scared of him. What did he do to you?” She looked down, and pouted, which she always did before she’d cry. “Come on.” she said, bringing me to her bedroom, “It’s more private here.” I nodded, and sat on the bed, as she locked the door. By the time she turned back to me, her eyes were glassy. I patted the bed, and she sat down, cuddling into me and crying. I held her closer, and tried to sooth her.

Remember, that connection I mentioned before? Well, it always helped in situations like these. I knew everything about Heather, even before she told her parents. She trusted me with everything, and I’ve never told anyone anything.

After Heather had calmed down, I asked, “What did your boyfriend do to you? Did he touch you, or abuse you?” She gave a faint nod, “Both…” I felt my protective instincts kick in, “What do you mean…” She looked up at me, her blue eyes outlined in red, “He… He touches me. I beg him not to, but he does…” “Is that why you cry yourself to sleep?” I asked, and she nodded, “The last time was the worse… and now I feel sick…” “Like repulsed or…” I started, but she shook her head, “Ryan… I think I’m pregnant…”