Alone Together {Patrick Stump}

Chapter 22

Bill and I went on a few more dates after the first. He seemed to really like me, and I kind of liked him, too. We were sitting on a bench in the park when he brought up my family.

"So, we've been going out for a while and I still haven't really met your family," he said, his arm draped across my shoulder. 

"Well, my family hasn't really all been around much lately," I replied.

"So what does your mom do? I haven't seen her," he said.

"I'm adopted," I said. "My dad is all I have have. My birth parents died in a car crash with my older sister. I have my dad and his band."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," he said.

"No, it's fine," I said. "I'll get you over when next time the guys are over." 

He nodded and we sat for a while in silence. Then we walked back to my house and I went inside. I found Patrick in the music room upstairs.

"I'm home!" I called as I walked up the stairs.

"In here!" came Patrick voice. I walked into the music room and took a seat on a chair.

"Hey, when are the guys coming over next?" I asked.

"Maybe this weekend," he replied. "Joe said he wants to get together and watch movies sometime soon. Why do you ask?"

"I want the guys to meet Bill," I smiled. "The topic came up today at the park and I thought it'd be nice."

"That's great that you want him to meet the guys," he smiled. "I'll tell them Friday night then?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "I'll let Bill know."

"You want to help me with this song?" Patrick asked. I nodded and he handed me the lyrics. "This is what I have so far, but something isn't right." He played part of the first verse on guitar.

"Hold on," I said. I got up and grabbed a guitar from the wall and sat back down. "Start playing that again." He played what he'd just played and I played a few notes with him that sounded different. "No, that doesn't sound right," I muttered to myself. I played some more and eventually Patrick joined. After about twenty minutes, we finally got something for guitar. I hopped on the drums and and started playing. Drums was always the easiest to figure out.

"We'll play the song Friday," Patrick said. I nodded and we went back downstairs for dinner.

When Friday night arrived, the doorbell rang several times.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I screamed. I knew it was the guys trying to get on my nerve. I opened the door and saw someone I never thought I'd ever see again.

"Hey, Lyra, long time no see," my aunt Veronica said with a sad smile.

"How did you know I was here," I demanded. She and her husband had disappeared without telling anyone where they were going twelve years ago. When my parents died and my grandma didn't want me, everyone tried to contact her. So why was she here? Why now?

"Can I. . . Can I come in?" she asked. She looked around nervously. "Are you alone?"

"No," I replied coldly. "My dad is upstairs. He'll be down soon. What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk," she said. "Can I come in?"

"Who's at the door?" Patrick called, coming down the stairs.

"No one important," I said coldly, going to shut the door.

"Wait!" Veronica said, stopping the door with her hand. "Please, Lyra, I know you must be angry with me, I wouldn't blame you, but we need to talk. This is important. Please, let me come in so we can talk." Patrick came down and walked over to the door.