Playing the Playboys

Chapter 41: The Confession

Why do I pull you close
And then ask you for space
If all it is is eight letters
Why is it so hard to say?

"You don't have to do this, you know." Logan said from the backseat as I started my car.

"Shut up, Logan." Ivan shushed, glaring at him as he rubbed his temples. His head was hurting once again, a side effect of his overdose. "It's a free ride, why are you saying no?"

"You shut up," he retorted lamely. "I just want Kath to know that she's not obligated to drive us to the rehab center just because she's walking in the path of righteousness now."

"I know that." I butted in before Ivan could shut him up again. "I just really want to fulfill my promise of helping you guys with your addictions."

"That's a first." Logan joked lightheartedly, but I couldn't help but feel a little triggered. He wouldn't normally say things like that, but since the lack of alcohol, he became a little blunt and irritable.

The other day, Logan got irritated by Ivan's breathing, and of course, Ivan was annoyed by Logan's yapping. They began arguing back and forth and almost punched each other to death if it weren't for Ryder stepping in.

Ivan turned up the radio and Panic! At The Disco's High Hopes blared out on my car's speakers. Despite his headache, he sat up and started belting out the lyrics.

"Had to have high, high hopes for the living!" he sang out loud, raising his hands up. It was funny since his hands were long and my car was small, so it looked like he was trying to lift the roof up.

I grinned and joined him immediately. "Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing."

"You guys are so obnoxious." Logan complained from the backseat.

We ignored him.

"Didn't have a dime but I always had a vision," Ivan blasted out, waving his arms with a wide grin on his face.

"Always had high, high hopes!"

Ivan and I stared at Logan, who was frowning, from the rearview mirror. I waggled my eyebrows at him, making him sigh in defeat.

"Had to have high, high hopes for the living," he sang in a semi-monotonous voice, but at least he was singing.

"Didn't know how but I always had a feeling!" I yelled out, drumming on the steering wheel with my free hand.

"I was gonna be that one in a million!" Ivan strummed an invisible guitar, even biting his lip for a dramatic effect.

I burst out laughing while Logan cracked a smile. We looked at each other, smiling from ear to ear, and sang the next lyrics together.

"Always had high, high hopes!"

Logan and Ivan had a duet in the verse part of the song while I laughed at their craziness, happy that they were letting loose. We arrived at the hospital before the song even finished, so we stayed at the car and planned to finish the whole song.

At one point, Ivan jumped at the backseat. Of course, me being me, I followed him there and we started bouncing obnoxiously as we belted out the lyrics from our hearts. From the outside, it probably looked like someone was having car sex, but we didn't care. As I wrapped my arms around their necks, I felt my old, worry-free self surface back, and I knew they felt the same.

Once our song fest (more like scream fest) was finished, they proceeded to go in the rehab center. I prayed that they'd never give up on getting better because I knew they had a bright future ahead of them.