The Lost Girl

by Lilian Carmine

  “I have to confess to you, I’m not much a fan of the little dude myself,” Harry said, biting his bottom lip.

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s not little. He’s about the same height as you and Seth.”

  “Pssht! He wishes. He’s way smaller than me, and thinner. And weaker,” he teased, flexing his biceps at me. “Oh, and uglier too!”

  I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over his face, straddling his lap at the same time. He laughed then pretended he was suffocating. Then I felt his body go limp beneath me and I heard a muffled “You killed me!” from underneath the pillow.

  I tossed the pillow away and poked him in the chest. “Stop. Picking. On. Vigil.”

  He grunted. “All right. Gosh, you’re such a bully!” he complained and prepared to get up from the bed. “Now that I see that you’re okay, I’ll be going …”

  “No! Please, don’t leave! Can’t you stay with me for a little while? You can at least finish watching your cartoon,” I urged, giving him a pleading look. I didn’t want to be alone in the room after my fight with Tristan. I knew I would just keep thinking about it and feel awful, and Harry’s company would help me feel a little bit better. He sat back and settled next to me, making himself comfortable on the bed.

  I curled up around his arm and rested my head on his chest as we watched the TV show together in silence. Harry was always there for me whenever I had a fight with Tristan; just his reassuring presence was enough to help me.

  Tristan was still on my mind as I fell asleep by Harry’s side.

  Chapter Four

  Home, Sweet Home

  I woke up in a panic, startled by a series of loud bangs. I blinked, confused, and sat up in bed quickly, trying to work out what was going on. Where was I? What time was it? Who was banging on the door like that, for crying out loud?

  I swept a look around the hotel room. Ah, okay. Hotel room. That was one question answered already. Harry was still sleeping peacefully beside me, his green and red tattoo snaking over his chest and shoulder. What I finally recognized as Becca’s muffled voice and continuous banging finally made me snap out of my sleepy daze.

  I leapt up and ran to the door before she could break the damned thing, and threw it wide open. Becca was indeed on the other side, her fist raised ready to pound again, while Jamie stood right behind her, holding two cups of coffee.

  “About time, Joe Gray! I’ve been calling you on the phone and banging on this door for ever,” she shouted, exasperatedly. “Everybody is anxious to get back home, you know. Only you and Harry aren’t ready to go. Jamie, give her the coffee. We’re leaving in ten minutes. Hurry up and get Harry ready!” she exclaimed and turned around, speedwalking to the elevator.

  I nodded, even though Becca wasn’t even there any more, and then rubbed my eyes, trying to wipe the sleep away. I still felt so tired. Jamie cleared his throat, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

  “Here, for you and Harry,” he said, handing me the two cups, and then added smartly, “You look hot waking up.”

  I snorted loudly and in a very unladylike way, thinking that no way in hell would I look good waking up with my bird’s nest hair and the morning breath of doom.

  Jamie shrugged, like he had been enjoying the view very much, no matter what I thought of it, and then gave me a short nod before retreating back into the hallway.

  I closed the door, holding the two cups of coffee, and then it hit me properly that Harry had fallen asleep beside me last night and had never left the room. He was still sleeping right there on the bed, even after Becca’s thunderous knocking a minute ago. I shuffled towards him and put the coffees on the nightstand, watching him sleep. Harry could sleep through a hurricane and not be disturbed by it.

  I passed my hand softly over his face, brushing aside some of his long blond bangs. He blinked and looked at me through half-open eyes.

  “Hey, Harry Bear,” I said quietly. “We need to get ready and leave. Everybody is waiting for us. We overslept.”

  He nodded but made no effort to move, merely blinking lazily at me. Harry was never much of a morning person. He usually woke up in “quiet mode” and needed to gulp down copious amounts of food and coffee before he was ready to talk.

  “Here, some coffee for you, sweetie,” I said, handing him one of the cups. He leaned on his elbows to sip at the coffee and I ran to the bathroom to get myself ready.

  When I came out dressed in fresh clothes, Harry had already left for his room to get ready as well. We met in the lobby a few minutes later, ran together to the bus and climbed up to the second floor to find everybody spread around the couch, waiting patiently for us.

  “Finally!” Sam greeted us, clapping his hands in celebration. “We were considering leaving without you two,” he exclaimed, ruffling his brown curls. And then he teased, “I mean, who needs a bass player really? And Joey … what is it that you do in this band again?”

  “Shut up, numbnuts,” I grumbled, swatting at him and then slumping down on the couch next to Josh. Harry did the same on the other side and we both rested our heads on Josh’s shoulders.

  “How can you two still be tired? You’ve had more sleep than everybody else in here!” Josh mused with a chuckle.

  “Hrumphrgh,” Harry and I grunted in unision.

  I peeked in Tristan’s direction. He was staring at the TV, watching some program intently. My gloomy mood increased considerably. He was avoiding looking at me and I could tell he was thinking that I was still tired because I had been out with Vigil all night long. He didn’t know I’d been back in the room ten freaking minutes later. I couldn’t even tell him to ask Harry for confirmation, because then I would have to explain about Harry sleeping in my room, in the same bed as me, as well. He was not going to be very pleased about that, either. I huffed to myself. I didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.

  The bus’s engine started running and Harry stood up, announcing he was going to crash in his bunk on the bottom deck for a while. Shortly after, Tristan followed. I rolled my eyes as I watched him leave, still avoiding eye contact with me. I could tell he was still mad about Vigil. For how much longer was he going to give me the cold shoulder?

  I stared at the TV until I couldn’t any longer, becoming drowsy with the rumbling of the bus lulling me into sleep. I headed downstairs and as I reached the last step I could hear Tristan’s voice drifting through from where he and Harry were talking by the bunk beds; instinctively, I stopped to listen.

  “I’m telling you, man, she was really upset last night. She said you flipped pretty bad on her,” came Harry’s voice.

  I heard Tristan huff loudly. “I know. I was in a bad mood. She said she was so tired but then the next minute she was scampering away all happy to meet him.”

  He had a point. Maybe it was time to listen to Tristan. I made a promise to myself that as of today, I would stop running off to meet Vigil the second he called. And I would stop “touching” him, too, even if it meant being in constant pain around him. If it made Tristan that upset, I would stop it. I could endure some pain for the sake of our relationship.

  “And something happens to me when I hear his name,” Tristan continued. “I just lose it. I just stop thinking – I don’t know why! You know I’m not usually like that. I woke up today feeling really bad about everything I said last night …”

  “Look, man, just apologize, all right? And you’ll be fine. Joey never holds a grudge. She’s got a good heart.”

  “I know. I will,” Tristan conceded quietly.

  I left them talking and climbed back up the stairs quietly. I didn’t need to hear anything further; my heart already felt lighter.

  Back on the couch, I sat beside Sam. But again, after a few minutes spent looking at the screen, my eyes were so heavy that I gave up trying to keep them open and let myself drift off to sleep. I could hear the boys muttering about something on the TV, and a breeze blowing in from an open window brushed my face. My whole body felt as he
avy as lead.

  And then I felt someone holding my head softly. Sam shifted away and someone else took his place on the couch. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was; I knew his scent from miles away. Tristan started running his fingers through my hair, which was his favorite habit. I loved when he did it too.

  I snuggled comfortably in his lap as he hummed a song.

  In that moment, just like that, everything was forgiven.

  I drifted back into a deep sleep, all voices and feelings fading away into oblivion. I didn’t know how long I was out but when I woke up, Tristan was nudging me softly. My eyelids fluttered open and I looked up at his handsome face. He, in turn, smiled back at me.

  “We’ve stopped to grab some lunch. Everybody is outside,” he said, quietly.

  “Oh. Okay. It’s past noon already?” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

  “Yeah.”

  I hauled myself upright, trying to shake the grogginess away. I felt stiff and my body was aching all over. That couch was really no good to sleep on; my back was going to hurt like a bitch tonight.

  “Listen, Joe,” Tristan began hesitantly, trying to find the right words. “About last night … I’m sorry. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have said the things I said—”

  “Tristan, it’s all right,” I said, cutting him off. “Seriously, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have gone to meet him yesterday. You were right, I act like a doormat sometimes.”

  “No, Joe. I was upset, I didn’t mean …” He passed a hand over his black hair in frustation. “Listen, you’re not a doormat. You have a good heart and you were just trying to help. You always try to help people. You’re a good person, I should never have turned it into a bad thing. It was wrong of me, I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  I hugged him tight. “I’m glad you’re not mad at me any more,” I whispered. He shifted so he was facing me, our noses touching.

  “Love you,” I whispered, giving him a light peck on the lips.

  “I love you too, Buttons.” And he came back for a longer, deeper kiss.

  Tristan and I had been together for three years, give or take, but his kisses still made me melt under his lips. I’d thought it was something that only happened at the beginning of relationships, that this euphoric feeling would eventually pass when we got used to each other, and we’d settle down and sail into calmer waters, but he still managed to cause havoc inside of me.

  “Now, come on. Let’s get you lunch. If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss it, and you’ve already missed breakfast. At this rate you’ll end up a skeleton,” he said, standing up and extending his hand to me.

  “Why eat if we can survive on luuuurve?” I teased, pinching his side.

  “Yeah, yeah. You can love and gobble down some food at the same time, buttercup. Let’s go,” he said, tugging me downstairs.

  “Got her to wake up, then?” Jarvis asked as we passed him on our way to the store.

  “Hey, Jarvis. Yeah, it’s really hard to wake Sleeping Beauty here,” Tristan joked, interlacing his fingers with mine and pulling me along.

  The drive home was quick afterwards and we soon arrived at the house’s front lawn. I dropped my bags loudly on the floor as soon as I stepped inside.

  “Honey! I’m home!” I shouted to the air.

  Tristan came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. His warm breath tickled the side of my face.

  “I’m right here, you don’t need to shout!” He chuckled and gave me a kiss behind my ear. “Good to be home,” he murmured, surveying the living room.

  Here we were: home sweet home.

  Or as we liked to call it: “The Lost Boys Headquarters”.

  The Lost Boys Headquarters was a big, comfortable, two-storey house with six bedrooms – one for each Lost Boy – two guest rooms for visitors, a small but comfortable kitchen, a big, airy living room, music room – plus our private studio – and a small gym.

  Mr. Silver had arranged the living situation for us. Putting us all under the same roof kept things a lot easier and also saved time; things were a lot faster to organize with everybody in the same house. It sure made Becca’s life a lot easier, too.

  We’d been sharing the house for three years and I loved having the boys as room-mates. I was already used to sharing living quarters with Seth and Tristan from our last year of school; the only difference now was that we had Sam, Harry and Josh along with us. Living with them was amazing and the most fun I had ever had! We all respected each other’s space and moods, so if someone was a little cranky, we tried to leave them alone; if someone was sad, we tried cheering them up; and if someone was happy, we all celebrated together. We took care of each other.

  Also, we weren’t in Esperanza any more. We lived in the same city as the base for our record label.

  But the best part of living here? It was miles away from all our moms!

  I mean, really far away. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, as well as the boys’ parents, but they could be a bit overbearing sometimes. We were on our own and loving every second of it!

  I walked up the stairs and headed to my room so I could dump my stuff.

  My room was more like a gigantic personal closet. I mostly used it to pick up clothes rather than sleeping in there. The room was also everybody else’s storage room: Josh’s old practice pads were in there, with a few pieces of his drum kits lying around; Sam and Seth’s old guitars were laid in a corner, and a bunch of other junk was spread haphazardly over the carpet.

  “Hey, you people!” I could hear Seth shout from downstairs. “Just got a call from Becca saying she’ll be over here soon to go through our schedule for tomorrow. She will be here after she sorts out some things.”

  The tour was officially over, but we still had a few promo events to attend before we were officially free for our much-dreamed-of summer vacation.

  “Oh, and just so you know, I’m not cooking tonight!” he added.

  The doorbell rang, shortly followed by a high-pitched shriek. It vaguely resembled my name being called out, but in an inhumanly shrill way. I swear a few dogs even started barking in response.

  Before I’d even made it to the top of the stairs, a towering blonde hurricane tackled me like a professional wrestler. I could feel my bones being crushed under her arms.

  “Joooeeeyyyyyy!” she squealed at the top of her voice.

  “Tiffany!” I screamed back, and laughed.

  Tiffany Worthington the Third. Multi-millionaire. Fabulously blonde, beautiful, fierce and smart. Also, my best friend in the whole wide world.

  “I can’t believe you guys are already here,” she said, squeezing me one more time. “I missed you soooo much, Jo-Jo!”

  “I missed you too, Tiff,” I said, pinching her cheeks.

  “Hey! What about me? I’m the boyfriend, you know,” Seth whined.

  “I missed you … more or less,” she said, and then ran and tackled him with a bearlike, crushing hug, subjecting him to a flurry of kisses all over his face.

  “OKAY! OKAY! Broken rib here,” he squeaked, grinning.

  Tiffany sometimes tagged along with us for a few shows, but she was too busy working on her own fashion line to be with us all the time. “Where’s Dad?” she asked me, as we made our way back downstairs. She meant Tristan. “Dad” was due to the fact that every time there was a major rumpus, Tristan was always the one to restore order to the room.

  “Right here, Miss Worthington,” he said, walking over to Tiffany and giving her a big hug.

  Sam, Harry and Josh joined us in the living room, where we all sat on the couch, chatting excitedly about our last days of touring. We were interrupted when Sam’s girlfriend, Amanda, arrived. She let out a girly squeak when she saw Sammy, and hugged him for what seemed like fifteen minutes.

  Harry went to the kitchen to answer the phone. I watched as he leaned against the wall with his back to us. I knew who he was speaking to.

  Jackie Sunford. They had bee
n together for a year now. My lips pursed involuntarily just at the thought of her. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her per se, it was just that I didn’t like what she did to Harry. For a start he was more serious when she was around. He stopped doing the silly things he did when he was just with us; he stopped being himself. I could see his posture shifting already, just by talking to her on the phone.

  Tristan chuckled and shook his head at me, telling me I was just being jealous – that I was very possessive of Harry.

  Jealous. Pfft. Maybe I just didn’t like what Harry became when he was with her. He changed, and not for the better.

  Jackie never wanted to hang out at our house. She knew I would be here and I don’t think she liked me that much, either. I could always see the animosity flickering in her eyes, the resentment. Especially after some rumors that Harry and I had had “a fling” started to circulate. She hated it when I was near him, and that turned out to be a major issue since Harry and I were room-mates, co-workers, best friends and spent all our time together traveling. This meant “us” living together, sharing bunk beds and hotel rooms, working and playing together, and hanging out in our free time.

  Harry struggled to keep his both love life and our friendship intact. He really liked her, and he was trying to make things work. But it was difficult, and after a year together it was beginning to take its toll.

  I was always walking on eggshells around Jackie because I didn’t want to hurt Harry’s feelings. It was like trying to relax with a ticking time bomb by your side. Tick tock. No sudden movements. Tick. Keep a neutral face. Tock. Stay away from Harry. Tick. You don’t want to piss her off. Tock.

  It was only a matter of time before the explosion …

  After a few minutes of hushed conversation, he hung up and went to his room. Minutes later he was dressed up all handsome and ready to leave.

  “I’m going out to meet Jackie. Talk to you later,” he said in a hurry, waving goodbye and closing the front door after himself.

  The rest of us stayed home, chatting and chilling. Becca came over to discuss our schedule, telling us about the autograph signing we were scheduled for tomorrow in a famous bookstore downtown. When evening came, we ordered some food for dinner. It was a peaceful and uneventful night.