A Fine Mess

by Hughes, Breanna

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I think when you moved out you took some of my boxes. The ones with my music equipment in them. I’m in desperate need of guitar strings. Can you bring them over?”

  Finn slumped his shoulders in disappointment. Her reason for calling was rather anti-climactic. He did have her boxes. He found them while he was cleaning up earlier. But what she was asking fell in the “favor” category. And he was done jumping through hoops for people. Absolutely finished.

  Before he knew it, Finn was up and looking for his shoes. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be right there.”

  He hung up the phone and shook his head in disappointment.

  Damn, he thought. And he was just starting to make some progress…

  CHAPTER 4

  It was times like this that Kiley wished she smoked. It was a rather dull and empty Tuesday night at Tyson’s Bar. She hated working the weekdays. The weekends were always packed with all sorts of interesting people who were drunk enough to tip very generously. Tonight, however, was a very different scene. She felt like she was about to go stir crazy due to boredom. If she smoked, at least there would be a reason to go outside for a little break and bring relief to the dullness that surrounded her. Kiley was concentrating on the piece of paper in front of her and making little notes with one hand while wiping down the same spot of the bar with the other hand, not even paying attention to the eleven patrons in the bar.

  “You’ve been wiping that spot so long, I think it’s gone from dirty, to clean and back to dirty again,” remarked Graham as he placed a heavy crate of beer bottles on the edge of the bar.

  Kiley looked up at her boss, then down at the towel she was using. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I should move this party elsewhere, huh?” She picked up the piece of paper, moved four feet to her left and continued with what she was doing.

  Graham walked over and sat down on a barstool facing her. “Can I ask why you’re so focused on that piece of paper when you should be working?”

  Kiley looked around. “If someone needs me, I’ll help them out. Don’t worry.” She went back to her paper.

  Graham grabbed the piece of paper and started reading it. “Lay down five new recordings within the next six months. Perform at least two nights a month at a venue that ISN’T Tyson’s Bar…” Graham looked at Kiley, suspiciously. “Kiley, do you have something against my bar?”

  “No. I wouldn’t dare bite the hand that barely feeds me. It’s for Harper. It’s a list of goals I’m making for her.” She pointed at the bottom of the page. “And I started making a budget for her so maybe she can spend less time at work and more time working on her music.”

  Graham examined the paper, quite impressed with Kiley’s organization skills. “So why aren’t you making yourself one of these?”

  “Because, sexy, my plan is foolproof. I plan on marrying you and inheriting half of the bar.”

  Graham handed the piece of paper back. “Didn’t you know I’m already spoken for?” He gestured to the TV overhead, which was set to an entertainment news show discussing Angelina Jolie.

  Kiley looked up at the TV. “Well I refuse to let you go without a fight.”

  Graham smiled. Of course he knew she was joking. Not only was Graham fifty-one with a beer belly, but he had also become somewhat of a father figure to Kiley over the last couple years. It started when Harper began to perform at his bar. Before that, he really couldn’t stand Kiley and regretted hiring her in the first place. When she started hanging out with Harper, that all changed. Graham had known Harper since she was born. He was friends with her parents and had always adored her. He had promised to always watch out for her. Which is why she always had an open invitation to perform there whenever she wanted. Though, like Kiley, he firmly believed that she could do much better than this place. She just had to find her audience. Since Kiley was now a permanent fixture as Harper’s best friend, he felt obligated to watch over her, as well.

  “Why are you going through all this trouble for Harper?” asked Graham.

  Kiley shrugged. “You’ve heard her. You’ve seen her play. She’s incredible.

  She’s…transcendent. And she deserves to be happy.”

  Graham beamed with pride seeing how important Harper was to Kiley. “You’re a good friend, sweetie. A damn good friend.”

  Kiley looked up at Graham. “I just really believe in her. Plus, the sooner she gets her music out there, the sooner she’ll be rich and famous and I plan on riding those bra straps all the way to the top,” she joked.

  Graham’s reply was merely a grunt as he walked off to finish what he was doing, before he got sucked into yet another one of Kiley’s tangents.

  A customer came strolling up to the bar. “Hey, can I get a Bud Light?”

  Kiley didn’t even look up from her paper. She reached behind her, grabbed a bottle, opened it and put it on the bar. “Here you go.”

  “Uh…this isn’t Bud Light. This is Bass,” the customer complained.

  “Yeah, I don’t believe in Bud Light. This is real beer. Trust me. You’ll love it,” replied Kiley.

  The customer was starting to get irate until Kiley looked up at him, winked and flashed her signature smile. He was left searching for words. “Uh…I…okay. Thanks.”

  As he headed off back to his table, Kiley, once again, became engrossed in her project.

  Kiley couldn’t really explain the connection she had with Harper. It was just one of those things in life that you learn not to question. She figured part of it may have to do with the fact that Kiley’s childhood wasn’t the most stable. Harper, even with all her neuroses, accident-prone tendencies and random acts of silliness, was by far the most stable, reliable and unwavering person she’s ever met. She’s been the one constant in Kiley’s life, even though they had only known each other a few years. Kiley came from somewhat of a “broken home.” She often used that term loosely because her parents were actually still together. But they were living very different lives and had been since Kiley could remember. Her mother is a shell of the woman she once was. Her father was cold and unfeeling, and she had gotten over most of her painful childhood. She tried to separate herself from her parents as much as she could, but she still loved them. She cared about them despite how much they have potentially screwed her up. As much as she hated to admit it, she often found solace in the fact that she and Harper could relate to each other regarding parental issues, even though the issues were as different as night and day for them. Kiley was thankful she still had the option of seeing her parents, which was a rare occurrence. She often dreaded it, but about twice a year, she would make the trek out to Ojai to pay her parents a visit. She usually ended up leaving after about an hour.

  Despite the less than stellar childhood Kiley endured, she managed to forge ahead and make a life of her own. She never really knew what she wanted to do with her life. She never felt there was a place she could call home. She was always afraid that she was destined to wander like some self-proclaimed nomad. She always had a tendency to care more about living for the minute than thinking about the future, so never gave much thought to it. But she wasn’t vapid in any way, nor was she devoid of personality. In fact, she had it in spades. She had her likes: imported beer, game night featuring a rousing game of Boggle, “I Love Lucy,” good music, good times, and good friends. She had her dislikes: bad grammar, the word “panties,” new wave jazz, and doctors that tell you your appointment is at 9 a.m. and they don’t end up actually seeing you until 10:30. She always figured she had plenty of time to figure out where her life was going. Right now, all she knew to do was get through the day alive.

  Kiley had always been a looker; the kind of girl that always gets a second glance. The best part about her is that she doesn’t even know it. And if she did know it, she didn’t act like it. When she wasn’t working, she usually let her long, light brown hair flow freely and rarely ever needed to style it. She was one of those girls
with prototypically perfect hair. Her skin seldom ever had a blemish and her thin, but toned body wasn’t a result of long hours at the gym, but simply the product of good genes. Not only was Kiley beautiful, but also very real and loyal and grounded. She was also rather goofy at times and had a razor sharp tongue that would sometimes get her into trouble.

  Her sense of style was fairly casual, but while at work she usually dressed a little less classy than she prefers, but she figured it was a good way to get tips. She hated degrading herself in that way, but she does what needs to be done. The rent doesn’t pay itself.

  Tonight was a slight exception to the “dressing like a slut rule” seeing as how it was relatively dead. She decided to take a break from her project for Harper, folded up the piece of paper and put it in her pocket. ‘She’ll probably hate it anyway,’ thought Kiley.

  “Smithwick’s please.”

  Kiley looked up and observed a good looking young man with wire-rimmed glasses smiling at her. She noticed him earlier hanging out with a group of guys that left about fifteen minutes ago.

  “Sure.” She grabbed a glass from under the bar and started filling it up with the Irish brew. She put it on the bar. “Six dollars.”

  He pulled out a ten, threw it down on the bar and took a seat on the stool. “Rough night?”

  “No.” Kiley casually pulled the rubber band out of her hair and let her tresses fall naturally.

  “Oh.” He took a drink of his beer and looked around. “It’s a nice night.”

  Kiley chuckled. “What’s your name?”

  “Sean.” He reached his hand out to shake hers.

  Kiley looked at his hand and looked back up at him. “Can I ask you something, Sean?”

  Sean, feeling slightly rejected, pulled his hand back. “Sure.”

  Kiley leaned in toward him. “Are you trying to flirt with me? Because you’re really bad at it.”

  “Oh…uh…well…”

  Kiley smiled at him. “It’s okay. I’m off in an hour, if you want to wait.”

  “Okay!” replied Sean, a little too enthusiastically. He straightened up and cleared his throat. “I mean, sure. I think I can wait around.”

  Kiley leaned in closer to Sean and whispered, “We’ll have to go to your place. I’m having a…roommate issue.”

  Sean gulped, thrown off by how forward Kiley was. He wasn’t used to women who were so up front and honest. “Uh…okay.”

  Kiley backed up and less-than-eagerly turned around to gather the credit cards of the patrons who opened tabs. The uninspired look on her face was quite the opposite of Sean’s very noticeable smile.

  CHAPTER 5

  “You want some of my fries?” asked Finn.

  Harper had just taken a gargantuan bite of her burger and tried to answer as tactfully as possible without showing too much of what she had been chewing. “Sure. Why not?”

  Once she swallowed, she grabbed a couple of fries from his tray. After devouring them, she took a drink of her milkshake and started to look around, avoiding eye contact with Finn. She adjusted her position in the booth and felt the red cushioned vinyl stick to her legs.

  Breaking the silence, a voice came over the speaker system. “Number 67, your order’s ready!”

  They were at their favorite fast food burger place that was conveniently open until 2am. It was a place they used to frequent a lot in the past, but given the current circumstances, it had been a while since they had eaten there together. Harper almost forgot how good this place was as she enjoyed another bite of her burger.

  Finn’s right foot was nervously tapping the ground and his hands were fidgeting with the straw wrapper on the table. He thought he’d seen the last of Harper after he dropped off her music equipment last week, so he was surprised to get a phone call from her at one in the morning asking him to meet her here. He finished ripping the straw wrapper to shreds and couldn’t take the silence between them anymore.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Harper brought her attention back to Finn and shrugged, “I don’t know.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Harper hesitated for a moment, then conceded, “I fell asleep around midnight…”

  Finn perked up. “You did? That’s great. It used to take you until three or four to fall asleep.”

  “…I woke up forty-five minutes later.”

  “Oh.” Finn lowered his head.

  Harper cautiously continued. “I had a dream that woke me up. About Emily.”

  Finn nodded in understanding. “What happened?”

  “Nothing, really. She was just…there. Like thirty feet away from me. And I kept trying to get her attention, but she wasn’t seeing or hearing me. When she finally made eye contact with me, I woke up. I tried to go back to sleep and finish the dream, but I ended up lying in bed only able to focus on the cricket chirping outside my window. It was really annoying.”

  Finn leaned back into his seat. “And you still haven’t heard from her?”

  “Nope.”

  Finn looked around, a little unsure of what to say. “Well, we can try to look for her again. Maybe we’ll have more luck this time.”

  Harper laughed uncomfortably and shook her head. “No. I’m done. I’m not doing that again.”

  “Okay then. You want another burger?”

  “No thanks.” Harper finished the last bite of her burger and immediately regretted the meal she just consumed. Before she started to chastise herself for the thousand calories she just ate, her thoughts trailed off. Her eyes fixated on the empty tray in front of her as her meandering thoughts turned into words. “I mean, it’s not like she cared enough to even let me know she’s okay. Why should I give a shit anymore?” She shook her head. “Screw it. I did everything I could.”

  ***

  The packed up duffle bag sitting by the front door said it all. There was no stopping her. Harper tried to fight back the tears materializing behind her eyes. She knew there was nothing she could do or say to change the situation, but she continued to plead, anyway.

  “Emily, please. Don’t do this.”

  Emily was unfazed by Harper’s request. She frantically grabbed anything and everything that might be pertinent to her impending journey, even scouring the kitchen for food she could take with her. She went back into her bedroom to do one more sweep, just in case she missed anything. Harper followed her, her muscles tensing up with every step. Her eyes couldn’t handle the number of tears welling up anymore, and they began to fall freely down her face. Emily chaotically opened and shut her drawers one by one, each slam getting louder and louder. Harper stood there watching her sister about to self-destruct.

  “Emily, can we please talk about this. I think you’re being a little irrational.”

  Emily scoffed at her sister’s statement as she grabbed a wad of cash out of her top drawer. “Irrational? Are you fucking kidding me? You’re trying to convince me to stay and you’re doing so by insulting me?”

  Harper relented. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just…I really need you to stay, okay? Please. I know…I know it’s been difficult. And I know I’ve been hard to live with. I just worry about you. You’re seventeen. I’m just trying to do the best I can for you.”

  Emily stopped for a moment and turned to face her sister. “I can’t stay here anymore. Don’t you get it? I can’t do this. I can’t be here anymore. I can’t keep being reminded of everything. And the fact that you’re constantly breathing down my neck just makes it worse.”

  “Well what do you want me to do? Just not give a shit?”

  “You do what you want. Let me do what I want,” replied Emily as she headed out the bedroom door.

  “Fine. Do what you want. Just do it here. Please.” Harper tried blocking her from leaving the room, but Emily managed to evade her.

  Emily shook her head as she walked past her sister. “I have to go.”

  Harper followed her once again. “You don�
��t even have a car. How are going to get anywhere.”

  “It’s called public transportation.”

  “Can you at least tell me where you’re going?” pleaded Harper.

  “I really couldn’t tell you. I won’t know until I get there.”

  “Can you please spare me the typical clichés of a runaway?”

  Emily got to the front door and threw her duffle bag over her shoulder. Harper grabbed Emily by the arm and pulled her in for a hug. It was her last-ditch effort to keep her sister here. Maybe in this one embrace, she could prove to her sister how much she needed her to stay. Harper’s arms began shaking as she pulled her sister in closer to her, crying into her shoulder.

  Emily allowed her sister this one last hug. She even mildly returned the embrace for a moment before she pulled herself away and opened the door.

  Harper stood there searching for anything else to say. Emily gave her one last look before she walked out the door. She was halfway down the driveway when Harper yelled after her.

  “Emily! I can’t get through this without you!”

  Emily heard her, but kept walking.

  ***

  An irksome scraping sound filled Harper’s ears. She realized she was moving her straw up and down inside the lid of her cup and the grating sound of plastic on plastic was enough to make her pull her hand away. She thought for a moment, then looked up at Finn.

  “Have you ever just woken up one day and realize you have no idea who you are? Like the person you were five or ten years ago is the person you always thought you’d be?” She wasn’t expecting an answer. She was just sort of throwing her words out there to see if any of them made sense when they were spoken. “Because when I try to think about it, I can barely catch a glimmer of that girl.”