Page 47 of Secondhand Smoke
“Since when do you give a shit about being on time anyways?”
Barrett shook his head and walked out of the open garage door. “Goodbye.” Instead of waving, he flicked them his middle finger.
17 - Nell
Nell’s eyes stung as she dumped the contents of KC’s box on the ground. Guitar picks and strings, tapes, and a Tina Turner sticker fell out, but no folded-up paper.
Nell’s fingers ran through her hair and fisted large chunks into her grasp as she pulled. Stinging broke out through her scalp and ran down her spine. She’d lost KC’s song.
She had no idea how long it had been missing. She used to look at it every single day, yet days had passed since she’d seen it, and she hadn’t even realized.
Ever since she’d gotten involved with Barrett and his friends, her mind had been preoccupied. And look what happened.
What if she had accidentally left it out and her mom thought it was trash? What if it was already gone, burning in some dump somewhere?
Her breathing shallowed. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might give out at any second.
She’d lost a part of KC, the only part she could see or touch or hear anymore.
She fell to the ground, and her knees rose to her chest. She didn’t have the strength to hold herself up anymore, so she tucked herself into a tight ball, arms banded around her legs and her head resting on her knees.
Silent sobs shook through her, tears soaking into the denim of her pants.
She cried until her throat was raw and her eyes were dry. When there was nothing left, she stayed there until the light outside her window went dark and the clock ticked on for what felt like forever.
She could have easily sat there on her bedroom floor for days. The knock on her door was what stirred her out of it.
“Honey? Are you still going out to see your friend tonight?”
Nell’s head rose off her legs. Aside from the light streaming in under her bedroom door, it was pitch black. She couldn’t see her clock, but she knew that it was well past the time for her lessons with Barrett.
Her mother tapped softly on the door again, repeating her name.
Going to learn guitar without KC’s song was useless. What good was wasting her time anymore?
But the more she considered ditching Barrett and his offer of lessons, the more her chest tightened.
She could sit in here and wallow in the depths of despair, but thinking of sitting on Barrett’s couch while strumming guitar and listening to him talk about music with that passionate glimmer. . . A hint of relief flooded her at the mere idea.
“Yes,” Nell managed to answer without her voice sounding too raspy. She stood up, sighing at the ache in her legs and back.
Her mother offered her usual ride, which Nell declined, then reminded her to be home by a respectable time and handed her a new batch of chocolate chip cookies to share.
On the ride down the hill from her house, Nell continued to fight her internal battle.
She’d failed KC by losing her music. Now, she betrayed her again by running away to someone else to rid herself of the guilt.
And yet, she couldn’t stop herself. She continued down the dark road, across town, until she was back in front of Barrett’s house.
She never had to wonder if Barrett was home or not. The sound of a Def Leppard song playing through the thin walls was enough of an answer.
She took a deep breath and knocked on the screen door.
A few seconds later, and after the tumble of footsteps inside, the single porch light flicked on.
The door opened to Barrett wearing his usual mix of dark jeans and a white band shirt as he looked down at her with a tilted smile. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”
“Sorry,” Nell said and held out the container of cookies. “As compensation.”
