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Chapter 28— A New Life
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January 1st ushered in not only a new year but a new chance for me. A new life. The morning sunrise slipped through the cracks of the dirty windows and fell across my eyes, rousing me out of cold sleep. Every muscle felt stiff, still bottling up whatever excitement was leftover from last night. Last night…
When my eyes finally peeled open, they found a mop of black hair sunk into the pillow beside me. Rodrick was still asleep. A low buzz-like snore vibrated in his chest as he slept. I lifted myself off of the pillow and watched him for a few moments, noticing the way his eyes danced under the lids and the way his lip would fall open just a bit. Seeing him like that…It made me wonder how I ever could’ve seen him any differently. It made me think how I could’ve walked away and had nothing to do with him, how I could’ve avoided all the pain and suffering that came after. But then I wouldn’t have been there with him. I wouldn’t have been able to touch the soft bare skin of his shoulder as I did. Or drape my head next to his chest as I did.
And as I lay there beside him, my eyes drifted across the room until finally landing on a poster right across from his bed. Anarchy Road’s poster. All the memories of the past few weeks suddenly came flooding back to me in one suffocating instant. The sinking feeling that one gets when one knows they have to return that stolen wallet overcame me. The next part would suck. There would probably be a lot of yelling and maybe some threats. But I had to do the right thing. That time, on my own.
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The screech of tires and the jolting stop of the van lifted me off my seat. My back landed on the musty, cracked leather cushion. The steel doors vibrated with the jagged bass sound of an old Weezer song playing from Rodrick’s radio. I released a long-held and shaky sigh. It’s like ripping off a band-aid, I told myself. A big, super-glue-coated band-aid.
“Hey,” said a voice in the driver’s seat. There beside me was Rodrick in his new flannel shirt his mom got him for Christmas and his old beat-up boots. He leaned around the steering wheel to check on me. “You’ve been quiet the whole way here. Everything okay?”
I nodded. No amount of coddling and sugar-coating would ease my fears. Today was the first day back at school after the long Christmas break. Today would be the first day I’d grace the halls of Crossland High and have to look everyone in the eye. But most importantly, today would be the first day that I would enter those doors not as Jenny Tyler but as me—the real and true me.
Rodrick watched me still. I knew he expected some long, heartfelt spiel about how nervous I was or how I didn’t think I could go through with it. But I somehow didn’t feel up to the task. All I wanted was to turn the van around, drive back to Rodrick’s place, and spend the day jamming to The Misfits and making out. And I knew that if I asked him, he’d already have the engine up and running.
But I made a promise—to myself, to the band, and to my parents. This was what I wanted. This is why I postponed the tour and nearly made Marcus cry. This is why Valerie flew all the way down from New Jersey to make sure I wasn’t going crazy. This is why I nearly got kicked out of the band. Because I wanted this. Because I wanted to finish school.
“Philly?”
I turned. He had that worried expression again needing reassurance that I wasn’t about to jump out of the van and run. He even crept a hand around my shoulder and massaged my neck. I turned off the Weezer song on the radio, and we both sat in silence. Rodrick’s hand fell away and his face froze up.
“Oh, god, you’re breaking up with me.”
“What? No,” I exclaimed, whipping my head around at him.
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“Oh, thank god.” An awkward yet relieved chuckle filled the silence as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought maybe I did something wrong.”
“What made you think that?”
“I dunno.” He shrugged. “I do a lot of things wrong.” He noticed my hands clenched around my backpack. “This is about today, right?”
I said nothing.
His hand crept towards me again and wrapped around my clenched ones. “We can get out of here if you want. I’m not really psyched about going back either. I got two new Weezer CDs for Christmas. We can chill in the garage.” His hand began sliding from my hand down to my knee. “If you want…”
I smirked and clamped my knees down onto his hand. He yelped and pulled his hand away as if a snake had bitten him. “It’s, like, 7 a.m.”
“So?” he jabbed, nursing his bruised hand. “You didn’t care yesterday.”
I peered out of the window at all the cars pulling into the student parking lot and all the kids making their way to the open school doors. Amidst the crowd, I caught sight of Angie and Jeremy entering the doors, her old satchel slung over her back and her hand knit into his. I smiled and my conscience took the reins once again.
“I want things to be different.”
Rodrick cocked his eyebrow and leaned back in his seat. “Like different classes, or…?”
“I want to make friends. I want to not be nervous walking to class. And I want to smoke with you after school and not during like normal people do.”
“And we can’t do that?”
My face tightened up as I saw my reflection in the side mirror—my red hair wild and curly, my black eyeshadow, my Radiohead tee-shirt. I was really in for it. I was walking straight into a nightmare. “They’re gonna be pissed at me,” I said with my head hanging low and my eyes cast to the floor.
Rodrick was quiet for a moment before leaning over and kissing the side of my mouth. “Let them be pissed. You’re Philly fucking Emmett. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to this stupid school. If anyone says anything, I’ll be there. I promise.”
I chuckled. “At this rate, you’re gonna get suspended for me.”
“I don’t care.” His lips overtook mine, hungry and protective. His hands dug in my curls and tickled the little hairs on the back of my neck. Electricity shot through my skin at his touch, just like it did every time. I’d never get used to him—the smell of Axe and Red Hots, the taste of spearmint toothpaste and cigarettes on his lips. And when he finally pulled away, I felt colder and just a bit frustrated.
“If you really don’t feel right about it, I brought something, just in case.” Rodrick leaned over the backseat, digging through empty chip bags and amps to find his beat-up backpack. He shoved a hand in, fishing around until finally pulling it out. He handed over a pair of black-framed glasses just a little too big for my face—Jenny Tyler’s glasses. Looking at them after so long felt like looking back on a distant memory, no, a distant nightmare. One that haunted my every thought and brought back a world of regrets. How had I ever thought that was what I should’ve been? Jenny Tyler did nothing but destroy my relationship with Rodrick, Angie, and my mother. And I thought for so long that I needed her more than I needed myself—that she was more of the “real me” than anything else ever could be. How could I look up to something like that? How?
My eyes passed over the side mirror once again. There were my imperfections. The bumps of acne around my hairline. The dark circles from all the late-night phone conversations with the boy next to me. The barely-concealable hickeys peppering my neck and collarbone. My lips, chapped and raw. I glanced down at the glasses in my hand. Familiar words that pricked my skin like pins formed in the back of my mind.
People love you, Phil. Not because you’re some big rock star or whatever but because you’re worth looking up to. You work hard and you love hard. You show us what we all need a little bit more of.
Valerie had once said that to me. I thought she’d been gassing me up. Maybe she’d said it to shake me off of Rodrick. But maybe it was neither of those things. Maybe I should’ve listened a little more carefully.
I took the glasses in my hands and raised them over my lap. And in one clean jerk of my wrist, the glasses snapped in two, crumbling into bits of plastic on my lap.
Fuck Jenny Tyler.
Rodrick stared, mouth agape and eyes wide. He looked back and forth between me and the glasses, not quite understanding. Yet, the smile on my face was unmistakable. I was done hiding. Whether it was the glasses or the anorexia or the fame, I was done with it all. Stepping out of the van, I’d have no choice. I’d have to be Philadelphia Emmett. Me. And I’d never felt freer.
Rodrick blinked a few times, his words hesitant and soft. “Are you sure?”
I took his hand in mine, felt the warmth and the strength. Hands that fought for me and made my head spin. Hands that strummed a guitar on stage while singing a song for me. Hands that crept over mine holding an ice pack over a bruised jaw. Hands that ran down the curves of my hips in the most perfect way. Hands that plucked a cigarette from my fingers, leaving me speechless and utterly dazed. Those hands. Those wonderful, dirtbag hands.
“Yeah,” I said, smiling and kicking open the van door like I’d seen him do a hundred times before. “I’m sure.”
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The End.
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A/N: Thank you everyone for reading Anarchy Road and giving lots of love and support to this story! Each story and fanfic I put out there means so much to me but it means even more to me when I know there are people out there who will fall in love with the characters and the message. I want to encourage everyone who has followed this story to the end to always be true to you and good things are sure to follow. Please check out some of the other great books and fanfics I have on my page and stay on the lookout for new content. And as my best friend says, don't forget to love yourself.
Melody
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