And at that moment, I believed him. Life was spiraling out of control, and I was not equipped to deal with any of it. Three weeks ago I’d been an immature, selfish brat whose biggest worry was whether another classmate would come to school in the same outfit I was wearing. And now I was trying to hold a family intact on frayed strings that were unraveling faster than I could bind them backtogether.
“Give her the knife,” Quinn wailed. So much for keeping the poor kid in the dark! He was going to be scarred for life after the five minutes he’djusthad.
“Get out of my room,” Kyle demanded, pointing the knife at the twoofus.
He was wildly unstable, and protecting Quinn became my only focus. I couldn’t help Kyle, and at this point, I doubted anyone could. I slowly backed out of his room, never taking my eyes off him. His misery took my breath away. Then the door slammed inmyface.
I found Grace watching TV, seemingly oblivious to the drama surrounding her. Setting Quinn down, I stared at my little siblings. If this was our new normal, what was their life going to be like from this pointforward?
“I’m hungry.” Quinn sniffed throughhissobs.
“I know. I’ll go make some food. Just stay here. I’ll come get you when it’sready.”
As soon as I left the little ones, I searched the house for my father. Gone. I knocked on Keith’s door. No answer. I headed back to my mother and again roused her from hersleep.
“Mom. Kyleneedsyou.”
“I’m sleeping,” shemumbled.
“Well, then maybe you better wake up, unless you want to lose another son,” I replied, angrily. “He’s in his room cutting himself with a knife, if youevencare.”
Mom bolted upright, her hair a tangled mess. “What are you talkingabout?”
“Kyle. He needs his mother. Pull yourself together andbeone!”
8
Finn: The GoldenTicket
Pullinginto the parking lot of the offsite ticket booth, I watched a composed Emma instantly transform beforemyeyes.
A heavy sigh escaped her. “Oh,great.”
I whipped my head in the direction of her frustration and groaned myself at the horde of people lined up for tickets. It appeared half ablocklong.
“Crap,” she said. “Do you need me to gowithyou?”
Suddenly I felt like a toddler in need of his mommy. “I just… I have no flippin’ clue how I’m supposed to do this,” I answered, desperate for her to stay not only because I was dense and needed direction but also because I just really wanted her to stay. “Why don’t you wait in the air conditioning while I standinline?”
Emma looked conflicted. I knew then that it wasn’t the heat that was bothering her but the extra attention that would be required to attend to my needs. Clearly, she hadn’t bargained on her good deed costing her somuchtime.
“No, maybe I can find a faster way,” she said, making her decision and sticking to it. “Let’sgo.”
A furnace of heat settled over us upon exiting the vehicle. Now I really felt bad for dragging her out with me. But Emma didn’t seem affected by the temperature. She was focused on the task at hand as we made our way toward the crowd of people. As far as I could see, there were two lines: one forVIP guests, the block-long one; and one with only a few people in it, for passes comped by the festival artists themselves. Emma studied the signs a moment before confidently choosing the shorter line. Yep, I was digging this can-doattitude.
The first time I saw her staring at me through the windshield of her car, I knew she was a force to be reckoned with. With her straight, white-blonde hair, tanned complexion, and those golden sunglasses disguising her appearance, I thought I was looking at Hollywood Barbie, the Collector’s Edition. But since real life Barbie dolls didn’t actually exist, other than on creepy YouTube videos, my next assumption was that she was a celebrity making her way to the music festival. It certainly wouldn’t have been unusual to have one of her kind out in the desert all by herself. With its proximity to Los Angeles, this three-day event brought out the rich and famous in droves. And this girl definitely had the dazzling starlet thinggoingon.
I knew the type well. Working in the industry, woman who looked like her typically had their own trailers and didn’t associate withthe help… although I could say with a small level of pride that I’d been known to catch the eye of B listers from time to time, thank you very much. But this woman was at the top of the alphabet, for sure. I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly where she fit in on the Hollywoodlandscape.
Yet surprisingly, Emma wasn’t flaunting whatever it was that elevated her to the higher level I assumed her to be. In fact, she was giving me no clues at all. I was used to women presenting to me their full (and messy) life stories by the end of a ten-minute, one-sided conversation, so this restrained demeanor had me on edge and longing for something of substance to hold onto. Instinctively I knew Emma was the type of person who revealed herself one tantalizing detail at a time. I just wanted to be somewhere in the vicinity when ithappened.
“How do you know which line to stand in?” Iasked.
“I don’t. Educatedguess.”
“See, I don’t think so,” I replied, teasing. “You just don’t want to get into that amusement park line overthere.”
She smiled, not refuting myclaim.
