Bea & the Broken Record

Chapter 4: The Getaway

I found a pair of jeans on my dresser that I pulled on and a black t-shirt in my drawer. There were clothes everywhere on my floor yet I didn't pick them up. It was a normal thing for me.

I knew we had to leave the barn at three so we could start driving to the bar we were playing at a bar and grill a few towns over. We planned on eating before, getting to the bar by five, and playing at six. Since I added Bea to the plan, we had to leave a little earlier to pick her up. Though I was sure we'd have plenty of time.

After fixing myself to look and smell great, I grabbed my guitar, notebook, and jacket and headed out the door. The guys were all downstairs getting their instruments ready and feeding their faces. I raced over to the door and shoved it open, making it stay open long enough to get my guitar case and myself through. Popping the trunk open, I propped my case in the back of the van we had. It was a warm day out, which I was thankful for. We'd be able to roll the windows down if Ben decided to rip one.

I walked back inside and stood by the door. "Ready?" I asked aloud. Ben looked up at me with a piece of toast hanging hallway out his mouth.

"Yep. Let's roll. Quentin, got the keyboard?" Brody, the drummer slash manager for all of us. Quentin held his keyboard above his head.

"Got it," he answered before taking his phone out of his pocket. Grayson was sitting on the couch with his guitar case laying across his lap, texting whatever girl he was dating this week. I walked over to him and grabbed his guitar case.

"Your guitar had better be in here," I wanted him and picked up the case. I felt its heaviness and I knew it was in there, knowing that he wouldn't have cared anyway.

Once we were all in the van, Brody in the driver's seat, Quentin in the passenger seat and Grayson and Ben in the very back seat, we started driving toward Bea's house. I went to grab my phone so I could call and tell her we were almost there, but then I remembered I never got her number. I was supposed to text her the details. And I never got to talk to her at school. Did she even remember?

I decided to keep that to myself since I was sure the guys - especially Quentin - would get their panties in a wad.

I gave Brody the directions though he should've known where she lived anyway. The car ride there was quiet with only the static music from the radio playing quietly.

"There," I pointed through the windshield when we reached her house. It looked even bigger to me for some reason as we pulled up in front of it.

"Hurry up." Brody told me as I hopped out of the van and walked casually up to the door. I expected to hear a sarcastic remark from someone in the van, but to my surprise, they didn't.

I was about to knock on the front door when I heard a pssst sound from beside me. I turned around quickly at the van. Not one of them was looking at me. Then I heard it again, this time to my left. I turned and saw Bea standing, more like hiding, behind one the neatly trimmed bushes along their porch.

"What are you doing right there?" I asked her. She gave me a sly smile and kneeled down beside her.

"I forgot about coming with you. You were supposed to text me," she muttered accusingly yet still had a smile on her face.

"You never gave me your number. Besides, that doesn't explain why you're hiding behind a bush," I replied with a chuckle. Her smile faltered for just a moment before she laughed at herself.

"Oh. That's why you never texted me," she said more to herself. "Anyway, my parents think I'm at a friend's. So, we need to make this getaway fast. I need to grab some money from my room." She said as she stood up cautiously from behind the bush. I noticed she had on dark skinny jeans that fit her figure and a pair of black converses much like my own. Her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, only a thin pin holding back the front. Her hazel eyes were bright with mischief.