Bea & the Broken Record

Chapter 8: Secrets

"Oh yeah, Ben. Tons," I joked lightly.

"Alright guys, enough of the sexual innuendos," Quentin said absentmindedly.

It was only a matter of seconds before the curtain moved and there we were. Jamming out heavily, not giving a care in the world. But there was one thing that threw off my performance when that curtain moved.

Bea was no longer sitting at the bar with the bottle of water I got for her. She was walking out the door of the bar, wiping one eye free of what I assumed was a tear.

I knew I couldn't bail on my band mates then. They would kill me and Roger could possible take our playing nights away from us. They would never forgive me for that. What about Bea? She was probably crying her eyes out, worrying about something that I didn't care about. It hurt a little that her parents were that judgmental at times, but I wasn't offended. You are always going to have people like that. No matter where you go, they are always there.

So, for the moment I lost myself in the sound of my voice and the hum of my guitar.

Sweat dripping down my face and soaking my hair, I swiped across my forehead to dry it. The guys were already behind the stage relaxing while music played throughout the bar. I could hear glasses clinking together as people cheered to whatever, chattering in every corner of the room, and pool balls smacking against each other.

"I'm going to step outside and get some air, try to find Bea," I told Brody while rubbing the back of my neck. He pursed his lips and nodded his head.

"She looked upset. What happened?" He asked with concern. I wanted to tell him, but now was not the right time.

"I'll have to explain later. Right now I just need to find her," I slapped his back and pushed through the thick crowd of people. Some were drunk and some were getting there. I finally squeezed through the double doors at the entrance of the building and entered into the cool night air. It was chilly with a slight breeze that gave me goosebumps even with my flannel shirt on.

I looked all around myself in hopes to see Bea standing around. The moon was up now, a full moon that gave me the perfect amount of lighting to see out into the parking lot. I jogged over to the car and looked inside to see if she had maybe gotten back in or fell asleep in the back seat. My worst fear was that she would have tried to walk home by herself in the dark.

I slammed the door shut and brought my fists down on top of the car in frustration. Running a hand through my damp hair, I looked up and out at the lake that was nearby the bar. There, on the dock, was a girl with dark hair and a white dress on. I knew it was Bea immediately because of the small bag sitting beside her on the dock. I walked slowly over towards her, not taking my eyes off her swaying hair because I was afraid she would disappear from my sight again.

My steps were heavy against the old wooden dock as I came up behind Bea. She never moved or flinched once, though I was almost sure she knew I was there.

"You can sit down," Bea finally spoke up clearly and quietly. I sighed at the content sound of her voice and sat down beside her easily, cross crossing my legs on the dock.

"Hey," I hesitantly said. Bea turned her head to look at me, causing her hair to blow across her face. She pursed her lips and a small, apologetic smile spread across her face.

"Sorry if I ruined your night. Or if my parents did. I knew it would happen," she shook her head and ran her hand down her face roughly. I put my arms around her shoulders and scooted over closer to her. She had to be cold in this breeze with the thin dress she had on.