Lennon's Jinx by Chris Myers Page A

lush in our group. She drinks enough for two of us. I’ve only gotten
really drunk once since the night I lost everything precious to me. “That’s
because Zach was at the same party. You know I’m mush around him.”
    “You
broke up two years ago.”
    I
don’t mention it’s been about the same time since she last dated Byron, and she
still hasn’t gotten over him. “I know. I can’t help that I still like him. I
promise to keep walking-straight sober.”
    “I’ll
hold you to that, so that you can help with Iz.”
    “I
will. I’ll call her and Gabby.”
    “I’ll
pick you up in a half hour.”
    I
press End and listen by the door. Step-monster is still milling about the
kitchen. He had better leave shortly, or I’ll be stuck here for the night.
    My
closet and now my floor are stuffed with clothes I’ve already worn. After I
make some mula , I’m going shopping. I dig through and find my royal blue
suede skirt, matching tights, red stilettos, and a red shimmering top. It hides
the fact my chest is almost a sinkhole. If I ever get rich, I am getting a boob
job.
    While
I’m pulling up my tights, I stare at the photo of Zach and me at Navy Pier. It
sits on the nightstand by my bed. I miss him. We were sewn together at the hip
after I moved here at the beginning of sixth grade. He had his own band, and he
loved my dad’s weekend warrior band. Zach had noticed them on YouTube before we
moved here from Kansas.
    I
wanted to join Zach’s band. I still do. The other members don’t want a girl, so
Zach jammed and wrote music with me whenever he was free. We should’ve been
each other’s first on my sixteenth birthday, but he hooked up with Kelly shortly
after our breakup.
    If
I hadn’t gotten so drunk that night, a few weeks before my birthday, we’d still
be together. It hurts every time I look at his photo, but I can’t seem to take
it down.
    I
peek out to search for Step-monster. He’s not in the hall, so I sneak back into
the bathroom where I apply enough foundation to hide my freckles and the bruise
yellowing my cheek. It still hurts. I combine shades of copper and pink to my
eyes then ruby red to my lips and plenty of mascara to bring out my green eyes.
    After
scrunching my now straight hair, I tiptoe back to my room, slink inside, and
lock the door. I slip into my shoes. Lord, I hate being short.
    My
phone honks again. It’s another text from Lennon, so I ignore this one. What
else does he want?
    I
can’t believe I walked into his warehouse today without a clue, but the band’s name
wasn’t listed in the paper. I knew Lennon had a band. Everyone does. Even Zach
thinks Lennon’s Indigo Blues Band is totally fly. For a while, I thought he had
something for the big guy the way he gushed about him. Everyone else does.
    Lennon’s
band is so incredible I’ll never fit in if I don’t learn to read music. Clive’s
as big a ho as Lennon, and Danny mentioned a girl named Susan. I hope that’s
his sister. He’s temptingly cute.
    I
mess with my hair some more. It’s my best feature, and I’m getting used to it
being straight.
    The
clock next to Zach’s picture ticks away the time. Rena will be here in another twenty
minutes, and Step-monster hasn’t left. I sit on my bed and chew my nails. Damn
Him. He needs to leave now.
    A
photo of my dad sits opposite of Zach’s. He’s holding me and his guitar in his
arms. I was five or six at the time. It’s one of my favorite pictures of us
together.
    When
I was little, I’d crawl onto his lap while he played guitar. The hum of the
mahogany body vibrated against my stomach, tickling and warming me inside. Dad
gave me my love of music. It started on his lap, listening to him sing, feeling
the music swirl inside me.
    “Why
did you have to die?” I ask, picking up the photo.
    Under
a mountain of medical bills, we moved here, closer to Mom’s family after Dad passed
away. I know it was hard for Mom, but did she have to marry Step-monster?
    Searching
for my