After Nic left, I felt more at ease at home and in the studio. Taylor came close to yelling at me for what I wrote in my thank-yous, but there was no time to redo them. So that's the way they'll be on the album. It wasn't until after they were taken from me when I had second thoughts about what I wrote.
Now I was getting ready for my second date with Lauryn. For some reason, I was looking forward to it. She came off as very puzzling, and I wanted to figure it out. I still didn't know her at all, even though we talked on the phone for over an hour yesterday.
I'm starting to like her. Her voice isn't as annoying and she lets me talk if I have something to say. We're going to dinner at some restaurant she wanted to go to. How original. I'd suggested a whole bunch of places to go, fun places, but no, they weren't good enough for her. So, until I can get her whip off me, we'll go on sorry dates like the movies and restaurants.
Taylor walked in my room as I was getting ready. "Tay, I know you love me and you miss sharing a room with me, but it doesn't mean I want to see your ugly face every five minutes."
"Funny. So you're going out with Lauryn again?" he asked. He knew the answer; he'd only asked a million times today. I didn't answer him. "Well?"
"Taylor, how many times have you asked me that today?"
"Two. Once an hour ago and now. You didn't answer then and you're not answering me now." I shook my head.
"Try ten times since this morning, and I answered you every time. Yes, I'm going out with Lauryn tonight."
"Why? I thought you didn't like her."
"I do like her. I just got mad at her last time. She's less annoying now than she was in the beginning. But I really like her�is it cold out?"
"I really like her�is it cold out?" Taylor asked. "What kind of question is that?"
"I want to know if I should bring a jacket or not." Taylor nodded.
"Yeah, it's supposed to be cold tonight. Where are you going?"
"Some restaurant."
"A restaurant? That's so not you. Where's the park, where's the whole romantic escapade you'll sweep her off to?"
"No, she wanted to go to a restaurant. I didn't want to make her mad."
"You're whipped already."
"No, I just don't want to make her mad. I've done enough already. I'm really starting to like this girl and I don't want to ruin another date."
"You're whipped, face it. She's got you tied on her apron strings." I shook my head and grabbed my leather jacket from my closet and picked up my keys.
"Whatever. I'm going."
"When are you going to be back?" he asked. I groaned.
"You're not my father, Tay. Or my mother."
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, getting slightly defensive.
"You look like a girl!" I laughed to myself and left the room. "Don't be poking around in my stuff, Taylor." I knew that was the first thing he's going to do. I headed down the stairs and out the front door.
I got to Lauryn's house a bit later. I was nervous about who'd answer the door. If it wasn't Lauryn, and it most likely wouldn't be, how would they react to me? I'm sure she's had enough people come to the door asking for her, but how many of them were self-proclaimed druggie rock stars?
I walked up to her front door and rang the doorbell. As I waited for someone to answer, I tapped my foot against the ground and my thumbs against my legs. It was a habit I acquired since I started to play the drums.
The door opened and a butler-like person showed up. "May I help you?" he asked. She had a butler? And what I could see from the inside of her large home, she had a very extravagant life.
"Hi. I'm Zac, I'm here to pick up Lauryn," I said. He gave me the once-over, then nodded.
"Wait here." He closed the door. I stuck out my tongue to the closed door. Even the butler's rude! No wonder Lauryn acted that way. I waited, still tapping. It was really starting to get cold out here, now that the sun went down. Why was it getting so cold? It was almost summer.
The door opened and Lauryn stepped out. "I'm sorry for Mick, he doesn't like me to date."
"Who is he?"
"Our butler." So I was right. She is rich. Sure, I have money too but my home is far from this, and I'd never hire a butler. I can open my own doors, thank you. "So, let's go." She bounced in front of me, her hair bobbing as she made her way to the car.
I walked behind her, catching up enough so I could open the door for her. She seemed a bit shocked by the gesture. "I never really pictured you as the gentlemanly type."
"Gentlemanly? Big words today, huh?" I asked. She gave me a look. "I'm kidding."
"You better be." She got into the car and I closed the door for her before walking around the car to my side.
"So where's this restaurant you were talking about?"
"You did call in the reservations, didn't you?" she asked. I nodded. "Okay. It's just down the road here. It's on the right hand side after the second light."
"I thought it was farther than that."
"I told you on the phone last night that it was just down the road!" Her voice pierced my ear as it rose lightly in tone. It was really annoying.
"Please don�t do that; your voice is incredibly annoying at high levels." Why did I tell her that?
"I'm sorry, I don't control the tone of my voice."
"Yes you do!"
"Listen, if you're going to just yell at me, then you can take me home."
"I'm sorry. I guess the idea of being with you is actually better than being with you."
"Shut up." She giggled despite the harsh tone in her voice. "And the feeling's mutual."
"So we have a mutual hatred towards each other. Perfect!"
"I still want to be with you."
"Me too," I said. What the hell was this? We didn't even like each other but we still wanted to be together. It was such an odd way to start a relationship out...oh God. Is this a relationship? Is she going to expect me to call her and go out with her every weekend? Does she expect to be introduced as 'Lauryn, my girlfriend?' I don't know if I quite yet want people knowing I've stooped this level. She's an airhead for God's sake! I don't have relationships with cheerleading airheads! I go for girls with the brain, who get A's in school and expect to go to college and have a career with a Ph.D. What the hell am I doing? But there's that something about her, something I can't quite pinpoint, but I know I like it and it makes me actually want to put up with the annoying voice and the fact that she has no hips.
"It's right up here, Zac," she said, pointing to a restaurant in a plaza. I pulled in and parked. "They have valet, you know."
"You can walk."
"Why walk when we can go up there?"
"Because I don't feel like spending the money to have someone else park my car. I don't trust valets anyway. You have legs, you can walk, Lauryn."
"But..."
"Don't whine and stop acting like a spoiled brat! Walk!" I got out of the car. I never did trust valets, they go through your things and take whatever they please. I keep a lot of stuff in my car that I don't exactly want valets poking their noses into.
"I'm not," she whined. I rolled my eyes and let her open her own door. This was a trip.
We got into the restaurant, with Lauryn consistently complaining about having to walk. I didn't understand it; it wasn't that far to walk. "I just hope you didn't get a table near the kitchen," she said.
"Shut up."
"You got a table near the kitchen?!"
"No, I didn't. Stop complaining or I'll sit you in the kitchen!" I told her, and walked up to a waitress. "I have a reservation."
"Name," she asked, not looking up.
"Hanson. There's two of us." She scanned the list then looked up. Her eyes widened. She knew me. Shit! The last thing I needed was to have a waitress freak out at the sight of me, especially with Lauryn next to me. I waited for her to scream, stammer, blink, or something. "Now's when you show us to our table."
"Oh, I'm sorry." She squirmed nervously. "This way, please." She walked towards the back of the restaurant. Lauryn and I followed her. I hate running into fans. It ruins my night wherever I go, because I can't be myself. With them, I have to be something they approve of. I can't swear, I can't say anything without it being analyzed over and over, written everywhere for all to see. It's times like these that I want to just shrink away and never reemerge again.
"Is there something wrong?" Lauryn asked after the waitress left. I picked up the menu and looked through it.
"No."
"Yes there is. You look ready to run out of here. What's wrong?"
"It's that waitress. She knows who I am and I hate going places when people know me. It makes me feel like I have to be someone I'm not, kinda like they're watching my every move. It makes me the main focus and I just want to be nobody."
"Do you want to leave? We can always go somewhere else, where there's less people, or nobody at all." She sounded like Nic; like she understood what I'm going through. It scared me.
"No, it's all right. If she asks about you, though, we're leaving."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want your face everywhere! I don't want people mad at you and I don't want you to end up like me."
"What's so wrong with you?"
"I can't go anywhere without the side glances, the whispers and the stares of everyone around me. People have gotten over the screaming and chasing me, but everywhere I go someone knows me. I hate attention to begin with, and now it's like I want to get away from it all."
"I have somewhere we can go."
"Where?" she just smiled.
"This is great," I said, laying down and enjoying the view of the cold night. We were on top of the world, so to speak. We were actually sitting on the roof of an abandoned warehouse in the suburbs. There was nothing but land, which really made me wonder why this warehouse was in the middle of it all.
"Yeah, my dad used to own this. He technically still does, but he moved the business to somewhere bigger and nobody really wanted the place."
"Well it's in the middle of nowhere!" I smiled. I liked this, being nowhere, nobody caring that you're there or not. You can just lay around, unaffected, in peace. "So what are you thinking?" I asked. She had to be thinking something.
"How much I don't like you," she kidded. I laughed. "Seriously, I'm not thinking much."
"Are you really the airhead you make yourself out to be?" I asked, not caring much if I offended her.
"To tell you the truth, yes."
"Really? So you're an airheaded cheerleader with nothing to say for yourself but a giggle and a 'like, whatever?' "
"Yeah. It's just how I am."
"I personally think you sound very intelligent right now. You just have a really annoying, squeaky voice." She shrugged. "Why do you act like that, though?"
"Cause it's easier. All my friends talk this way, they all act the way I do. I don't like being smart, because then I'm not accepted."
"My brother pulled the airhead thing for years. When he finally acted the way he really is, he was more respected."
"No, I'd rather be the way I am. More people know me like this, and I'm too lazy to change. I like who I am." I rolled over on my stomach and looked up at her. No matter how much she could annoy me, she was still traffic-stopping 'Oh my God look at her' beautiful. "Do you like the way I am?"
"You're all right. I can't say I've ever dated someone like you before."
"Really? Why?"
"I've never been interested in people like you before. You can be very stereotypical at times."
"You talk like you know me."
"What's there to know?"
"A lot of things," she told me.
"Like what? You're a cheerleader who can't tell how to get from point A to point B without getting confused and having to stop and ask for directions. You've had 50 boyfriends in the past year; your father is rich and gives you everything you want. You laugh and giggle at anything just to be cute. The only reason you want to be with me is because I have money, I'm a celebrity, and I'm hot." I noticed she wasn't disagreeing with anything I said. "I've seen people like you, I regret to say I've fucked people like you. You're the same as the rest of them. You're interested in fancy restaurants and out of the blue expensive jewelry to add to your collection. Face it, Lauryn, you're the typical 5'4" blonde hair, blue eyed, one hundred and fifteen pound ditz that can't tell the difference between your breasts and your brain."
"Excuse me, but I am one hundred and ten pounds."
"Oh, sorry, however will you forgive me?" I asked, rolling my eyes.
"Do you want me to say what I think about you, since we're being stereotypical tonight?"
"Go right ahead." She thought about it. While she was thinking, I sat up and looked at her.
"All right. You appreciate your fame and you love what you do but you wish you could get away from it all. You'd rather be nobody than somebody, but your relationship with people is the most important thing. You keep to yourself, your only escape is your music."
"And my art," I interrupted. She was doing a good job so far. "Go on."
"That's all I can think of. You're not very stereotypical."
"I try not to be. I'll finish it for you. My relationships are important. I trust on an instinct, but my instinct isn't great. I trust all the wrong people and I always get hurt in the end."
"You do?"
"Yeah. I've been hurt enough times by people I love to lose all trust for anybody, but for some reason I still believe in people. I'm a lover, I cling to things that will probably never happen again."
"Is this about Nic?" she asked.
"How do you know about Nic?" I asked, confused. Who told her about Nic? I've never mentioned her before. I never wanted to mention her before.
"Taylor mentioned you were hung up over this girl name Nic, I just figured you were talking about her. Are you still in love with her?"
"No," I lied. "I still think about her, I still wonder about her, but I don't still love her."
"All right." I could tell she was skeptical. I really didn't care if she believed me or not, she was getting too close to know me better than anyone else, and it was my fault.
"Let's change the subject."
"I'm tired."
"You're tired?" I asked. She looked tired. "Do you want me to take you home?" She shook her head. She was tired. I could see it. She was probably so bored that she was ready to fall asleep. I couldn't blame her; she wasn't the kind of person to sit and talk. "I'm taking you home." I stood up.
"All right," she said and stood up.
"You're so subtle, Lauryn."
"I know." She smiled. We left the abandoned warehouse and I drove her home. "So you're going to call me, right? Maybe we can go on a date without yelling at each other."
"We didn't yell, we stereotyped."
"Whatever."
"Yeah, I'll call you later." She got out of the car. I waited until she was outside before leaving. Now what was I doing? I was letting someone I could barely stand have an insight on my life. I did want to get to know her, but I discovered today that there wasn't much more to know about her. I didn't want her to know me, but she seemed halfway there already.
As I drove home, I thought about what I was doing. What was I doing? That seemed to be a question that often ran through my mind. I wanted to know, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue this. I wanted to see her again, but I was afraid of a relationship.
I'm just a walking contraction, aren't I? I don't know anything. I don't know what I want to do with myself in any situation anymore.
I got home unsatisfied with myself. I walked in the house and the phone rang. I really didn't feel like picking it up, so I waited for someone else to. I went into the kitchen. Mom was in there; she had picked up the phone.
"Nic! Hello! How are you?" I spun around and headed out of the kitchen. I wanted to know why she was calling, so I hung around to hear what Mom said. "Your book? Well I'll have to check." I dashed up the stairs and into my room. Mom went up the stairs and into the spare guest room where Nic had been staying. "Oh, honey, I don't see it. I'll keep looking, though. If I find it, I'll call you. Bye, now."
I walked out in the hall as Mom was leaving Nic's room. "Oh, Zac, I didn't you came in. Did you want to speak to Nic?" The mere thought of it nearly made me lose my breath.
"No, not really," I said, taking in a deep breath. How convincing am I? And I thought Mom knew about me and Nic not speaking. "What was that about?"
"Nic lost her journal and she's very upset. She thinks she left it here. You're good at finding things, why don't you do it while I put Zo� to bed?"
"Um, okay."
"Unless you have something you need to do." I shook my head. "Okay. Try not to go to bed too late, sweetie." She smiled and walked away. She's been real nice lately. I wondered about it. Was there something she wasn't telling me?
I went into the spare bedroom and turned on the light. Where was I going to start? I checked under the bed and in the drawers and found it easily in the space between the bed and the wall. Did Mom even check the room?
That's when it dawned on me. I have Nic's journal in my hands. Her life, everything she feels and thinks is probably written down in this very book. Should I read it? No...I couldn't do that to her. Maybe I should just see how far back it goes.
I opened it and looked at the first date. July 18, last year. I quickly shut it before I was tempted to read anything. Why did that date sound so familiar? We were on tour, actually, we were in Florida...that's the first day she came on the tour! As I look back now, I remember her writing in it every day, and she never let me see it. That's how I knew it was her journal right away when I saw it in between the bed and the wall.
I went back into my room and sat at my desk. I had some lyrics in my heard earlier. I threw the journal on my desk and grabbed my notebook. I sprawled out a line, but even as I wrote it my eyes kept drifting towards that journal of hers. That was her right in front of me. It was Nic, what can she hide from me? Maybe I could read just a little, just if she still thinks about me. I just need to know if she still liked me. I'll skip everything else, if it doesn't have my name I won't look at it. Just one passage...
I opened the journal and turned to a recent page.
He's right next door and I can't talk to him. What the fuck is his problem? He won't say hi or even look at me! That man I so confusing! Well at least she thinks I'm a man. God, I just want to go back to the way things used to be before. I want him back again� Yes! She still likes me! But now that I know, what am I supposed to do about it?