Jetta gets home and goes over to the Way's early.
Talking with Gerard had made me feel guilty, but I felt justified in not telling him the truth. He really didn't need to worry about me, and having him know would've just make things go downhill. I got home and walked through the door to find my mother sitting in an armchair in the sitting room. I should've known she'd be home by 3 o'clock. She was watching something on the TV and looked over to me. I saw her mouth drop open and her eyes widen.
"Jetta?" She stood up slowly and walked over to me, looking me up and down, "What happened to your hair? Along with the rest of you?" She hadn't seen me for the past few days, so of course my make-over would have surprised her. I was already in a bad mood, and dealing with her was just going to make it worse, so I decided to get it over with as fast as possible. Just like ripping off a band-aid.
"I quit the squad.", I mumbled. "And I started wearing clothes that I like.", I added, just adding the the tension in the room. My mother looked at me to see if I was actually telling the truth. She saw that I was and shook her head, crossing her arms.
"This won't do, you're not giving up on our goal now, and I'll do what I have to do to get you back on that squad." She pulled out her cell-phone. "I'll just call a few people that I know, they'll bend to my request." I suddenly reached out and closed her phone, not rudely, but just trying to get a point across.
"No mom, I quit because I wanted to change my life.", I said, standing there strongly, waiting for her to say something. My mother wasn't drunk, I looked over to the table to see a unopened beer can, but she was going to begin just as I had walked in. She gaped at me, almost like she hadn't expected me to object to having her 'fix' things. She swallowed and nodded her head.
"Alright, I can see that you're being serious about this, but Jetta-", she cut off, desperate to find a way to say something. "What about our plans about you getting into college and following in my footsteps, taking over the company after I retire?" I shook my head.
"That was your plan mom, I want to work on my art skills, maybe even go to an art college for it, my teacher even suggested that I think about going into art profession." I smiled a little. Mr. Tatts had given me some brochures at the start of the school, which I'd thrown away, but how hard could it be to get some more. I saw a couple doors opening up to me as I continued talking to my mom.
But my mom had other plans, she began turning red. I'd only seen her do this when she was under the influence, but the she got right in my face. Her auburn hair was in a bun that was coming undone, and her green eyes, much like mine, were wide and angry.
"You think that after all the plans I set up for you, you're just gonna throw them away like trash?", she shrieked. I stood there, no emotion on my face, and not cowering. She couldn't control what I was doing, I'd done things her way and they'd ended miserably. At least now I was happy making my own choices.
I took a deep breath before answering, "Yes mom, I'm doing things my way now.", I said softly, yet still giving my mother a new blow. She stared at me, anger still evident on her face. Then she marched right up and her hand made a imprint across my face, and then she stormed out of the room. I saw the action as childish, despite the sting on my face.
Now I saw why my dad really left, my mother was just like a child, a overgrown bully. I felt a grin spread across my face as I went upstairs. I couldn't stay here, not while my mom was having a hissy fit. I wasn't afraid of her, but I didn't want to have another encounter with her until she'd calmed down. I suppose I could be a little early at Gerard's. I looked to the clock in my room. 4:15.
I was going to be really early actually if I left now, but it was a problem that couldn't be solved. I took a spare set of clothes, along with pajamas, and stuffed them into my back-pack.
Looking into the mirror on my dresser, I saw a hand print on my cheek. I poked it gently and my finger made the mark turn white. It wasn't going to be there that long so I left it as it was. I redid my bandages, took the wine bottle from last night downstairs, and took off my shirt. I changed into a purple T-shirt, with the same black zipper-up from Saturday, and pulled on my jacket from the same night. Ready to go, I grabbed the bag and walked out of my room.
I grabbed my tooth-brush as I went past the bathroom. My mother must have gone into her room, her TV was on loudly, and I heard her shrieks being made into a pillow. A calming method that she thought actually worked. I shook my head disappointedly and kept on going.
As I drove to the Way house, I thought about Gerard seeing my bandaged wrist. It was easy to see what he thought I'd done and he was right. It was just the fact that now he would be worried about me. Though there wasn't a need to.
It was a spur of the moment thing, it wasn't like I was addicted to cutting, I'd only done it once, but that's not what he'd think. I guess I'd just have to set him right, that is if he spoke of it. There was a slight chance that he'd just let it go. A very small chance.
I pulled into the driveway, next to the silver car and a blue Chrysler. I got out, walked up to the door with my bag, and knocked. Donna came to answer the door and smiled at the sight of me.
"Well don't you look better?" She looked at me, and let me in. Mr. Way, or Donald I corrected myself, was sitting in the armchair of the living room, and I had no clue where Gerard could be.
"The boys just left their grandmothers, and are gonna get pizza for their movie sleep-over thing.", Donna informed me as I sat down on the couch, "I don't know what you want to do until then. . ." She looked to me for a reply. I had no clue what to do either so I shrugged.
That's when Donna's face lite up.
"I see that you've got a new hair cut.", she pointed out. I nodded. "And no offense, but from the look of it, you did it yourself?", she asked. I nodded again, this time sheepishly. Donna's grin just grew.
"Then could I interest you in a trimming? I work as a hair-dresser, and I have the tools with me if you want to?", she offered. I smiled widely and accepted the offer. I had did my best to make it look good, but it would be a relief to get a professional to have it done.
"Perfect, the boys won't be back for a little while, which leaves me with time to work with ya.", she ushered me into the kitchen and pulled a chair into the middle of the room, making me sit in it.
"Not exactly a hair salon, but it'll work." She went and got her things. She bustled back in, holding a huge black bag, and a mysterious box of something.
"Now, could ya take off that jacket of yours, I don't want to get it covered in hair.", she pointed out, as she started pulling out a pair of scissors and a comb. I froze in terror as I realized what would happen if I took it off, she'd see my bandages. I gulped.
"U-um, Donna remember when I came over Friday night and I was having problems with my personal life?", I asked hesitantly, she turned around with a eyebrow raised.
"Yes.", she replied slowly, standing up straight with a hand on her hip.
I swallowed loudly. "Well I have another thing going on, and I prefer if you didn't mention it to anyone. . .", I said, waiting for her response. She stared at me for a little while before holding up a hand in defeat.
"Fine, I won't tell anyone, but ya should really think about going to someone for help dear.", she said with a caring smile. I smiled and took off my jacket as she pulled out a cover that they would use at a salon. She pulled it over me and was silent at the sight of the bandages, though I could tell she was worried.
She went through the hair-cut silently, concentrating as she worked with the scissors. Finally she pulled out a mirror and showed me my reflection. Now, with all the hair aligned and neat, along with a little hair gel in it, I looked like a pixie. I smiled at the sight and started thanking her profusely before she went and got the unknown box. She turned it around so I could read it and I saw the words 'RED HAIR DYE', the picture on the front was a punk girl with vibrant red streaks in her hair.
"You're going to give me red highlights?", I asked dumbfounded. I liked the idea, but wasn't it a bit extreme. She smiled at me widely and shook the box, trying to give it some appeal. I shrugged and opened my arms wide.
"Let me have it.", I challenged her and she laughed.
"You'll look great with it sweetie, just trust me." She opened the box and started mixing the various liquids in it.
Approximately 20 minutes later after we washed my hair out in the tub upstairs, Don had given us a wide-eyed look at me with tin-foil in my hair, and now I had red streaks going through my short dark brown hair. Just in time for Gerard and Mikey to come through the door with Frankie on Mikey's back. Gerard was carrying a box of pizza and a bag. I peered around the corner at them. Donna was putting her things away, and I wanted my appearence to be a surprise.
"Seriously dude, get off me, you weigh like a hundred pounds.", Mikey whined as Frank tightened his hold on him.
"Never!", he cried out, "Go forth my steed." He pointed to the living room and Mikey snorted, throwing Frankie off him and onto the couch.
"I refuse to be anyone's steed.", Mikey stated, sitting on the wiggling Frank, who groaned under the weight. Gerard meanwhile had come into the living room after putting the grocery bag and pizza somewhere, and sat down next to the pair nonchalantly. That's when I took my chance at appearing. I went running into the room and jumped on Mikey and Frankie both, Gerard staring at me as I pinned them both down.
"Ha! And Jetta wins the WWE Smackdown!", I belted out like an announcer as the two men under me started pushing me off. I fell of them and onto the hardwood floor laughing.
"Damn it Jetta, I think I broke a rib.", Frankie moaned sitting up next to Mikey who was rubbing his head and readjusting his glasses.
"Ten points for entry though.", Mikey muttered as he finally looked at me. Frankie and Gerard were still staring at me, mostly at my hair.
"GNARLY", Frankie let out, holding his hand for a high-five, which I gave with a laugh, picking myself off the floor. I was feeling hyper, not girly hyper, but like I wanted to do something crazy. Don just gave us a look and walked out of the room and into the kitchen, muttering something about having too many energetic kids.
"What made you go with red though?", Mikey spoke up, grinning at me. I shrugged and pointed to the kitchen.
"Ask your mom, she just brought out her supplies and worked her magic." Both Gerard and Mikey face-palmed themselves.
"Of course it was Ma, she's the only one crazy enough to think of a hair-do like that. Although it's awesome.", Gerard grinned at me, making me hope that he'd just forget about things for tonight. That's when I took into note that only three guys were here out of the six I had been told about.
"Where's Ray, Bob and Matt?", I asked, taking a seat down next to Mikey, meanwhile Frank scrambled into the unoccupied armchair.
"They'll be here around six, I'm surprised you were here so early.", Gerard muttered, picking up the remote and flicking through the channels. I got up, walked over, and took my bag off the ground.
"Can I go and put my stuff in a bedroom or something.", I asked at the boys, who were preoccupied with what looked-like a Star Trek marathon that was on. Gerard looked up and nodded.
"Just set it next to the couch downstairs, me, you, Ray, Bob, and Matt are going to be down there, meanwhile these two nut-heads." He pointed at Frankie and Mikey. "Are bunking in Mikey's room, that okay with you?" I nodded and went down the hallway to the door that lead to Gerard's basement room. I walked down the steps and into the familiar cold room.
I walked over to the other side of the place and turned on the light. Nothing had changed from two nights ago. Of course, I hadn't expected it to, maybe it was just that I had changed so much that I took the room with a new sight. I put my bag down next to Gerard's couch and prepared to leave when I spotted a piece of paper on the desk that captured my attention.
It was a poem or maybe a song, though I hadn't heard that Gerard was musical. I probably shouldn't have invaded his privacy, but I read it anyway:
We could be perfect one last night
[/And die like star-crossed lovers when we fight
[/And we can settle this affair
[/If you would shed your yellow take my hand
[/And then we'll solve the mystery of laceration gravity
[/This riddle of revenge, please understand, it has to be this way
[/Stand up fucking tall, don't let them see your back
[/Take my fucking hand and never be afraid again
[/We've only got one chance to put this at an end
[/And cross the patron saints of switchblade fights
[/You said, "We're not celebraties
[/We strike and fade, they die by threes"
[/I'll make you understand
[/And you can trade me for an apparition
[/Stand up fucking tall, don't let them see your back
[/Take my fucking hand
[/"Never trust", you said
[/Who put the words in your head?
[/Oh how wrong were we to think
[/that immortality meant never dying
[/Take my fucking hand
[/Take my fucking
[/Stand up fucking tall, never let them see your back
[/Take my fucking hand and never be afraid again!
The words left shivers down my skin. He must have been when he wrote this, it made me wonder what had caused him to write such things. It was furious, yet it sounded desperate to get an idea into someone's head. I placed it back down and went upstairs. They were all in the same places, watching Star Trek. I sat down in my seat and looked over at Gerard, wondering if he could tell if I was shaken up. He glanced at me and my eyes sprung to the screen. That's when the doorbell rang.