Bette Porter

“Tina?” I ask in disbelief. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Her voice is trembling. “Okay, just laugh. Tell everyone. Go ahead, have fun.”

I get off my bike and walk towards her. I kneel in front of her. “Why would I laugh at you?”

I inhale her scent and I feel butterflies in my stomach. I want to kiss her so bad. No can do, Porter.

“Well, I do look ridicolous. Oh, and tell the guys I won’t make it tonight.”

“What? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! What is this?” I ask, stroking the print of the hand. She winces.

“My mom.”

“Dear God, what happened?”

“Seth sent me a message this morning, at 6 am and -”

“And you couldn’t sleep anymore,” I finish her sentence.

“How do you know?” She asks, frowning her eyebrows.

“I just… know.” I feel how I’m blushing. Great, well done. Just let her speak!

“So, anyway. I decided to do a bit of editing, it had been a while. My mom comes in and tells me I’m a freak and a nerd and all that again, and I give her some answers cause I’m sick of her. So she slapped me, and I have to sit here like this for everyone to see until I can get back in. She’s also grounded me for tonight.”

“What? She can’t do that! She can’t slap you and she can’t… I mean, you’re the singer!”

“That’s what I told her. She said she heard you have a good voice too.”

“Fuck, Tee… is there anything I can do to get you out of here?”

She shakes her head. “No. It’d only make things worse. This is so humiliating.”

“Then there’s only one thing left to do.” I just took a decision. As much as I hate what she’s done to me, I have to support her. So I roll up the pipes of my pants and sit down on my knees next to her, hands crossed on my head. She looks at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am. For her. STOP.

“Slap me,” I tell her.

“No, I’m not gonna do that. What are you doing?”

“At least you’re not alone now.”