An hour passed, and I was growing frustrated with the piece I was working on. I knew how the song went; I'd been listening to it over and over for days, and yet I was still hitting the wrong notes. I was a pretty fair pianist- all the time I spent in the music room at lunch had paid off well. Usually, I was good at playing by ear. But this song was a bit difficult. I threw my hands up and pulled out my ear buds. I shut off my iPod and pushed the piano bench underneath the piano, just in time to hear Grandma Rain to call me into the kitchen. Apparently, our guests were here. I walked cautiously into the kitchen, tense until the smell of fresh-baked cookies calmed me. There at the kitchen table was an older woman, who I presumed was Donna, and a younger man with bleached-blonde hair and dark eyebrows, set above deep, expressive hazel colored eyes.

"Josie, this is Donna Way and her son, Gerard."

"Hi." I said quietly.

"Hello, there, Josie. Your Grandma has told me so much about you." she said warmly. "I heard you on the piano- you play beautifully."

"Thank you, Mrs. Way."

"Oh, call me Donna. Mrs. sounds too old." She looked at Grandma and they laughed a bit.

"Okay...Donna." It felt weird calling Mrs. Way 'Donna.' I would continue to think of her as Mrs. Way in my head.

"I agree. You play the piano well." Gerard piped up.

"Thank you Mr.-" Gerard raised an eyebrow. "Gerard, I mean." I finished lamely.

What was up with all these people insisting I call them by their first name when they were clearly older than I am? As if we'll all be great friends.

Gerard took a cookie and bit into it, a crumb sticking to the side of his mouth.
"Lorraine, these are awesome!" he said.

My grandma chuckled and brushed the crumb from Gerard's mouth. "I'm not sure if 'awesome' is the word, young man. But I do my best!"

"Aw, Grandma Rain, you know they're awesome. How many times have I said that exact same thing?" I couldn't help but agree with him.

After sitting around the table drinking coffee and gorging ourselves on cookies, Grandma Rain and Donna shooed us away so they could catch up.

Gerard followed me into the living room, and I flopped down onto the couch in front of the TV. His attempts to make conversation were failing as I flipped channels. Finally, I stopped on FUSE. Nothing good was on, so I switched it off and turned to Gerard.

"So, what do you do for a living?" I asked. “Grandma mentioned you were famous?”
"Um, I sing a little in a band."

"That's cool. What kind of music do you sing?"

"Officially, our genre according to iTunes is Alternative...although lately, some people are calling us 'emo.'" He sneered at the name, as if it were his worst enemy.

"I hate being called emo. Kids at school call me emo all the time."
"What? You're not emo."

"I know that. They don't," I snorted. "They wouldn’t know Emo if it slapped them in the vagina.”

We both laughed at my expression, then he was back to asking questions.

"So you have a lot of friends?" he asked.
"Nah, I don't need friends."

He obviously disagreed but said nothing about it. Instead, he said "What do you do during lunch?"

"I play piano in the music room. The teacher doesn't mind."

"That's good. I love music. What's your favorite band?"

“I like too many bands to just have one favorite. I like the Misfits. And Queen. I love Queen."

"Hey, I like Misfits too! Favorite's probably Iron Maiden though." he smiled.

"Yeah...not a real big Maiden fan, but they trump out this Fall Out Boy foolishness."

Again, we laughed, and it was my turn to ask questions. "So what's your band's name?"

"We’re called My Chemical Romance."

"Huh. That's a cool name. Did you think of it?"

"No. My brother Mikey did."

"Mikey, that’s short for Michael, right?"

Gerard nodded and said, “Yeah.”

"So who else is in the band?"

"Frank, Ray and Bob. Frank and Ray are from here in Jersey. Bob is from Chicago."
"Cool. I'd-"

"Gerard, it's time to go!" Donna called, interrupting my sentence.

"Aw, mom!" he whined, somewhat resembling a toddler.

"Are you whining?" she chuckled.

"Yeah, but I'm having a nice time with my new friend Josie!"

That statement, if I'd heard correctly, contained the word friend.

"We'll come back tomorrow, I promise. Lorraine and I are going to do some baking. She’s going to show me her secret ingredient for those chocolate chip cookies you love so much."

"Yessss!" he cheered, then stood and made eye contact with me. "Josie, I'll see you tomorrow." He gave me a wink, and with that he followed Donna out.

Notes

And so it begins...