Unsweet Sixteen

Unsweet Sixteen

By Andiee Lomlay

Published by Andiee Lomlay and Read It, Love It at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Andiee Lomlay

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Stock photo for cover image provided by morgeFile.

Acknowledgements

Thank You: I want to thank J.K. Rowling, Pete Wentz, and John Hughes. You’re my Big Three of writing, and you’ve inspired me in more ways than you’ll ever know.

Dedication: Though I may have used different pennames over the years, for those of you who were with me at FanFiction, for those of you who were with me at FictionPress, for those of you who were with me at Quizilla, and for those of you who were with me at Tumblr, this is for you. I’ve grown up a bit over the years, and I’m so happy you’ve made this journey with me.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Prologue

He felt the lights before he saw them. They were hot and bright, and he had to blink several times just to adjust to the flashing bulbs. It was only when he sat down that he noticed just how many of them there were.

The reporters were about fifty in total, and some of them were already firing off questions. Press releases didn’t faze him in the least—in the five years he’d fronted The Liac Band, he’d done hundreds of them. Most of them were about the music—tours, videos, upcoming releases—but some journalists liked to talk about personal things: drugs, sex, how he spent his money. Along with the rest of the band, he’d shrugged it off or met the question with a slur of curse words. Or, he’d just tell them that he was actually a bit tipsy. He was usually alright with interviews.

But not this one.

This one was different.

In the time that the members of The Liac Band had been together, not once had they had to make a press release like this. They’d known one like it would come at some point, just not so soon. Maybe when they were in their thirties, but not when they were twenty-five and twenty-six. And, because of this, for the first time ever, Kirk Liac was absolutely terrified.

He tapped the mike in front of him. The sound of his finger reverberated, and the reporters fell silent. He glanced at his band mates, his best friends. They were staring at him blankly, not one of them giving an encouraging nod. Knowing that he had to start, he took a deep breath and began:

Hi everyone. We know why you’re here, so let’s get to it. Recently, there’s been some speculation in the press about me possibly having a daughter and a wife. He paused. He’d been thinking about the best way to phrase it, but right now, all that he’d practiced was scrambling up in his mind. Some people have wondered how this affects the band, why I haven’t claimed responsibly for the baby I’ve been photographed with, so forth and so on. I’m here to tell you today that the little girl you’ve seen me with is my daughter.

Verbally, the reporters were quiet. All that could be heard was the scratching of pens, the rustling of paper, and the clicking of cameras.

The reason that I haven’t said anything before now is that I didn’t want her bothered. I didn’t want her mother bothered. I figured the best way to do that was to leave it alone; not mention it. Clearly, it hasn’t worked, so I’m telling you now: yes I do have a daughter, but no, I am not married to her mother. He added, Not yet.

What came next pained him to say, but he knew it had to be done:

With this baby in my life, I want to do things right. I don’t want to be touring when she’s growing up. I don’t want her in and out of recording studios for her birthday. I just want her to have a normal life, as far away from rock n’ roll as possible. With that in mind, I’ve talked it over with the rest of the band, and, as of today, The Liac Band is going on an indefinite hiatus. Thank you.

He didn’t even wait for their responses. He knew they were asking questions and making comments, but the words didn’t register. He just wanted to get out of there and be with Janie. She was probably crying or hungry or both, and he didn’t want to leave her with her mother alone too long. He we wanted to be there for everything. He didn’t want to miss anything.

So, pushing the mike away from his face, he turned from everyone and walked away from The Liac Band forever.

Chapter One

16 Years Later

I leaped up the moment I heard my alarm go off. Usually, I turned it off, rolled over, and slept for a few more minutes. Not today.

Because, as Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen swam through my ears, I squealed. Sixteen! I’d been on this planet sixteen years, and I was ready to be spoiled for this fact alone. Today was my birthday, and I was planning on making the most of it.

I pushed the covers to the end of my bed. I grabbed my robe, tossing it over my body. I kissed my stuffed animal—a brown and black raccoon—before turning to the door. Leaving my room, I went and searched for my parents.

I lived in a mansion in a gated, upscale community called Vimontier. I didn’t use the term mansion lightly; when I was younger, I would get lost. My room had always been close to my parents’ room, but when you’re five, you don’t always realize that. All you know is that you want your parents and you’re not sure where they’re at.

Like now.

Usually, when I was getting ready for school, Mom and Dad were in the kitchen. Mom always had breakfast ready. However, when I skidded into the kitchen today, they were nowhere to be found. I frowned. Breakfast wasn’t out either, which made me a little sad. Surely, today of all days they weren’t still in bed. Not today. I mean, Dad lived for birthdays. Usually, he was more excited about my birthday than I was. The only reason I was so stoked this year was because I was sixteen, and everyone knows that turning sixteen is a rite of passage.

A rite of passage that involves a car.

I went over to the table, and found a note. I lifted the paper and read. It was from Mom.

Janie—First off, happy birthday honey! I know you’re looking for us (Dad wanted us to hid and have you come searching), so I decided I’d leave this hint when he wasn’t looking. We’re down in the studio. Come down when you’re fully awake. –Mom

It made me smile. Turning, I raced out of the kitchen.

Our house had a recording studio. Back in his day, Dad used to be some hotshot rock star in a 80s hair metal band. They broke up right after I was born so I never got to experience it, but I guess they were pretty good. Good enough for Dad to still be making money off their music. Long story short, he produced music now, hence the need for a recording studio.

I flew into the studio.

Ah, there she is! I heard Dad say from the other side of the glass. He stood from his seat behind the soundboard and came out of the room. My dad was pretty awesome. He had that look that most aging rockers had, but he made it look cool. His arms were covered in tattoos, which always resulted in my wanting one or two, but I wasn’t allowed. I’d also read in magazines that he had a lot more, but I didn’t want to ask about those. I didn’t want to see them because of their location.

Mom followed him out. In my opinion, I looked more like Mom than Dad. We both had straight, dark brown hair, eyes that could never decide if they were green or blue, and we were tall. Not tall enough to be runway models, but I had a few inches on the majority of my classmates. The only reason I looked different was that I had these bangs that skimmed my eyes, and she didn’t. Like Dad, Mom had aged well, and when I’m her age, I hope those genes are passed onto me.

We expected you ten minutes ago, peanut, said Dad, hugging me.

Yeah, good thing Mom told me where you were.

Janis! He looked at Mom and we both giggled.

It could have taken he half the day to find us, and she has school today. You’d get restless and want to move into another room. She leaned in to hug me. Happy birthday, dear.

Thanks. I looked around. So where is everything? I sounded like a spoiled brat, but I didn’t care. Everyone was entitled to sound that way on their birthday.

Where’s what? asked Dad, a confused look on his face. I pouted. What, did I miss something? Is something going on? Is it—Oh, I got it! You turn sixteen today, don’t you?

Stop being mean, I whined.

Oh, I’m being mean, am I? I nodded. Guess that means I should probably take back what’s setting in there. He nodded to the room they’d just been in. Immediately, my eyes got wide as I tried to peer inside. Mean people don’t buy gifts for their growing daughters, so I should return it to the store.

No, you’re not mean! Gimme, gimme! Without waiting for them, I went into the room. The moment I saw it, I nearly fainted.

Sitting before me, cradled in its stand, was the ultimate gift: an all-white, Gibson Custom Les Paul. I’d never been big on music—I preferred movies—but guitars always held a special place in my heart. I used to toy around with Dad’s, but he was a Fender person. I’d been asking for this guitar for a while now, but he’d always joked, Not in my house. Anything labeled Gibson was forbidden.

Glad to see I’d changed his mind.

I squealed loudly. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Ah, ears, said Mom as they joined me.

Well kid, what do you think?

I think he’s gorgeous, I said in awe, reaching to gently pick it up.

Great. But guitars are women.

Not this one. You’re a guy; your guitars are women. I’m a girl; mine’s a man.

Ah, well with that logic…

Duh. I picked it up. It was heavier than I thought it would be, but all I wanted to do was sit here and hug it. Maybe if I begged, they’d let me stay home and not make me move from this position.

You know what this means, don’t you?

Huh? I snapped out of it, looking up from the love of my life. What did you say?

Dad chuckled. This means I’ll have to give you lessons.

Oh yeah.

I didn’t know how to play guitar.

I mean, I knew how to strum and I could stumble my fingers through chords, but sit down and play an actual song? Not really. The musical gene had clearly skipped me.

Oh, sure. Just… not… now. I cuddled with my guitar and closed my eyes, wondering what I should name him. Serious guitarists always named their guitars. Dad’s were named Betty, Jane, and Veronica. I wasn’t planning on being a serious guitarists, but he still deserved a name. I’ll learn later.

Because you’re busy right now. I nodded at Mom. She understood. I meant you need to get ready for school.

My eyes snapped open. Aw, crap. Why did my birthday have to fall on a school day? Uh, about that. I was thinking I should just stay home. I used the one thing I figured they’d buy. Since it’s my birthday, I know there’s going to be cameras. The press is going to want to know every little detail: what you guys got me, what we’re doing to celebrate—

Nice try, Mom interrupted. School.

I frowned at her. I’d never done anything to get publicity, except, well, being Kirk Liac’s daughter. The paparazzi, they followed me around every now and then. Whenever it happened, Dad always threw a fit. Guess Mom thought I could handle it today.

Can Macintosh go?

I take it that’s his name? I nodded. No. He’ll be fine.

Dad will mess with him.

I have Betty and your mother to keep me company.

Leaning towards Mom, I whispered, I don’t trust him.

She laughed. I’ll get a security guard, then. C’mon. Nik said he was going to be early today, remember?

Nik! Why was I being so absentminded this morning? Sorry Macintosh. With the utmost care, I put my guitar back in his stand then popped up. Nik Morrison was my boyfriend, my very cute boyfriend. He was in a band, which automatically meant my dad liked him; he was easy on the eyes, so Mom didn’t mind him. I assumed they both knew what he’d gotten me—I swear, sometimes he called them more than he called me—but they weren’t telling.

I’m running late.

Yes you are, so get going.

I thanked them once again before giving them big hugs and going upstairs.

I took a quick shower, deciding to spend more time on my appearance. I’d picked out what I wanted to wear the night before, but that didn’t stop me from spending twenty minutes in front of the mirror.

I was wearing a dress. While the rest of the world was still in winter, California was nice and sunny, so I didn’t have to worry about a heavy coat or a scarf or the sort. I’d always been thankful for that. I didn’t think I’d look all that cute in winter clothing, to be honest. I could never be a snow bunny. So, even though it was February, I was wearing a dress. I was also in my pair of black combat boots. Over my eyes I wore my wayfarer sunglasses, and my arms were adorned with bangles. I stared at myself then shrugged.

It would do.

Just as I turned away from the mirror, my phone went off, signaling that Nik was outside waiting. I took one final glance at myself then grabbed my bag and hurried off.

Nik was parked in the driveway. The moment I got into his Mazda, he screamed, Happy birthday!

I