XII. GOUCH
An abrupt knock on the car window startled Charlie and LaRissa. The pizza had arrived. The reporter and the rock star gobbled their greasy dinner as Estrella continued his life story.
My dreams ate at me. I tried to tell Mom about it, but she claimed the dreams were a result of puberty. And my true confidant, Gail, was gone. The questions raced through my mind. Was my guitar my destiny? Was I really going to die young? How young? Was any of it real?
“Was it?”
Charlie nodded ever so slightly, wiping a grease smudge from the edge of his mouth.
And then, on my fifteenth birthday, Mom gave me my present – freedom.
Mom had completely renovated my actual bedroom. She framed a bunch of great posters for me – Pink Floyd, Nirvana, Metallica. She painted my room a unique aqua color.
