Three young women have one thing in common: Music. They have their own issues such as suicide, alcoholism, weight gain and depression to deal with, besides their husbands rather fragile egos. These young women are going places, on their own terms and must overcome lifes’ obstacles. Do you think suicide, weight gain and fear will hold these woman down? No way. Beth must deal with her own inner demons and overprotective mother. She is in love with Jon, her guitar playing boyfriend. She is his muse, his inspiration for his music. He loves her except when she screws up. Stephanie has to learn to let go and shake off her abusive past, destructive parents and be free to love Ian, her bass playing husband. Heather is stuck in a humdrum relationship with Phil the pessimistic drummer and learns that breaking away sometimes is the payoff to success in the world. Catch up on all the hilarius girl talk in High.


3. High

Chapter 3



Beth was checking out of the hospital. Her mom was there, waiting for her. They walked down the long, white, thickly carpeted corridor together.


“Got all your stuff?” she said nervously, toying with her cell phone.


“Yes Mom.” she sighed.


They walked to the parking lot. Beth clutched her overnight bag, which was full of her stuff she needed for her stay. Shampoo hairbrush, underwear and a signed CD of Jon’s. They were “her” songs. She knew he had written them for her. She was his inspiration, his muse.


Beth would call him as soon as she was out of her mother’s earshot. Her mother had it out for Jon, she feared for his safety around her mother. She could be vicious. They drove in silence for a while, past the pain clinics and parking lots and strip malls. Finally her mother spoke. Here it comes, she thought.


“I hope this was the last time.” She said sternly and quietly.


“Yes Mom.” she rolled her eyes.


“Why do you behave this way?” she persisted.


“Oh God Mom, don’t start on me now….”


“I just want the best for you. Can’t you see that?” her tone was moving into a high nasal pitch.


“I know…. It’ll be all right. I swear. It’s just me….It’s just me…”


“Ok, please leave Jon alone. I don’t want you seeing that boy.” Her fingers fumbled with her cigarette.


“He’s not a boy Mom, he’s a man and I am not a girl anymore. I am a woman.” she said defiantly.


“He’s bad for you honey, he upsets you….Look at what has happened to you.”


“No Mom… He doesn’t…. It’s not his fault that I freaked out. It’s my fault, all my fault. Why can’t you understand it had nothing to do with him? It’s me! It’s just me…..”


“Heed my warning child.”




“Let him come to you.” She exhaled.



Beth sulked back in her seat. Here was her wonderful mother controlling her life again. Why didn’t she just leave them alone? Beth made up her mind. She would run away with Jon, far, far away and they would start their life together somewhere new. They would live on an island surrounded by coconut trees and eat pineapples and live in a grass hut. He would catch fish and she would cook over a fire.


Her mother clung to her because Dad had left them five years ago. Her mother was overprotective, demanding, controlling and impossible. Most of her friend’s mothers were really cool, but hers wasn’t. She was a control freak.


Stephanie turned on the Zumba video. The music started to play and a Barbie doll instructor gave orders. Step 1, step 2, back, back, step to the side…. She played the tape for forty-five minutes and then collapsed on the sofa in a heap of sweat.


Stephanie was determined to be skinny. If this was what Ian wanted then this was what he was going to get. She was willing it to happen. She wanted the pounds of fat to melt off her body until you could see bones, ribs and muscle. She was very muscular from years of running. Somewhere under this body was her dream body and she would get to it.


Stephanie knew why she was eating. It had to do with her past. Her parents had been very abusive to her growing up. She didn’t trust people anymore. She only trusted Ian. He would never hurt her. And she trusted food. Food provided the comfort she carved, the acceptance…Food didn’t betray you and connive behind your back or humiliate you or call you stupid. Food was nice. It was safe. She thought back to all the horrendous things her mother had done to her. And her father too. Her mother was an actress and her father was just a bum. An alcoholic and a drug addict. She didn’t even know if her father was alive or dead. He might be dead on the street somewhere. Her dear father had left her for two weeks on the sofa with a hundred and five degree temperature and her mother had just allowed it. She hated them, she was glad she was away from them all now. Now her challenge was to be thin and show them all she could be a winner. She had to win. She had to…She would.

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