“Hey, stranger,” she said to me. “Sorry it took me so long to call you back since video brunch. Things have been kind of crazy.”
“Is everything okay?”
Caroline nodded. “Yeah, it’s great. Just busy. Christopher is setting up some new programs, so we were out in the middle of nowhere for a couple of weeks. I’ve never been without WiFi for so long. It was incredible, once I got over the shock.”
It sounded awful. “I’m glad you had fun.”
Caroline was living her dream, but it definitely wasn’t my dream. Maybe if I had a dreamy guy to follow like she did, and when you’re mega-rich, it’s probably hard to be too miserable. But two weeks of no WiFi? I imagined that would be a deal breaker no matter how hot the guy was.
“What have you been up to?” Caroline asked.
Where to start? I just sort of blurted it all out at once. It took a few minutes for Caroline to get clear on the details. I’d never been a great storyteller unless I could use my camera.
“Well I think it’s clear that you have to go,” Caroline told me when I’d finally finished.
“I knew you’d say that.”
“Because Faith did?”
“Because I basically put you on that plane to Africa and turnabout is fair play.”
Caroline laughed. God, I missed her.
“You didn’t put me on the plane. I put myself on the plane, but I take your point. Still, you have to know this is too good to pass up.”
“I like Ian,” I admitted. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I like him.”
Caroline grinned. “Then go. Take a chance. If you really hate it, come home. But you’ll regret it if you let this pass you by. Ian’s a good guy. He might have his issues, but I think you should go and give this all a try.” In the midst of thinking about myself, I’d almost forgotten that Caroline and Ian were friends, and had been for almost as long as I’d known her.
I nodded. I respected Caroline. I knew she wanted what was best for me. Her faith in me and in Ian made me feel better.
My confidence lasted right up until we hung up. Then all the indecision came flooding back.
19
Ian
“She’s coming on tour,” I told Ryan the next time I saw him. It was a few days later and we were meeting at a vegan restaurant that I’d finally talked him into trying. I bit into my veggie burger, feeling like the universe was finally on my side. “She signed the contract.”
Ryan poked at his quinoa bowl. “I hate this Ian, why have you brought me here?”
What a whiner.
“Come on. You can’t say that. You haven’t even taken a bite yet,” I told him.
“It looks gross.”
“Don’t be a baby.”
Ryan took a bite and made a face that indicated his surprise.
“It’s good, huh?”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s tolerable.”
He liked it. I could tell. Ryan was a terrible lair. You’d think he’d be a good one considering his profession, but he wasn’t. The man was transparent.
“See, the vegan lifestyle isn’t that bad, is it?” I asked him.
He made a noncommittal grunt. “So, your new redhead is coming on tour, huh?”
My new redhead? It took me a minute to realize that he was referring to Victoria, aka my ‘old redhead.’ I grimaced. Victoria was the gal I’d had a friends-with-benefits situation a year and a half ago. She also had red hair. It was black now though or, at least, it had been when I’d last seen her, which was probably eight months ago. The point was that Vanessa was not comparable.
“Don’t call Vanessa my ‘new redhead’,” I told my brother. “It’s not fair to her.” My voice was sharper than I intended. “She’s nothing like Victoria.”
“Sorry.” Ryan actually did look apologetic. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I shrugged. “I know.”
“So, she’s coming on tour?” Ryan asked, clearly trying to get me to talk about Vanessa. I was more than happy to oblige.
“Yes. And I’m going to use this opportunity to make her like me as much as I like her.” I had a whole plan worked out. Vanessa and I were talking more already. Soon, I’d have her exactly where I wanted her. Next to me. Every day.
Ryan smiled at me. He’d long been convinced that the true key to my stability and sobriety was a woman, which was, in fact, the opposite of what AA recommends. I couldn’t say whether he was right or wrong about what a woman would do for my sobriety in the long run, but I was willing to admit that a woman would certainly make me happier. Well, one woman. Vanessa.
“So, you’re really serious about her, aren’t you?” Ryan asked me between bites. He was going to chow town on his quinoa bowl. He might act like it was gross, but he sure was eating it efficiently for something so disgusting. I bet he didn’t even realize he was also eating olives. He thought he hated olives. “You’ve got it bad!” he teased.
“Remember when I had a crush on Marcy Brinkwood in high school?” I asked Ryan. “It’s like that, only worse.”
Ryan sat back. “Dude, she threatened to get a restraining order against you.”
“Only after we broke up.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did I miss something about this story?”
It’s possible that he had. He’d only been in middle school at the time. I retold the story as we ate.
“I was head over heels in love with Marcy Brinkwood. Or at least as in love as a fourteen-year-old could be. She was a cheerleader, class president, homecoming queen, and a total, absolute bitch.” I shook my head at the memory. She was so hot, and so evil.
“I definitely missed this,” Ryan said as I took a bite between sentences. “Sounds very dramatic.”
“It was. We dated for a few extremely hormonal, emotional, short weeks before breaking up. See, I realized something. She didn’t want a boyfriend. She wanted a slave. It turned out she was incredibly cruel under all the cuteness. Anyway, when I finally broke up with her, she spread rumors that I was obsessed with her and she’d dumped me. She even called the cops. It was a clusterfuck.”
“Sounds like a very high school thing to do.”
“Yeah, until the police got involved.”
Thankfully, it hadn’t come to anything. It turns out the police have better things to do than referee teenage relationships. She’d gotten a stern talking-to and I learned a valuable lesson about not deleting my AIM messages (this was all pre text messaging).
“So, um, what was the point of this story again?” Ryan asked.
“The point was that for a short period of time, I was totally smitten. From the moment I woke up in the morning to the moment I fell asleep, I thought about nothing else. It was an all-consuming madness.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you’re obsessed with Vanessa,” Ryan said. “That’s actually a bit frightening.”
“I’m not obsessed with her,” I told Ryan. “I just really enjoy her company. I’m not going to stalk her.” I wasn’t entirely sure that was true, but I’d never been the stalking type in the past, on account of that’s awful and illegal. I didn’t think I would do anything too weird or bad. I certainly wasn’t still subject to the emotional highs and lows of age fourteen. I might be unable to stop thinking about Vanessa, but I was pretty sure it was in a normal, excited to meet a new girlfriend kind of way. Not a creepy, staring through windows kind of way.
“Does she feel the same way?” Ryan asked me.
I shrugged, although my casual attitude belied a ton of genuine concern. “I hope so.”
“What’ll happen if you two start to hate each other on the road?”
Damn Ryan and his reasonable questions. “I don’t think that will happen.”
“But if it does?”
There was no way.
“We’re both professionals,” I said.
Ryan snorted into his quinoa. “She might be.”
“Give me the benefit of the doubt here. I’m ont
o something good.”
Ryan didn’t quite look convinced, but he nodded. I knew he wanted me to succeed. “Well, just tell me if I need to book a double wedding venue instead of a normal one.”
I gaped at him. “What did you say?”
Wedding? What wedding? Whose wedding?
He smirked. “I said, let me know if I need to book a double wedding venue instead of a normal one.”
I swallowed. “Is that your way of saying you’re getting married?”
“I guess it is.” His smirk turned into a full-blown smile and jealousy made my blood pressure rise. My baby brother always had his shit together, and he was worried that I couldn’t keep things civil with a woman I liked on a bus for four weeks. He was also worried I’d relapse on the tour and run my life back into the ground. The worst part was that none of his worries were unfounded.
Then again, his future wife still couldn’t buy a legal drink.
I toasted him with my Topo Chico. “Congratulations on your child bride.”
20
Vanessa
It barely qualified as a bus. The vehicle we were going to be living on was more like a small train with wheels. It was as long as a mobile home and almost as wide. I blinked up at it in wonder. It had to get atrocious gas mileage.
“So, what do you think?” Wendy asked me, bouncing her baby on her hip.
I shook my head at her. “It’s very impressive.”
“Size isn’t everything,” Jack said, sweeping up from behind us to throw his luggage on the growing pile. “But it’s not that horrible once you get used to it.”
Tom was right behind him, snickering. “Sounds like a review of Ian’s skill in bed, right Vanessa?”
They high-five’d and I wondered what I had just gotten myself into. The band acted like, well, a bunch of boys. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me that they weren’t a bunch of choir boys. Their antics were actually a bit endearing, but I could see it getting old after a while.
“Don’t worry,” Wendy said, clearly reading my misgivings, “they always act like idiots and while they might be mildly offensive, I promise they’re entirely harmless.” She frowned at the two men until they both apologized obediently and shuffled off.
I was impressed at the tiny blonde. Then again, she had a history of shanking people. Maybe she was just a lot tougher than she looked. “You seem to have figured out how to control them,” I told her. “What’s your secret?”
She shrugged. “Stern looks mostly.”
I sincerely doubted that Wendy had any stern looks to give anyone. She looked like a Disney princess, and she dressed like one too. Today she was wearing a pink dress with a light blue crinoline under it. I’d had something similar when I was five, but somehow, she was pulling it off. When you’re that beautiful, I guess it doesn’t matter what you wear. I’d look like a demented cosplayer in that outfit.
“Are you coming along?” I asked, wondering if I’d have any female companionship on the bus.
Wendy shook her head. She answered in a low voice. “No. At least, not for most of it. Only the first leg. We’re going to try this with the baby, and Jason seems to think it’s going to work great, but I’ve already bought my plane ticket home.”
I nodded, eyeing the baby. He was happily napping against his mother’s shoulder right now like a sleeping angel, but he was a pooping, screaming, perpetual motion machine. All kids that age were little nightmares when they wanted to be. Being cooped up on a bus with a baby might drive us all insane.
“I’m glad you decided to come on tour,” Wendy told me. “It’ll be nice to have more women. There will actually be three of us.” She led me over to where Ian and Ryan were talking with another petite blonde. “You’ve met Rosie, right Vanessa?”
I shook my head. Ian was grinning at me. “Rosie is going to be my new sister-in-law,” he said. “She’s marrying Ryan, God knows why. She’s also opening for us, for much clearer reasons.” His brother, Ryan, beamed. “I’m glad you two are meeting.”
Rosie, who upon closer inspection was only about nineteen, smiled at me. I knew her name from her music, but I hadn’t met the young singer-songwriter. I certainly hadn’t realized she was so young. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.
I shook her hand. “Same here. I heard you play at ACL last year. It was a great show.”
“Thanks! It’s good to know Ian’s girlfriend has such good taste in music,” she replied.
Everyone suddenly went very quiet. I felt myself turn beet red and poor Rosie looked confused. Ryan and Wendy were hiding their smiles. Ian looked mortified. Was I Ian’s girlfriend? Does going on one date and having sex make me his girlfriend? What had Ian been telling people?
Ian cleared his throat. “Do you want a tour of the bus?” he asked me.
I nodded, just desperate to get out of this conversation.
“Sorry,” Ian told me when we made it out of earshot.
“Am I your girlfriend?” I asked. “Because I’d kind of like to know.”
In fact, I was suddenly desperate to know. Was that the only reason I was even here? I hated the feeling of self-doubt that had just catalyzed in me at Rosie’s offhand comment. Was it possible that Don only asked me to be here because Ian wanted to sleep with me? Were my videos bad?
On the other hand, if it wasn’t Ian who was behind my presence here, did the whole band just think I was after Ian? Did they think I was just some weird groupie? There were so many angles to my self-doubt and confusion. It would take me some time just to sort through all my new neuroses.
Ian, however, was looking at me earnestly. “I’d like it if you were. Do you want to be?”
My lips parted in shock. I stared up into Ian’s blue eyes and wondered if I was losing my mind. Maybe I was actually in a coma and these entire last few weeks were my crazy coma dream. It seemed as likely as anything else. Certainly, as likely as Ian asking me to be his girlfriend.
Still, even if this was a crazy coma dream, it was a good one. I thought about all the times I’d encouraged Faith and Caroline to take risks in their lives to get what they wanted. It was time I doubled down on my own advice.
Maybe it would only be for a little while. It would probably end in disaster. I could only foresee this whole situation becoming more tenuous, fraught, and unpredictable as time went on. We were going to be living on a fucking bus together with five other people. It was no place to start a relationship.
But my eager, desperate little heart and raging hormones didn’t care. I just wanted Ian and would be more than happy to have another naked adventure with him next to the Rinkydink Roller Rink dumpsters.
I heard myself answering, feeling vaguely out of my body. “I think I might, but maybe let’s just take it slow. For a while?”
21
Ian
The Axial Tilt tour was starting right back where we began. Dallas. It was my hometown, but, boy, was it unrecognizable from when I was kid.
The area of town where Jason, Ryan, Jen, Jack, and I had lived used to be kind of a dump. It wasn’t horrible, but it also wasn’t where you settled down to raise a family. It also wasn’t where you walked around after dark by yourself if you knew what was good for you.
My, how things had changed. Today, the area was in the midst of some of the most hardcore gentrification Dallas had to offer. Because of its proximity to downtown Dallas, property values had skyrocketed. Today the empty warehouses and dive bars were condos and trendy restaurants. There were hot yoga studios, smoothie places, and fashionable boutiques where there used to be bodegas and super-sketchy tattoo parlors.
I kind of missed the overwhelming griminess. It was charming. This was too artificial, shiny, and generic for me. The rest of the band seemed to feel the same way.
“This is horrible,” Jason remarked as we watched a pair of tourists go by our blacked-out bus windows on Segway’s. “It’s even worse than the last time I was here.”
&nbs
p; “It’s an abomination,” I agreed. “Although, have you ever been on a Segway?”
Jason smirked. “Fuck no. Have you?”
“Yes, and I have to tell you, it was pretty enjoyable.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re an abomination.”
“Maybe so. At least I’m a fun abomination.”
The show was actually due to begin in just a few minutes. We were hanging out here because there was no green room at the venue and, honestly, even if there was, this bus was probably better. It really was a miracle of modern engineering.
I used to really enjoy watching Cribs on MTV in high school. Every so often they would show some band’s tour bus, and I’d think to myself that one day I’d be hanging out on a bus that was just like that. And now, finally, I was.
It was a hell of a bus. It had compartments, like a train. Someone had really thought out how to make living on a bus bearable for a bunch of adults and all their shit.
The key seemed to be giving everyone separate spaces. There was a space for eating, a space for sleeping, a place for watching television, etc. Instead of feeling like I was on a bus, it was more like being in an extremely narrow apartment that moved. Which, I guess, was sort of the point.
“Are you ready?” Jason asked. “Remember the first time we were here?”
I nodded, feeling nostalgic, excited, and scared.
“I’ll never forget.”
We were playing one of the few venues that hadn’t been eaten up by greedy condo developers. It just happened to be the very first venue that we’d played together after signing our first record deal. Our first ‘real’ show.
And now we were here again. I could only imagine how shabby and lame the venue must look to Vanessa, who was right now trying to figure out how to film in such a weird, tight space. But back then, to us, it had seemed like we had arrived.
I’d been shit-faced that night. As usual. Thankfully, perhaps, it wasn’t particularly hard to play the drums while drunk. To my knowledge, of all the instruments, the drums are the most compatible with drunkenness. I’d played the crap out of those drums that night. It had felt like all my dreams were coming true. I’d been wrong, of course. Two weeks after that show, Jen would die and our collective lives would all be ruined to varying degrees, but at that moment, I’d been sure we were on the verge.
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