by Kim Holden
He answers my smile with one of his own. “Damn, it’s like you know me.”
I arch my eyebrows. “Well, we were in a somewhat intimate and vulnerable position last night. That tends to lend itself to getting to know each other better.”
His expression quickly transforms into unmistakable terror. “Shit. I thought I remembered most of what happened. You were in my bed.” He gestures between the two of us with his finger. “We didn’t … you know … ” He’s biting at the edge of his ring fingernail.
I shake my head and laugh. “No … we didn’t.” Not that I didn’t think about it. Want it.
“Are you sure? Because now that you say it I do remember you lying on top of me, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t have a shirt on because I remember how cold your hands felt on my chest.” He’s blushing as he remembers. He’s blushing. And it’s so cute. It seems too unlikely, but maybe he is a virgin.
“You’d just finished a shower when Shelly and I got there, that’s why you didn’t have a shirt on. I helped you to your bed because you were having a little trouble in the standing and walking department. You fell down on your bed and accidentally pulled me down with you. It was completely innocent. You passed out right after you hit the mattress.”
His eyes drop to the floor. “Classy,” he mutters under his breath. Then his head pops up and he squints like he immediately regrets the quick movement, but his face smoothes out into this pitiful, pleading frown. “Your coffee’s on me this morning.” He moves to grab a large cup from the stack.
I shake my head. “That’s not necessary, Keller. Listen, really, nothing happened. You were a perfect gentleman, a practically naked gentleman, but a gentleman nonetheless.”
His cheeks reddened. “I am an ass. I’m sorry.”
I have to laugh again because this embarrassed version of Keller just keeps getting cuter. “Dude, you’re not an ass. I’m teasing. Don’t be sorry.” To reassure him, I add, “Seriously.”
He opens his mouth and then closes it, perhaps thinking better of what he was about to say. He tilts his head and smiles at me and after a moment’s hesitation. “Katie, can we start over? Maybe hang out sometime? As friends?”
Attachment is dangerous, but friendship is necessary. “Sure,” I say, and I extend my hand across the counter. “Hi. I’m Kate Sedgwick.”
His defeated smile perks up and he shakes my hand. “Keller Banks.”
I set two dollars on the counter and scribble my cell number on a napkin on the counter. He swipes up both, putting the napkin in his pocket and the bills in the register.
After depositing my change in the tip jar I smile at his sleepy face. “Have a great day, Keller. Hope you feel better.”
“Already do. Thanks Katie. Have a good one.”
I turn and wink at him. “Always.”
Sunday, September 11
(Kate)
I try to call Maddie.
She doesn’t answer.
I leave a message.
She doesn’t return the call.
Yup, she’s still pissed.
Later, my phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s a text from Gus. Skype at 8:30CST?
I fire back, Sounds bueno.
When Gus’s face appears on the screen, it’s surrounded by several others and an instantaneous, obviously planned “Hi Kate!” erupts through my computer speakers. Except for Gus, who says, “Hi Bright Side!” It’s all four members of Rook, huddled around the screen.
“Wow. Dudes, what’s up? It’s not my birthday or anything. Why all the fanfare?”
“Bright Side, I present to you Rook’s self-titled, debut album.” Gus holds up a CD case so I can see the cover.
I slump against the back of my chair, suddenly overcome with emotion. I try to speak, but my voice is little more than a whisper. “Oh. My. God. Gus, it’s real.” Then I nearly scream, “It’s real!” as I lean back toward the screen. “Open it up, I want to see it!”
He does. The CD inside is shiny and it says Rook in black letters with their trademark crow standing next to it.
A hysterical giggle starts rising in my throat, threatening to close it off. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. “God, I wish I was there, because I would give each one of you the biggest fucking hug. Congratulations!”
“We wanted you to be the first one to see it. And we wanted to say thank you, as a band, for your contributions. You already know ‘Missing You’ is epic because of your superhuman talent.” He winks. “You do epic like no one else.”
I brush off the compliment with a wave of my hand. “Don’t tease me Gus. When do I get to hear the songs for myself?”
Gus smiles. “Already over-nighted a copy to your dorm room. You should see it tomorrow. Sorry I couldn’t get my hands on one earlier. We can’t download it electronically yet.”
“No problem. Thanks dude. I look forward to it. You fine gentlemen have made my day.”
Gus looks a little apprehensive. “There’s one more reason that we all wanted to talk to you tonight. We have a surprise for you.” He looks over each shoulder at his bandmates.
I narrow my eyes. “What?” This feels like a surprise I won’t be happy about.
Gus cringes and stalls. Then I hear Franco, the drummer, speaking from behind Gus. “Just tell her, dicklick. Jesus.”
“Bright Side, promise not to get mad?”
My suspicions have been confirmed. “That depends.”
Franco’s face appears over Gus’s shoulder, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Kate, did you pack Gus’s balls in your purse and take them with you to Minnesota?”
Franco’s face is forcefully removed from my laptop screen and Gus replaces him. “Fuck off, dude.”
My heart rate picks up and I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Tell me.”
Gus takes a deep breath. “We want you to hear the final version of ‘Killing the Sun.’” He pushes play on the CD player in his hand and holds it near the microphone on his laptop. “It’s probably going to sound shitty like this but you’ll get the picture.”
“What’s with the CD player? You’re not going old school hipster on me, are you? You sure you don’t have it on cassette or eight track?” I love giving him a hard time.
And he loves giving it right back. That’s why we’ve been best friends forever. “Piss off and just listen.”
The familiar single guitar plays and builds and Gus’s voice joins in soft and scratchy as always. As the first verse comes to a close, drums, bass, and the second guitar join in and with his voice builds to a crescendo that leads into the anthem-like chorus. I love this song. I’m getting goose bumps like I do every time I hear it. But as the chorus begins I realize it isn’t Gus’s voice singing the lyrics … it’s mine. I’m stunned, too stunned to speak. The rest of the song washes over me in some sort of dreamlike state as I hear my voice over and over again.
I shake my head when it’s over. “Um, Gus, I sincerely hope this is some sort of a prank, because I should not be singing the chorus on ‘Killing the Sun.’ That’s your job.”
Gus sheepishly sets the CD player down and takes a step back, pushing Jamie, the bass player, in front of him closest to the screen. “Bright Side, please don’t kill me, but this is how the song was meant to sound. I never realized that it could be so much more until I heard you sing it that night in the studio. I shared the recording with the guys and we all agreed your voice was the missing link.”
“Gus, I’m not a singer.”
Jamie pipes up. “The hell you’re not. I mean I always knew you could sing, but I think I may be in love with you now, Kate. Will you marry me? We’d have beautiful, talented babies—”
Gus grabs his shirtsleeve, yanks him back, and steps in front of him again. “That’s enough, lover boy. Jamie’s right though. You have this amazing, soulful voice.” He looks around at his bandmates.
They’re all nodding except Franco, who’s shaking his head adamantly. “I, personally, think sh
e could’ve done better.” Franco smiles and winks at me from behind Gus. He always teases me, but he’s clearly just thrown the comment out to see if Gus is paying attention.
Gus is paying attention. “Shut the fuck up, shithead.” With that, the focus is back on me. “Bright Side, we wanted to share you with the world.”
Then something occurs to me. “Don’t you have to get my permission or something?”
He smiles. “We did. Remember the documents you signed when you went into the studio with us?”
I think back. “Yeah, I guess I should have read them, huh?”
“Please don’t be mad. We left your name out of the credits for both songs because you were so insistent about it with ‘Missing You.’ You’re listed only as ‘a friend’ in the credits, just like you wanted, which I still think is really fucked up and just ... wrong. But, Bright Side, playing and singing with us, and what that has turned into ... it may be the biggest solid you’ve ever done me. And that’s saying a lot because through the years you’ve always been there for me. So, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”
Well, shit, when he puts it like that I can’t be mad. “You’re welcome,” I huff out in surrender. “And I’m not mad.”
Gus claps his hands once. “That’s my girl.”
I shake my finger at them all in warning. “But you guys owe me. Big time.”
I hear Franco’s voice float from the background again. “Kate, are you suggesting I repay the favor with sex? Because it’s getting really embarrassing the way you keep throwing yourself at me like this. Especially in front of the rest of the band.”
I laugh. “You wish, Franco. Not that sort of owe me. Like a front-row-ticket-and-backstage-pass-to-one-of-your-shows owe me.”
Gus laughs. “Bright Side, we’ll get you a ticket to every damn show and fly you there if you want.”
I smile. “One show will do.”
“Well, we’ve gotta let you go. MFDM is taking us out to dinner to celebrate. Somewhere fancy and he said we can’t wear shorts, so we all need to go change.” He looks straight into the camera. “We wish you were here.”
All Gus’s bandmates offer their goodbyes.
I wave. “Bye everyone. Congrats again.”
Gus’s face is suddenly very close to the screen and his voice lowers. “Really, I do mean it from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I love you, Bright Side.”
“Love you, too, Gus.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
Monday, September 12
(Kate)
The package from Gus was at the front desk for me when I stopped by in between classes at lunch time. I downloaded the CD into iTunes and my iPod, and have been listening to it all afternoon. It gives me goose bumps. It transports me away to a place that’s almost perfect. To a place where everything is good and nothing ever goes wrong and there’s no bad news. That’s where I need to be today, because as hard as I try to not think about it and not let life get me down, sometimes it does. And I don’t want it to. Because life is a gift. So listening to this music today … it’s like Gus has thrown me a life preserver. And it feels so good.
Tuesday, September 13
(Kate)
I text Gus while I’m walking to Grounds, Happy Album Release Day!! I’m SOOOOOOOOO proud of you Rock God!! Love you!!
My phone vibrates in my pocket later that afternoon as I’m walking to Three Petunias for my three-hour shift. It’s Gus.
“Holy shit! It’s the Rock God!”
He laughs. “Whatever, Bright Side. Am I interrupting anything? You’re not at work yet, are you?” It’s funny how with everything going on in his crazy life, he has my schedule memorized.
“Nope, just walking there now. I have about ten minutes. What’s up?”
“We added some dates to the tour this morning and I’ve got some outstanding news.” He sounds super stoked, which means I’m super stoked by association. “We’re playing the auditorium at Grant the day after your birthday.”
I stop walking. I couldn’t possibly have heard him right. “Dude … Grant? As in Grant, Minnesota?”
“The same.”
“No fucking way!” I’m jumping up and down now. People are staring. I don’t care. Rook will be here in a few weeks.
“Yes!” he shouts. I’m pretty sure he’s jumping up and down on the other end of the line, too. “Just let me know how many tickets you need. I’ll make sure you get VIP passes for you and all your friends.”
“Wow, that is … that is … outstanding.” I count off my friends in my mind: Keller, Shelly, Duncan, Clayton, Pete, and Maddie. Even though Maddie’s not talking to me I’d better include her just in case. And I should probably throw in one more just in case Clayton or Pete have a date. “Eight tickets including me. Is that too many?” Suddenly I feel selfish, and I answer my own question. “That’s too many.”
He chuckles at my concern. “I’ll make it happen. I want to meet these friends of yours. In a way, I feel like I already know them.”
“I swear Gus, if you say anything to embarrass me when you meet my friends, I’ll kill you.”
“God, Minnesota has drained all the fun out of you, hasn’t it, dude? You know I can’t operate that way.”
He’s right, he can’t. He’ll probably mortify me. But I love it because that’s one of the ways he shows his love. I lower my voice, “I can’t believe I get to see you again and it’s not on my laptop screen. And you get to see where I live and go to school.” I’m lost in thought. These are things I didn’t think would ever happen.
“I can’t wait.” He drops his voice, “Bright Side, I have a favor to ask. Um, do you think that, well … that you could play violin with us on ‘Missing You’ or sing with us on ‘Killing the Sun’?”
It crushes me to let him down, but he knows he’s pushing his luck. “Dude, I can’t.”
He lets out his breath like he’s been holding it. “I figured. Okay.” He sounds disappointed.
“Gus, I just want to go and watch you guys, like old times. You’re going to blow everyone away. Besides, I don’t want to steal your thunder,” I tease. Because no one could ever steal Gus’s thunder. When he’s on stage, you barely notice the rest of the band. The focus is always on him. Not that he tries. It just is.
He huffs. “Sweetheart, you could steal my thunder any time.”
I laugh.
“Well, our time’s almost up.”
“Yeah, I’m just getting to work. I’d better let you go. Thanks for the news about the concert and congrats again on the album release. I still can’t believe it. I’m so happy for you. You know that, right?”
“I know. I love you, Bright Side.”
“Love you, too, Gus.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Wednesday, September 14
(Kate)
Gus texts, Skype? Now?
I just got out of the shower and I don’t have to be at work for half an hour. And Sugar is at class so I have the room to myself. I text back as I’m powering up my laptop, Yes and yes.
When the connection is made, there’s an empty chair on my screen but no Gus. “Hello? Gus, are you there?”
I hear his voice loud and clear. “I’m here, Bright Side. And hello. I need your opinion about something.”
“Okay. Where are you?”
“I’m standing behind my laptop so you can’t see me. Dude, I want you to be honest, just please don’t laugh, ‘kay?”
“Sure.”
I see Gus’s favorite blue and green shorts walk in front of the screen, and then he lowers himself into the chair.
Before I can stop myself, I gasp in shock. “Holy shit, Gustov Hawthorne!” Gus’s almost waist-long, straight hair is gone. It now falls just past his shoulders. With all the length cut away, it looks a little wavy, like mine, though his is layered and rock-star shaggy.
“I know, right? The label hired a stylist for us. Said we couldn’t go on tour looking
like a bunch of surf rats. No more board shorts and flip-flops for a while I guess.”
I don’t know what to say. He looks like a different person.
He’s chewing the hell out of his bottom lip. “Is it that bad, Bright Side? Just tell me. Do I look like a tool?”
I shake my head. “Dude, I don’t know how else to say this other than to just come out and say it. You look fucking hot.”
Judging by the shocked look on his face, that’s not what he expected to hear. “Really? I thought you liked my hair long.”
“I do, but I haven’t seen you with your hair this short since we were kids. It looks sexy as hell. You’re going to have to fight off the ladies, you know that right?” He’s always had women of all ages throwing themselves at him. This haircut may take it to a whole new, ridiculous level.
“You think?” He looks a little self-conscious.
Definitely, I think to myself.
Thursday, September 15
(Kate)
As I’m walking to my car after my final tutoring session with Gabriel, I notice a text on my phone. It’s from Clay. SEE ME WHEN YOU GET BACK TO THE DORMS!
I text back as I walk. DON’T SHOUT AT ME! See you in 10 : )
My phone chimes again as I start my car. DRIVE THE SPEED LIMIT AND I’LL SEE YOU IN 20.
I laugh because he knows I’m in Minneapolis.
Clay guilted me into taking down my speed, so I split the difference and pull into the lot fifteen minutes later.
Clay flings the door open just as my knuckles make contact to knock.
“Dude, what’s the emergency?” I half laugh because he looks frantic, but not in a something-absolutely-awful-has-happened way, just in an I’m-panicked-and-don’t-know-what-to-do-about-it way.
He seizes my shoulder and pulls me into his room. The door shuts quickly behind me. Pete is sitting on his bed across the room engrossed in a book but he offers his usual, “Hello Kate.”
“S’up Pete?” I nod in Pete’s direction before returning my focus to the manic little man in front of me.