by Elle Bennett
“Look, I know it sucks. We just met,” he said. “We haven’t gotten to explore what this could be. But my band will always come first. My career will always come first. I’m interested in keeping you around, though. I don’t know about you, but after last night… God, April. We didn’t even sleep together, and I can’t stop thinking about you. You know how weird that is for me?”
I smiled. I did know how weird that was. It was the same for me.
“So, I need to go on this tour. I need to get Peristerophobia’s name out there more, and I… I don’t know. You’ll probably think I’m insane. But I want you to come with us.”
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
“Sorry, I think I misheard you. What was that?” I asked. For a moment, I wondered if I was hallucinating, if Calvin had turned the coffee into an extra special blend that morning.
“Will you come on tour with us?” he asked again.
Shit. On one hand, a tour would be incredible. I would see more Peristerophobia shows in a month’s time than I could have ever thought possible. I could hear songs before anyone else. I could live out the dream of being on tour without actually having to perform. On the other hand, there was that voice in the back of my head, telling me that if I continued to hook up with Andrew and went on tour with him, that I was no better than my mother. My worst nightmare.
“I know it’s a crazy idea,” he said. “I know that. The guys are cool with it. I told them that you can help work the merch table, or help us with equipment. We can show you how it all works. Normally we have a friend come with us to help with the merch, but he can’t make it this time, so you’d really be doing us a favor. And I want you with me. I know we just met, but you’re a fucking catch, and if I leave you alone for a month, I know some other douche with a guitar and a penchant for good lyrics could sweep you off your feet and steal your heart. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Andrew, I -”
“Please, April. Don’t let us end before we even have a chance to begin.”
The song he wrote me popped into my mind. Those last words he sang, the way he sounded so hopeful when he sang them. “Don’t let this be the end of our story, let it be the start.”
“Let me think about it? It’s not something I can just jump into. I need to think.”
“Call me when you figure it out?” he asked.
“Yeah. I will. I’ve got to go. Bye.”
He said goodbye as well, then we hung up our phones. I walked back out to the floor, where Calvin was watching things while I took my break. When he saw my face, he looked concerned.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No. Yes. I don’t know. Um. When does Karen come in? I need to talk to her.”
He pulled the schedule out from next to the register and told me she’d be in after I left. So I stayed after my shift, waiting in the manager’s office, until Karen showed up. When she did, she jumped back and held a hand to her heart. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and as always, she was dressed no differently than the rest of us, despite the fact that she owned the place. She was always a cool boss, so I figured that I had a good chance of working this out with her.
“Jesus, April. What are you doing here? Didn’t your shift end at two today? I can’t afford any overtime this week.”
“I’m clocked out. I was waiting for you to get here.”
“Okay?”
“If I needed some time off, could that be arranged?”
She sat her purse down below the desk and I moved out of her chair so she could sit. I leaned against the desk while she pulled papers from a drawer.
“When do you need it off?” she asked.
“Next week. Through August.”
Karen let out a laugh.
“That’s not possible. That’s a fucking month-long vacation. I don’t even get those. Even if I could give you that much time off, the system would delete you after two weeks of being gone, and I’d basically have to rehire you. It would be easier to just hire someone new if you quit like that.”
“I’m not quitting, I just need some time off.”
Her face paled.
“Are you sick?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
Karen sighed, and she was back to her rosy self.
“Then you’re working your regular shifts or you’re quitting. Which is it?”
I hated to prove that I was definitely my mother’s daughter, but I was about to pull a total Cassidy move. And I knew it was a bad idea. The dark feeling deep in my gut told me that it was a shit thing to do. But I said the words, “I quit.” The last impulsive decision I made hadn’t turned out well, and I had a feeling that this one might not either. But what could I say? I never was good at learning a lesson.
I walked out of Karen’s office without another word, ignoring whatever it was that she said as I left. I took off my apron at the counter and sat it next to the register. I waved goodbye to the crew and I left Cranberry, my heart pounding against my chest.
For the first time in a long time, I felt alive.
As I walked towards my car, I dialed Andrew’s number.
“Please tell me you’re coming,” he said in lieu of hello.
“Hell yes, I am.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Let me take you places
I’ve always wanted to run to
Places I feared
Long before I found you
“Live Like You’re Dying In Fifty Years,” Peristerophobia
Erica Hall:
I’m sorry, what about you going on a tour with a bunch of strangers is a good idea?
Me:
It’s Peristerophobia. It’s not like I’m volunteering to tour with a band I’ve never heard of.
Erica Hall:
I’m sending you mace. Overnighting it.
Me:
Seriously, I’ll be fine. I trust them.
Erica Hall:
You don’t KNOW them.
Erica Hall:
The most you know about them is that you like their music and Andrew’s dick.
Me:
God, Erica. You have to chill. I can take care of myself. I’ve done without my mother for most of my life, I don’t need you to act like one for me.
Me:
Seriously, don’t worry about me.
Erica didn’t actually send me mace. Or return any more texts.
I called my dad the night before we left for tour. I asked him to watch Pigeon, and I got a fifteen minute lecture on responsibility and the fact that I shouldn’t have a dog if I can’t properly take care of it.
Poor Pigeon seemed to understand that I was going to leave him with my father for the next few weeks. He walked around with little droopy ears, whining every time I went near the door. I wished there was a way to take him with us, but the van we were going in was going to be packed tight enough as it was. No room for a dog.
I showed up at Andrew’s place in the early afternoon the day we had scheduled to leave. I had my dad drop me off so I could leave my car at his place while I was gone. I hopped out of the car and saw the guys and Andrew’s parents all standing in the middle of the driveway, packing up the van.
Ken’s van sat in the driveway, full of instruments and various electrical wires that I was kind of afraid to touch. The van was older, bulky. It was the kind of van that you expected to have darkened windows and a guy with a mustache in the driver’s seat. Maybe a sign on the side advertising free candy.
All I could hope was that it wasn’t a van that broke down a lot.
After tossing my bag into the back, I gave Andrew a hug hello. He kissed me on the cheek and gave me a huge, almost-laughing smile. It was the best smile I’d ever seen in my life.
“I can’t believe you’re actually coming with us. This is going to kick so much ass.”
I turned around to the guys and saw them all staring at me.
“You’re April, I assume?”
Ken asked.
“Um, yeah. That’s me. Why, have you heard something to make you question my existence?”
“Nah, just assumed you were, what with that hair and all,” Ken said.
“Right,” I said, tucking a red lock behind my ear.
Andrew turned way from me, gave each of his parents a hug, then they walked inside before I could say a word to them. I supposed they didn’t want to introduce themselves to me.
“So, can you drive?” Doug asked.
We started to pile in the van and Ken put the keys into the ignition.
“Yeah, but my license got suspended. One too many speeding tickets. No big, right?” I joked.
Ken whipped his head around to me and stared at me with his wide, brown, cartoon puppy-like eyes.
“Kidding,” I said.
“I like this one so far, Andrew. Keep her around, will you? Don’t ditch her on the side of the road in a random city.”
I side-eyed them both.
“Um. Was that ever an option?”
I really didn’t want them to prove Erica right.
“I promise it will not happen,” Andrew said, not answering my question. I grasped my necklace between my fingers.
“Okay, so April will get in on the driving rotation, then,” Doug said. He turned to me and explained, “Everyone gets a turn. Expect for Chad. He’s a shit driver. Especially when he’s medicated. Legally or illegally.”
I looked over at Chad, who had yet to say a word to me. He was sitting in the passenger seat, his usual gray hoodie on, the hood up over his head and covering his short black hair. His bloodshot eyes were darkened by the hood and glazed over in a way that made me suspect that, as usual, he wasn’t sober.
“Understandable,” I said.
If anyone had suggested that Chad got a turn, I would have taken the keys away from everyone.
Andrew draped his arm around my shoulders and I rested my head on his chest. In that moment, I didn’t regret a thing.
Chad finally turned around to look in the backseat, his eyebrows furrowed. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or just simply dumbfounded by my presence.
“Who’s the chick?” he asked.
“You’re an idiot,” Ken said.
“Write any new songs lately?” I asked Andrew, ignoring the guys in the front seats. I had a constant craving for Peristerophobia music, and now that I had Andrew in my life, I could get it before everyone else. Hell yeah, I was going to take advantage of that.
“Well, other than ‘My Favorite Month,’ we’ve been working on one called ‘Gap-Toothed Vixen.’ Ken has a serious thing for this gap-toothed chick who works at one of the venues we sometimes play. I keep telling him to ask her out. She gives him free drinks all the time. It’s obvious she wants to fuck him. Ken’s a dumbass.”
I laughed, though I was sure Ken wasn’t being a dumbass. It sounded like he was shy.
“You do realize I can hear everything you’re saying, right?” Ken asked from the front seat, his eyes on the road. All I could see from the backseat was a spike of brunette hair going past the silver piercing sticking out from the top of his ear cartilage.
“Yeah, I know,” Andrew said. “Did I mention that Ken’s balls never dropped? He’s like a prepubescent child.”
I snort-laughed.
Ken whipped around in his seat, causing the van to swerve.
“Dude, eyes on the road,” Andrew said.
“I will pull over and kick your fucking ass.”
I laughed at the thought of them getting into a physical fight. Neither of them were particularly muscular, but scrawny. Sure, Ken looked tougher, with his tattoos and piercings, but I had a feeling he was a teddy bear deep down.
“Guys, will you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to sleep over here,” Doug said from next to me, his head resting on the window. “I got no sleep last night, then you woke me up when I finally got to sleep…”
“Anything before five in the afternoon is early for Doug these days,” Andrew explained. “He’s barely even awake for our shows lately. It’s this new medication he’s on. It’s fucking him up.”
Now that I really looked at Doug (who looked rather unhappy with Andrew), I realized that his eyes did look glazed over, similar to Chad’s look. I had a feeling that Doug’s look had to do with legal prescriptions, rather than whatever Chad was on.
“Oh. That sucks. Why does he have to take them if they make him like that?” I asked.
“I’m right here,” Doug said. “You could just ask me. But the answer is that it’s none of your fucking business.”
“Doug’s scared of everything,” Andrew said. “His list of phobias is a mile long. He takes a cocktail of meds daily. His medicine cabinet is worse than a ninety-year-old man’s. Honestly, with all of his phobias, I’m surprised he can even play the drums. You’d think he’d be scared of them.”
“I’m not afraid of the drums, jackass. But you should be. The sticks can be deadly if I use them right,” Doug said.
“You wouldn’t hurt me. You’d be too scared to go through with it,” Andrew said with a chuckle. Doug glared at him in return. I was starting to worry about the fact that I was sitting in between them.
“I assume he has peristerophobia?” I asked.
“He does,” Andrew said.
I turned to Doug.
“What would you do if you saw a pigeon?” I asked.
“He’d freak the fuck out, April,” Andrew answered for him. “He’d start shaking in fear and run away, flailing his arms and screaming like a kid in a haunted house. He might even pee his pants.”
Doug let out a frustrated sigh.
“No, I wouldn’t. I don’t like pigeons. They creep me out. But I’ve never run away from one, shook in fear, or any shit like that. And I still don’t think it’s funny that you guys voted to name the band after one of my disorders. It’s not fucking funny. It’s actually really fucking awful.”
“He’ll forgive us someday,” Andrew said.
“Nah, he holds grudges worse than anyone else I know,” Ken said.
“And he does fucking flip out when he sees a pigeon,” Chad said.
“Sorry, Doug. Consensus isn’t on your side,” I said.
He ignored us after that. He fell asleep and by the time we were halfway to the city, we left him in the car to run and get snacks and use the bathroom while Ken filled up the gas tank.
“How are you guys paying for all of this, anyway?” I asked as Andrew handed over a card for his purchase.
“We make enough to get by,” Andrew said. He took my hand and we walked back out towards the van, where Ken was still pumping the gas into the tank. “We don’t make a lot of money, but we make some. Mostly from our merchandise, but we also have savings from our day jobs. And we save money by not paying a manager. Ken does all that shit for us.”
“Oh, then I’m glad I’ve bought so much of your merchandise,” I said.
We got back on the road within a few minutes, and the traffic slowed to a stop as we got closer to the city. Ken began to fidget in his seat as he put the van in park, giving up on the idea of even crawling along the freeway. His hands left the wheel and turned down the music, then turned to the three of us in the back.
“We’re going to be late. It’s your fault, Doug. I wanted to leave at noon, but no. You couldn’t possibly wake up by then.”
Doug flipped him off.
“Not my fault.”
“Actually, it is. We’d be an hour ahead of where we are now if we’d left when I wanted to. I told you yesterday what time we were meeting up. I told you that you could sleep in the van on the way. I even said that I didn’t expect you to drive today. But no, you couldn’t possibly make anything easier on anyone. You’re clearly the person the whole band needs to revolve around,” Ken said.
“Fuck you,” was Doug’s simple response.
I looked back and forth between the two guys. This wasn’t the playful fighting I’d seen earlier. This was legitimate
anger.
“We still have two hours until the show starts. We’re fine,” Andrew said, with a concerned glance at me.
“We’re in a fucking traffic jam in the middle of rush hour. We’re not getting there on time,” Ken said.
Andrew unbuckled his seatbelt and hopped into the back of the van. He pulled his acoustic guitar out of its case and began to play a few chords from a song I recognized, then moved on to a few chords that I didn’t recognize as any of his songs. He began to improvise lyrics.
“Traffic jams aren’t magic, they’re so tragic. We might make the gig, we might not, but at least I have this hot chick next to me. Bend over a little, April, so I can see down your shirt - ow.”
I smacked him softly on the shoulder.
We began to inch through traffic, and Andrew continued to play random chords as I sat there, listening to the music that became the soundtrack to our traffic jam. Eventually, we made it to the city and we barely made it to the mall on time. Thankfully, another band was playing first, which pushed our time back a little.
After the other band finished, Andrew and Chad stood in the middle of Konfusion and played their acoustic show. Doug, Ken, and I watched. The band that was playing before came up to us and offered each of us a free CD. I thanked them and put my copy in my bag. If that was how the entire tour would be, I was definitely glad that I’d decided to come along.
I was always happy to get free music.
Andrew announced the next song he was going to play was “My Favorite Month” and gave me a wink before he started to play. Apparently they had fans in the area who kept up with their most recent music on their social media, because some of the people in the crowd sang along. I didn’t realize they had a fan base out of town, though it made sense. They had played shows elsewhere before.
“Let it be the start,” Andrew sang, finishing out the song. He backed away from where he was standing and banged into a mannequin. “Hey there, baby. Come here often?”