Death, Dickinson, and the Demented Life of Frenchie Garcia

by Jenny Torres Sanchez

  I look around for Joel, trying to spot him by his signature dreads, before remembering they’re gone. Then I wonder if they really are, because being here somehow makes things surreal. I finally decide that if I’m dreaming, then Joel will still have his dreads. But if his hair is gone, then all of this must be an unfortunate reality. I spot Robyn, who is between Bobby and Colin, and head toward them reluctantly.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Yes! You’re here,” Robyn says and grabs me by the shoulders and jumps up and down. Bobby nods and Colin casually waves at me.

  “OH MY GOD!” Robyn screams suddenly. I look in the direction she’s looking and see Joel and Lily. They kiss before Lily heads onstage and Joel walks over to us.

  “Where the hell are your dreads?” she says. Not dreaming.

  “Gone,” he says, rubbing his head with a grin on his face. “What do you think?” he asks her.

  “You look like a white supremacist,” she says and a hyena-type laugh escapes my lips. Joel is half-black and the idea of him looking like a white supremacist is totally absurd. I also get an evil pleasure hearing Robyn cut on Joel. Everyone looks at me and I clear my throat.

  “Shut up, Robyn,” Joel says, and shoves her a little.

  “Relax, I’m just giving you a hard time,” she says. “You look great! It seriously rocks and no offense, you were totally ready for it.”

  “That’s what Lily said,” he says. I want to punch Robyn for not hating it as much as I do.

  “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumble.

  “What’s that, French?” Joel asks, leaning in.

  “Nothing. I just think you looked perfectly fine with them,” I say.

  “Not that they weren’t cool,” Robyn insists. “They were just getting old. I think this is much better.”

  “Right,” Joel says.

  “I dunno,” I say. “There’s something to be said about staying true to oneself. Take old cars for instance. Look at my car. It’s a good car. It’s never let me down. And sure, a new one would be nice, but would it ever really be like my old car? I don’t think so. Loyalty, kids. That’s what it’s all about.”

  They all stare at me once again with confused looks on their faces.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Joel asks and then they all bust out laughing.

  “Forget it,” I say, and I can feel the heat of embarrassment and anger creeping into my cheeks.

  Joel rolls his eyes at Robyn. I notice Colin looking at me and wearing an amused look.

  Lily and her bandmates are onstage making adjustments to their instruments. She says something to them, jumps offstage, and comes over to us, making her typical round of hugs.

  “French, you look adorable. Cool tights!” she says and points at the black spiderweb tights I’m wearing under some cutoff shorts.

  Adorable. I suddenly feel like a kindergartener at a recital. But then I hear Andy’s voice in my head, Hey, cool tights. I swallow hard as I suddenly realize I’d been wearing them that night. Did I do that on purpose?

  “Are you okay?” Lily asks when I don’t respond to her. Joel looks at me and his brow furrows. I need to act normal.

  “Uh, yeah. And thanks!” I say with forced enthusiasm. “That means so much.” But it comes out way more sarcastic and bitchy than intended.

  Lily looks at me, and then over at Joel, who gets a funny look on his face, so I quickly say, “Just kidding!” and force a laugh.

  “Is Bobby backstage?” Robyn cuts in. Lily nods. Robyn smirks and says, “Be right back, then!” and takes off for the stage.

  “So I heard some agent is checking you guys out tonight,” Colin says to Lily. “Is he here?”

  She leans into Joel and he puts his arm around her. “Yep, sitting over there at the bar,” she says and points in his direction and waves. We all turn to look at the same time and see a guy dressed in black lift a glass at us. He has shades on and looks like he’s trying too hard to look cool and unimpressed. I feel like bursting Lily’s bubble and telling her he’s probably a fraud.

  “I always thought short, bald, middle-aged men had all the power in the music industry,” Colin says.

  Lily laughs. “Oh, my! You better watch out, Joel.”

  They all laugh at her stupid joke.

  “Well, we’ll sit near him and keep him pumped while you’re playing.” Colin says to Lily.

  “Aw thanks, Colin,” she says and gives him a grateful look. “It’s just, so much is riding on this. If he likes tonight’s show, he might fly us out to California to record a demo. And if he really likes us, he’ll tour us on the West Coast for a while to get us out there. He thinks we have a good West Coast appeal. Isn’t that cool?”

  Before I can stop my brain, an image of me socking Lily in the stomach flashes through my mind. I can’t help it.

  “That’s pretty awesome,” Colin says.

  “Yeah, we’re definitely excited,” she answers and looks up at Joel. It takes me a few seconds to figure out what she means.

  “What do you mean ‘we’?” I say.

  Colin looks back and forth between the two of us . . . actually, the three of us.

  “French, I was going tell you,” Joel starts. “But it kind of happened out of nowhere.” He looks down and puts his hands in his pockets before saying, “I’m kind of going with Lily. Even if they don’t get signed, Sugar is going to tour anyway, so . . .”

  “So you’re going with her,” I finish for him.

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  Lily glances back and forth between Joel and me and looks worried.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . . ,” she says.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Joel says to her.

  I don’t say anything for a moment, as things start falling in place.

  “So you never even looked for a place in Chicago this summer, right?” I say.

  “I was going to, but . . . ,” he says and looks back at Lily.

  I nod. “I get it.”

  A guy who works here comes up to Lily. “We’re ready for Sugar,” he says.

  She turns to me and says, “I’m really sorry, Frenchie. I thought you already knew,” and she looks at Joel again.

  “You can go ahead, Lil,” Joel says. “I’ll take care of this.”

  My blood boils. I am this?

  “Okay, well, wish me luck,” she whispers to Joel, and he gives her a kiss.

  “You’ll be great,” he tells her. And then she jumps up onstage and starts talking to the band.

  “Of course you will,” I mutter.

  “Frenchie . . . ,” Joel starts.

  “Joel,” I say, “Just drop it.” He sucks in his breath and shakes his head, but says nothing more.

  Robyn suddenly appears and jumps offstage, crashing into me. “They’re gonna start,” she yells. I look over at Joel.

  “Come on,” Colin says and motions me to get closer to the stage. Robyn and Joel walk beside us.

  “Hi, everyone, we’re Sugar.” Lily’s throaty voice booms throughout the Stage. Out of the corner of my eye I see Joel watching her. He’s forgotten about me, and it’s all about Lily again.

  I wonder if I can bad juju their performance. I want the crowd to boo her and demand that she and her ridiculously named band get off the stage. But even if all those things happen, Joel still won’t be moving to Chicago and my only plan is completely ruined. Even though it already was.

  Bobby bangs his drumsticks together and yells, “Two, three, four!”

  And the place explodes. The song they open with is different than the other night, but it’s just as addictive. People start dancing, many of them singing along with Lily. Everyone is moving and Lily dances like she doesn’t care about anything.

  And damn it if it’s not one of their best performances. Agent Guy is nodding his head to the music as he watches Sugar and the crowd. I see a slight smile on his face and know he loves them. Despite all my bad juju, he loves them.
<
br />   In a break between songs, Joel yells, “I LOVE YOU, LILY!”

  She winks at him and blows him a kiss before going into the next song, and the next, and the next. And with each one, I get more and more pissed.

  Finally, their set is over and Lily exits the stage.

  “Babe, you guys kicked ass! This guy would be crazy not to sign you!” Joel says when she heads back over to us several minutes later. He’s grinning and looks so damn excited.

  “I thought we were good,” Lily says, “but I mean, it’s hard to tell when you’re up there—”

  “You were great, Lily,” I cut in and move in closer to her.

  “Thanks, Frenchie,” she says. “And I really am sorry—”

  “You were fantastic,” I say, cutting her off again. “Absolutely amazing. In fact, Lily, I don’t think there’s anyone who could ever top you. . . .”

  “Frenchie,” Joel says.

  Lily doesn’t say anything and just looks at the ground.

  “Stop,” Joel says, staring me down and I hold his gaze for a minute.

  “Whatever. I’m getting out of here,” I say and start shoving my way past him.

  I feel like a scab. Like a big loser scab.

  Joel grabs my arm. “French, stop. We gotta talk.”

  “No,” I say, pulling my arm back. “Clearly you’ve gotten everything all figured out.”

  Joel looks at me. “What the hell is your problem? I’m trying to talk to you.”

  “Just forget it,” I say.

  “No, I don’t want to forget it. I know you’re pissed and I get it. I should have told you sooner. It’s just hard when you never want to hang out, so how was I—”

  “Wait? What? Just hold on one fucking second, Joel,” I say. “You’re the one who bailed. You’re the one who’s too wrapped up in his own life to care about anything else.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he says. I stare at Lily. “So what, French? Am I supposed to apologize because I’m happy? That’s really shitty, you know that? And I am sorry. I’m sorry you’re bitter and miserable and you can’t be happy for me.”

  “Right! Oh, okay, yeah, Joel. That’s it. It couldn’t possibly be that whenever you ‘fall in love’ you forget about everything and everyone else in your life until you end up scaring the girl away,” I say, firing off the quote mark gestures like guns. “Let’s see, before you brought Punk Rock Barbie here,” I say pointing at Lily, “there was Julie, and then Kenso, and then that hippie chick. Or were those different?”

  Joel is glaring at me but I can’t stop. “Weren’t you in love all those times, too?” I say.

  “This is different,” he says through clenched teeth. Lily comes over and looks at me, her mouth wide open and her face frozen in shock by the words coming out of my mouth.

  “Joel . . . ,” she says. Joel shakes his head and looks like I am the devil’s spawn.

  “You know what, Frenchie? You’re a real fucking bitch,” he says. He says it like he’s never been more certain of anything.

  “Yeah? Well, you’re an asshole,” I spit back, “especially since she came into the picture.”

  “Just shut the hell up,” Joel says.

  “If it weren’t for her, you would’ve been here that night the way you said you would be!”

  “Lily, let’s go,” he says, and turns to leave.

  “That’s not fair. YOU didn’t show up! And now you’re bailing on me again,” I yell.

  “Whatever Frenchie. We’re done,” he says, like it’s final.

  Joel leaves and he doesn’t look back once.

  “FUCK YOU, JOEL!” I yell after him. I’m so pissed and I have so much adrenaline pulsing through my body right now that I’m shaking. Robyn pulls my arm and starts leading me out of the club and Colin follows us out.

  Once we’re outside, Robyn keeps telling me to relax but I’m fuming. “Robyn, that’s so unfair!” I yell at her and I’m on the verge of crying, but I won’t.

  “What the hell was that?” Colin says.

  “That,” I say, “was a dose of the truth!”

  Robyn looks at me the way people do when they know you’re wrong but don’t want to tell you.

  “Come on, Robyn, please,” I say. “I mean, aren’t I right?”

  “I guess,” she says. “But French, that was pretty harsh. Even for you.” She shakes her head.

  “Are you kidding? You don’t even get it.” My rage bubbles up again.

  “Okay, okay, okay,” Robyn says. “Just relax.”

  Colin and Robyn look at each other.

  “Let’s just go,” Robyn advises.

  When we get to my car, Robyn asks, “Do you want me to drive you home?”

  “No,” I answer.

  “It’s no big deal.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I tell her as I get my keys out. It’s totally ridiculous that she thinks I’m too upset to drive.

  “Come on, just let me.” She tries to grab the keys from my hand.

  “Stop,” I say. “Seriously, I’m fine.” I try to seem fine.

  Robyn looks doubtful and persists. “I just think . . .”

  “Damn it, Robyn! I said I’m fine,” I snap at her before she has a chance to finish. She gives me a look, and I know I’ve pissed her off now, too.

  Colin stands there looking uncertain about what he should do.

  “Fine. You’re fine,” she says. “I’m going back, then.” She turns and heads back in the direction of the club without saying anything else, leaving Colin and me alone.

  I sigh. “Robyn!” I call, but she’s already halfway down the block. Another friend bites the dust.

  “I better go,” I say to Colin and open my car door, signaling the go-ahead for him to leave also.

  “Uh . . . yeah, okay.” He looks like he wants to say something else but isn’t sure if he should. “Listen . . . do you maybe want to go somewhere?” he says.

  I shake my head and laugh because I can’t imagine anyone wanting to go anywhere with me right now. “Yeah, as you can see, I’m wonderful company.”

  He shrugs. “I mean, you just look like you could use a friend or something right now.” He looks genuinely concerned, which makes my face flush with embarrassment.

  “Thanks,” I say and shake my head. “But I should probably just go home.”

  He takes out his phone and fiddles with it for a minute. “Okay, but if you change your mind,” he says and suddenly my phone in my pocket starts ringing. “That’s me,” he says and hangs up. “Now you have my number. So, if you want to talk or something, you can give me a call.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I say and nod. “Wait. How do you have my number?”

  He shifts his gaze and says, “Uh, Robyn gave it to me that night at Zylos.”

  “Oh,” I say wondering why Colin hadn’t erased it yet after witnessing my numerous displays of being a total jerk. “Well, thanks,” I say.

  “Yeah, sure,” he says.

  I get in my car and start it up. Colin steps aside as I pull away.

  As I drive, my mind gets crowded with everything that just happened. I can’t stop thinking about the things Joel said, and the things I said. I’m suddenly aware of how I was yelling. How out of control I must have looked. How Robyn had to take me outside. And then, how I yelled at her. My eyes start to fill up with tears, but I wipe at them quickly.

  I open the windows. The hot night air rushes in and with it, Andy’s words from that night.

  I like this, driving at night with the windows open, he had yelled over the sound of the wind.

  Me, too, I yelled back, secretly adding another mark to the invisible tally I’d been keeping of all the ways Andy and I were alike and what it might mean. It was dark and my hair was whipping into my eyes, but I looked over at him and he was looking at me. There was something in that look that filled me with some kind of mixed happiness and sadness. There was something in that look, but the wind was too loud for talking. He had already leaned his he
ad back and closed his eyes and there was nothing more to say.

  I looked back at the road and the wind whistled louder. The music filled the car and I headed deeper into the night with Andy Cooper by my side, foolishly thinking we were driving into some kind of destiny.

  I turn up the music now, as loud as it will go, until the pounding in my head matches the beat of the song. It aches so much. I don’t want to be able to remember anymore.

  But I do.

  I remember everything. I remember Andy.

  Chapter 12

  When I get home, I turn down the music and sit in the driveway. Against my better judgment, I text Joel.

  Hey, tonight sucked. We should talk.

  I wait, but nothing.

  I know you’re pissed.

  Still no reply.

  So I guess ur just never gonna talk to me again?

  Nothing.

  Fine. Have a nice life.

  And with that, I’m pretty sure my friendship with Joel is over. I look toward the cemetery. Sadly, I think Em is now my best friend.

  I take out my wallet and slip out a newspaper clipping. It’s Andy Cooper’s obituary, already worn from all the times I’ve read it since the day I carefully tore it out of Harold’s morning paper. It was like any other morning, except it wasn’t. I scan it in its entirety and then reread the first couple of sentences several times, like I always do.

  Andrew James Cooper, 18, of Orlando, passed away in his sleep at his home. He is survived by his mother, father, brother, and grandparents. Andrew was a lover of words and ideas, and he was a seeker of truth.

  Passed away in his sleep. It almost sounds nice. It almost sounds like he was carried away on a dream and woke up in a better place and decided not to come back. It almost sounds like he could wake up if he wanted to. But then I guess putting something like Andy killed himself and all we got was a lousy suicide note would probably be inappropriate even if it was true.

  Nobody knows I cut this out and keep it in my wallet. I don’t know why I do because I kind of hate Andy’s obituary. I think it’s the “seeker of truth” that I hate most. It makes him sound so noble and better than us, like he died in the name of searching for truth.

  The valedictorian must have read it too, because she used those exact words in her graduation speech. It jolted me when she said them, and I got pissed as she presented those words to mean something more than they really did. She advised us to be seekers of our own truths, to search within ourselves and find out what we were passionate about, and then go out there and share that passion in some way with the world. And if we did this, the world would be a better place. She spoke like we all had certain futures. She spoke like none of us would fail, none of us would get lost, none of us would give up.