All The Things We Were

by Kayla Tirrell

  Before I knew it, Owen, the lead singer of the band, was holding the microphone and welcoming everyone.

  “Thanks for coming out to Wild Bill’s tonight. I’m Owen, the lead singer of The Band.” Cue the frantic screaming from the girls in the crowd. And some subtle eye-rolling from their newest guitarist. I still couldn’t believe no one cared there was already a band called The Band. They were pretty big in the 60s. I mean, what the hell kind of group played folk-rock and didn’t know all the lyrics to The Weight?

  Focus.

  Matt started banging his drumsticks in time to the beat of the song we were about to play, and it was my chance to see if I had what it took to be in a band playing in front of a crowd of maybe fifty people.

  I spent the next hour concentrating on my playing. My fingers flew across my guitar, and I only missed a couple of notes. Not bad for only a couple weeks of practicing together. Owen practically made love to the microphone as he belted out the lyrics to the songs we played. Some were originals, but most were covers of popular songs.

  They were the crowd favorites. It was easy to tell from my standpoint on the makeshift stage. The cheering was just a little bit louder, the dancing more enthusiastic. And because the lighting wasn’t great, we could see the girls who were in the front row singing along when they knew the words.

  Being on stage was awesome. Exhilarating. When we finished, I already knew it was something I wanted to do again.

  I never wanted to stop. I wanted to play one more song, and then another. It was a good thing I didn’t have any say because I didn’t realize how tired I was until the music quit and I started packing my gear up. I could barely keep my eyes open after my long day.

  I’d just finished wrapping up my cords and shoving them in my backpack when Owen walked up to me. He had the typical lead singer vibe. Tight pants, faded band tee, longish hair that was wet with sweat after our performance. “Great job tonight, Owen.”

  “I know.” His smile was condescending. “Too bad you were as stiff as a statue up here. Maybe you can pretend you are enjoying it a little next time.”

  Pretend I enjoyed it? I thought the goofy grin I couldn’t get off my face was a dead giveaway of just how thrilling it had been to me.

  I tried to come up with a quick response but was completely caught off guard by his comments. By the time I thought of something to say, he was long gone. I spotted him down on the floor laughing with a couple of the girls who’d been checking him out the whole time. I didn’t recognize them.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Matt said, walking over to me. “He’s more in love with himself than a girl taking pictures of herself.”

  “Everyone else in the band seems so chill.”

  “Yeah, and everyone else sounds like a beached whale when they try to sing. We needed a singer. Owen not only fills that spot, but also gives one hell of a performance. The girls love him.”

  “He said I was too stiff.”

  Matt laughed. “Dude, you looked like a statue.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It’s your first time. I get it,” Matt reassured me. “Try practicing in front of the mirror or something.”

  I could picture it now. Me downstairs in the basement with my guitar, practicing my moves in front of the mirror. Chances were, Sarah would pick that exact moment to come barging down. If she caught me, I’d never hear the end of it.

  There had to be another way.

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  Matt laughed again. “Rainier, I can already tell you’re full of it. But seriously, figure it out. You’re a great guitar player. You just need to work on your stage presence.”

  “I will,” I said slinging my backpack over my shoulder and grabbing my amp. “But right now, I just need to get home and go to bed.”

  “You’re the lamest rock star I know.”

  “Good thing I’m only an honorary member until Cooper gets patched up then.”

  “Good point.” Matt put a hand on my shoulder before he walked back over to his drum set and started his breakdown.

  It only took me two trips to get all my stuff into my car before I was able to head home. I didn’t want to unload my stuff when I got home, and I doubted anyone in our small town would take my stuff right out of our driveway. Who would think to rob an old station wagon anyway? But equipment was expensive, and I was a broke college student.

  I sighed to myself before opening the door to the backseat. I grabbed what I could and went to close the door, only to see Sarah standing next to me. I hadn’t seen her walk up, but I was too tired to be startled.

  “Since I couldn’t come to the show tonight, I can at least help you with your things.” She shrugged her shoulder.

  “You really are the best sister. Did you know that?”

  “Only because you tell me every day,” she said with a yawn. “Sometimes twice a day.”

  I handed her the lighter things, the backpack full of cords and guitar case. I grabbed the amp and speaker cabinet from the very back of my car.

  “How was work?” I asked, as we carried everything to the front door of our parents’ house.

  “Long. I swear sometimes I don’t think working at The Farmhouse is worth it.”

  “Yeah, but how else you gonna stick it to Mom and Dad?”

  She smiled. “Speaking of, they stayed up so they could hear all about your show. You really should let them go next time. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  I stopped at the door before opening it. I lowered my voice to a loud whisper in case they were listening on the other side. “Have you met our parents? I’m not sure if there’s any way to stand out more than inviting them.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. Mom and Dad love you.”

  “I don’t doubt that.”

  “Then let them come be supportive.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Fine. But you’d better let them be excited when we walk through that door.”

  “You’re terribly concerned, considering you're the self-proclaimed problem child.”

  “Well, that doesn’t mean I don’t throw them a bone every once in a while,” she said, before opening the door and walking in.

  The comforting smell of patchouli hit me as soon as I walked through the front door. I followed Jenny inside to the living room where my parents were waiting with barely restrained enthusiasm. I could see it in the way they both sat on the edge of the seat cushions in anticipation.

  My mom's long hair was pulled back in a bun. My dad still had his blue bandana tied around his head. He claimed it hid the fact that he was going bald. As soon as I walked closer and set my amp on the ground, they jumped up.

  "How’s our little rock star?” My mother pulled me into a hug. “Please tell me you have pictures.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” I answered, my voice muffled by her shoulder. She had me in a death grip and wasn’t letting go.

  “What do you mean you don’t have pictures?” my dad asked from beside me. He wore similar glasses as mine and was frowning behind his thick white beard. “I happen to have it on good authority that teenagers these days are always taking pictures with their phones.”

  My mom loosened her grip and looked at my face. I could see the crow's feet on the outer corners of her eyes as she examined me. “Your father’s right. That’s what teenagers do these days.”

  “Well, it’s not exactly easy to take a picture when you’re using both hands to play guitar, and I forgot to ask anyone to take pictures for me.”

  “Next time, Rainier.” She sat down and motioned for me to do the same.

  We spent the next several minutes talking about the show. They wanted to know what it was like to play in front of all those people. Was Wild Bill’s as bad as people said? Could I remember all the songs? When was the next performance?

  I looked over to my sister who was giving me an encouraging nod. “Mom, Dad, I actually thought you might want to come see the next one.”

  M
y mom clasped her hands together, and my dad took the opportunity to stand up, walk over, and put his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll be there. But now it’s time for your mother and me to get some rest. We’re so proud of you, son.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Goodnight.”

  When they were finally out of earshot, my sister turned to me. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  “Yeah, asking wasn’t the part I was worried about,” I said, before going down to my basement bedroom and going to sleep myself.

  Chapter Five

  Michelle

  A few days passed before Dad asked me to work at the bookstore again. He said he was still figuring out what my regular schedule would be, but for now, I could expect to be on call. That meant I couldn’t make any real plans. He was the worst.

  When I went into Between the Pages that morning, I half expected to see Rainier and his nerdy-self sitting behind the counter or putting books on the shelving around the store. Or, maybe even charming some more middle-aged women looking for their lady porn.

  I didn’t expect to see Jenny. I guessed she wasn’t sick anymore. I could already see the smug superiority written across her face with the fake cheerfulness in her expression.

  I didn’t say anything as I set my purse down on the counter. I gave Jenny a plastic smile of my own in return.

  “Let’s just put everything out there, shall we?” Jenny crossed her arms over her chest. “You were a real jerk to me our senior year. I know you don’t like me, and I know you don’t want to be here, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you walk all over me like you did with Rainier.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t think the store ran itself when you weren’t here, did you? We worked together yesterday, and I asked him what to expect.”

  They were already talking about me behind my back. Nice.

  “He told me to stay out of his way while he did everything,” I said, not that I needed to give Jenny an explanation.

  “Rainier was in a hurry, which is why you got away with it. I don’t have anywhere to go. Which means if we stay late and your dad has to pay me more, so be it. You’re going to learn the ropes, and you’re going to pull your weight.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Here,” she said handing me a stack of books and pointing to the wall opposite of where we stood. “These all go on the fiction wall. It’s alphabetized by the author’s last name. If you can’t remember what comes after G, we have some alphabet books in the children’s section.”

  Oh, she’d gotten some attitude in the past year. The last time I’d spoken to her, she was a music geek with an unnatural love of the violin. She carried that thing all over our high school campus. One time, during senior year, I tripped her in the hall.

  It wasn’t my fault the case went flying across the floor, and Tyler had kicked it even further away from her. I still remembered the way she tried not to cry while we all laughed at her. Seeing her so different now behind the counter of the bookstore made me feel…weird. It wasn’t exactly guilt because we were just having fun. That said, I didn’t think I’d be messing with her again anytime soon. She had a newfound confidence.

  That was something I could respect.

  I took the books she gave me and walked over to the fiction wall. I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of titles now that I was closer and had to find where the books in my hands went. Thank goodness, my dad didn’t own a Barnes & Noble. I’d only been in once when Avery wanted to stop in to get coffee and a copy of The Hunger Games.

  “Everyone else is reading it. I thought I might too,” Avery had said when I asked her what she was doing.

  “We could just watch the movie,” I’d argued.

  She hadn’t wanted to watch the movie though. It took her less than two days to finish it before she was buying the next two books in the series. At least she agreed to buy them from Between the Pages that time. Might as well help my dad out if she was going to be a nerd.

  Looking at the shelves on the wall now, none of them seemed like those books. There were scenic looking covers, symbol-ridden ones, even some wild artistic looking books. I didn’t see Katniss anywhere.

  It took me about fifteen minutes to put the stack of books away, and when I returned to the counter triumphantly, Jenny handed me another armful. “These go in the romance section,” she said, before ringing up a customer's items.

  I looked down at the book on top of the stack in my arms. It looked similar to the book I’d made fun of the other day. A shirtless man was embracing a woman in a flowy dress. The title was something about a rake, although I didn’t see anything remotely related to gardening. I opened up to a random page in the middle.

  Lord Chauncey steered Lilith away from the ballroom in which the many members of the ton were dancing the waltz. What a scandalous dance indeed. Of course, it wasn’t nearly as nefarious as what the Lord had in mind once they reached the balcony of the manor.

  “I had to see it for myself,” a voice shrieked from beside me, and I dropped the stack of books I was supposed to be putting away. I was startled and only slightly embarrassed by what I was caught reading. I looked up to see my mother standing in front of me.

  “I heard your father had you working here this summer and I could not believe it.”

  “Believe it.”

  She ignored me and bent down to pick up the books that had fallen onto the floor. “And now you’re reading this garbage?”

  “I wasn’t reading it.”

  “Honey, I caught you with it open and your eyes glued to the page. This stuff is disgusting.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You ran off with Daniel. I don’t think reading about a dance is any worse than that.” I snatched the book out of her hand. “Besides, what choice did I have. It was this or get cut off.”

  “You could move in with me,” she suggested.

  No thank you. My mom had never been the maternal type. She preferred playing tennis with her friends and getting massages than doing anything remotely motherly. But it was more than that. I’d watched as she snuck behind my dad’s back with some fancy plastic surgeon from Boise. They’d even met up in Cancun during our last family vacation together. He was born in Mexico before moving to the States as a young boy with his family. Now that he was a successful doctor, he liked to visit as a tourist.

  You know, enjoy the sights. Destroy families.

  I didn’t like the way Mom had done that to Dad. And I especially didn’t like the way my dear ol’ stepdad was always trying to help me. I couldn’t count how many times he had offered to help me with my breast problem. I was a healthy c-cup. I didn’t particularly want to go any bigger. I didn’t want him anywhere near them.

  “I’m really okay. I’m thinking about moving on campus next year, so it’s only temporary anyway.”

  “Is your father paying for that?”

  I hadn’t mentioned it to him yet. “Uh, huh.”

  “Don’t believe everything he says.”

  “Says the person who lied to him for a year.”

  I couldn’t stand the woman who was standing in front of me. She’d spent the last couple of years trying to pin me against Dad. I wasn’t blind. I could see what had gone down and I did not appreciate being manipulated.

  “Oh, Michelle, you think because you’re nineteen, you know everything. You don’t. Come live with Daniel and me.”

  “I already said no. I’m sure you will be fine without me.”

  We sat and went back and forth for several minutes. It was the same conversation we’d had time and time again. I didn’t know how else to convey how much I hated my mom without flat out saying I hated her. I was ready to scream by the time she gave up.

  “Let me know if you change your mind. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy your book.” My mother flipped her hair and walked out of the store. I couldn’t understand why she was so persistent. There was n
o way she was doing it out of the kindness of her heart.

  When I said my dad was ruining my life, I meant he made it difficult and I got frustrated by the rules I felt were unfair. But my mother really was ruining my life. She was evil. She’d threatened to move to California or Florida with her new husband time and time again. I wished she would do it already.

  I slammed the books against the shelving as I found where they were supposed to go. I was annoyed I had to relive the divorce of my parents whenever I saw the woman who spawned me. It made me never want to be in a relationship again. I could be single for the rest of my life. Maybe I’d become a cat lady.

  I looked at the romance titles as I put them away and couldn’t help but laugh because this was exactly why lonely women like the one that came in earlier during the week read this crap. It was easy. It was about dancing and stolen kisses on balconies. It didn’t tell you about the heartache, the cheating, the lack of understanding.

  Well, I had to assume it didn’t because there was no way I was going to find out.

  I went back up to the counter to grab more books. I was eager to do something. Jenny didn’t say anything when I came looking for more. She just grabbed another stack of books and told me they went in the science fiction section.

  This time the pile consisted of books with pictures of spaceships and…well, there were a lot of spaceships on the covers. Some Star Wars and Star Trek covers too, which surprised me because I thought they were TV shows. It didn’t matter, and I put the books away with the same enthusiasm as the ones before them.

  This continued on with a new section every time until I went up to get the newest pile and Jenny shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t expect you to get through them all.”

  “Wait, that was it?”

  “We only get so many deliveries.”

  I wasn’t ready to give up my momentum though. Working was surprisingly therapeutic after seeing my mom. If I sat down in my chair behind the counter, I’d be left with my thoughts, and I didn’t want that.