Too Many Reasons

by Kristen Strassel

  My head was fucking pounding. I’d felt like shit before this even happened. After an hour of waiting for Devon to wake up, I gave in and put my head down on the mattress by Devon’s hand, and willed this awful day to improve.

  Someone was playing with my hair. I jumped up, not even sure where I was. “Abby.” Devon’s voice was raspy, but the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. “Where are we?”

  “In the emergency room.” I jumped up and hugged him tightly, until I realized he was still hooked up to a half dozen machines that I was probably going to make go haywire. “You scared the shit out of us.”

  “What about the show?” He tried to sit up, but the strap on the oxygen didn’t allow for that. “Fuck. I missed it, didn’t I?”

  I nodded. “It’s okay. The important thing is that you’re okay.”

  “How can you even say that? It’s not okay. I just fucked up everything.” He closed his eyes, exasperated, and probably already exhausted.

  “That might be true.” I smiled sadly. “But the guys still played.”

  Devon’s mouth dropped. “How?”

  “Eli sang.”

  “Fuck. That bastard is probably so fucking happy right now. He’s been trying to take my job since he joined the band.” Devon shook his head. “He probably hopes I’m dead.”

  “What? No.” Although before this happened, I’d accused him of trying to bump me out, too. “The show went on.”

  “Yeah, and now they know they don’t need me.” Devon looked so sad. “This is all I’ve got.”

  “It will all work itself out,” I insisted, and tried believe it. “What happened last night?”

  “I think I drank some bad hooch.” Devon sighed. “Kaylee’s brother made it. It tasted all wrong, but I’d never had it before, so I went with it.”

  “Who’s Kaylee?” Probably one of the Lexi clones.

  “Nobody important.” That didn’t make it better. “That had to be it. As soon as I drank it, I wasn’t right. Did I even make it back to the hotel?”

  Shit, he didn’t know? “Yes.”

  “Well that’s good, right?” Devon’s voice was already fading, all of this talking wearing him out easily. “I’m just so glad to see you.”

  Devon was right, he’d been poisoned by the moonshine. His blood test showed traces of fucking antifreeze. “Some people use car radiators to distill the whiskey,” the doctor explained.

  “That’s disgusting!” I couldn’t believe it. I expected to hear he’d just drank too much. Everyone always blames bad booze when it’s really just bad decisions. I was a card carrying member of that club. “Who would be stupid enough to do that?”

  “You’d be surprised.” The doctor shook his head. “You shouldn’t drink homebrew unless you know who made it.”

  They wanted to keep Devon at the hospital overnight so they could flush out his system, and make sure he didn’t suffer any other side effects. The guys came to visit after the show.

  “Dev, what the fuck were you thinking?” Mo asked once everyone crammed into the room. The nurse in his unit hated the band at first sight. She’d come in and shushed us a half dozen times already, reminding us there were actual sick people trying to rest. I knew she had a problem with me too from the constant dirty looks she gave me. Get over it, bitch.

  Devon was able to sit upright now and breathe on his own. “I wasn’t. Things got out of hand.” He looked at me, but then down at the corner, almost mad. “I just had a bad feeling about last night, you know?”

  “Why? This place is like heaven.” Frankie didn’t agree with him. “If it was like this here all the time, you wouldn’t be able to drag my ass home.”

  “You know.” That’s all Devon would say.

  Shit, was there more going on between him and Eli than I knew about? They’d been getting along for the most part, besides the occasional look or comment. I didn’t want to think this was all about me. My ego slapped that thought back into check. But what the hell was Eli doing? Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut and play guitar?

  I couldn’t even think about the band until Devon got a clean bill of health. Nothing mattered until that.

  “Enough about my dumb shit.” Devon’s eyes lit up, and he never looked better than he had at that moment. “How was the show?”

  “Dude. It was fucking unreal.” Frankie couldn’t even stay seated talking about it. The rest of the guys nodded. “The crowd was insane.”

  “Aw, man.” The light faded from Devon’s eyes. “But how did we sound? Was it smooth?” He didn’t look at Eli. I knew what he was really asking. Did anyone miss me?

  “Believe it or not, it felt pretty tight,” Caleb said. “What did you guys think?” Everyone nodded.

  Devon looked gray again. I didn’t know what I wanted the answer to be, either.

  “How did the press go?” I asked. Devon looked confused, and I was sorry I asked.

  “Really well.” Eli hadn’t said anything until now. “Blabbermouth, That Metal Show, someone from Palladia for a special they’re going to air in a couple weeks. They all had great things to say about our set.”

  “I’ll follow up with them, see if maybe I can get you back on when the album comes out.” I still sat on the bed, and I squeezed Devon’s hand under the sheet.

  “We were talking to those people? I didn’t know about that.” Devon looked back and forth at the guys, confused, like they’d kept a secret from him.

  “It was just some stuff I was able to set up last minute,” Eli explained, like it made anything better. Devon let go of my hand. The radiator moonshine didn’t kill him, but this just might.

  That nurse waited outside the door so she could kick us all out at eight on the dot. Once I got her to actually pay attention to me, I explained to her that we’d planned to leave for New Orleans in the morning, and she thought we’d be able to get Devon discharged in time to make it home tomorrow night. Probably just so she never had to put up with us again.

  “Can I talk to you?” Frankie asked before we got in the van.

  “Of course.” He probably knew more than he’d let on, since he’d been Devon’s roommate last night. Those two made no secret they were up to no good. Frankie waited for everyone else to get in, and then lit a cigarette and took a couple steps away. “What’s up?”

  “Devon was really pissed off last night.” Frankie exhaled smoke. I moved to his other side not to be downwind. “That’s why he acted out. He was trying to get fucked up.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “The whiskey he drank was made in a car radiator, or something like that.” Devon knew better than to sabotage the show. “He didn’t do anything stupid on purpose.”

  “It wasn’t an accident,” Frankie insisted.

  “Was it because of Eli? Because Devon thinks he’s trying to take over his job, which I think is ridiculous.” I hugged myself. Devon drank a lot when he got upset, but I always chalked it up to that and not anything more serious. I justified his dangerous behavior and I probably should have said something to him about it long before now. Maybe he wouldn’t have listened, but maybe this wouldn’t have happened, either.

  Frankie shrugged. “It was Eli, but it didn’t have anything to do with the band.” He paused, giving what he left unsaid time to sink in. “Dev said he was going to drink until he couldn’t remember you walking in that hotel room with him.”

  Fuck. I almost blurted out that nothing happened, but Frankie knew enough of my damage without having to see every wound.

  “It’s not like he didn’t know,” I whispered, like anyone else could hear me. I looked toward the van, no one was paying attention to us. Eli had decided to drive, how appropriate. “And he could have said something.”

  “Abby, come on. What was he going to do? Sleep with another guy’s girlfriend? It’s just a matter of time before those two kill each other as it is.” Frankie shook his head. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Devon, or you and Eli for that matter. We all try
to stay out of it, but you don’t make it easy.”

  “What did I do?” I yelled, not giving a damn anymore who could hear me. I started pacing back and forth. How was everything that had happened since we crossed into the state of Oklahoma my fault?

  “Nothing. But don’t act like it’s not fucked up.” If he had any idea how dead on that was. “Half the guys in the city would do anything to be with you, and you don’t even notice.” Frankie chuckled in disgust. Why did he even bother to say that? It just made the whole situation weirder.

  After last night, I had to wonder if they’d all see me naked and run, too. God, I was such a freak. Everyone always said girls had no problem getting laid if they wanted to. Unless that girl was me.

  “I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.” I crossed my arms over my chest and started tapping my foot. I didn’t care about other guys. Which I knew was exactly Frankie’s point.

  “We’ve asked him so many times what the hell he’s thinking, and he always gives some sort of smart answer. Because he’s an idiot. But I’d never seen him act the way he did after you went in that room with Eli.”

  “Is that why you knocked on the door last night?”

  “Yeah.” Frankie snuffed out his cigarette. “I had to keep Devon from barging in on you, making an ass of himself. He would have knocked the door down if I wasn’t there.”

  “What do you think I should do?” We’d started to walk back to the van. Everyone was fucking exhausted, and tomorrow wasn’t going to be any easier. Twelve hours trapped in a van with Devon and Eli.

  Frankie stopped. “Do you really want to know?”

  “I asked.”

  “I never, ever thought I’d say this. Fuck.” He shook his head, looking down at the ground. “I think it would be best if you stepped away from the band.”

  If Eli had punched me in the gut last night, Frankie just kicked me in the teeth.

  The worst part was, I knew he was right. And he probably wasn’t the only one thinking it.

  Everything got blurry, the emotion was finally going to swallow me, try to protect me from everything that had happened since we left New Orleans.

  “I can’t do that.” So many reasons why flooded through my brain, but it all just seemed pathetic. Selfish. Somehow I managed to keep from crying.

  Frankie squeezed my hand. “I know that. Come here.” He wrapped me in a hug. Just because he was right, didn’t mean that’s what he wanted. But nothing was ever serious with Frankie. He was the one we depended on to make the bad stuff go away. Now, I didn’t even have that. “You’re like my little sister and my mother all rolled into one.”

  I pulled away from him, a smile tried its damnedest to spread across my face. “I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”

  “I was trying to make feel you better. This is why I don’t even bother with the relationship thing. As you can see, I suck at it.” He started walking again, one arm still around me. “We’ll figure this out, Abby. I guess what I meant to say is, we’re family.”

  “But I’m ruining everything,” I said between gasps of air. The corners of my vision dimmed. I had to get it together. Just because my entire life was falling apart didn’t mean I had the luxury of giving in to it. The guys already saw me as weak. I couldn’t prove it. “And I don’t want to.”

  “I know,” Frankie said before he opened the van door. “If it wasn’t for you, there wouldn’t be anything to ruin. We’ll make this work. I don’t know how, but we’ll do it.”

  The guys were still so pumped from the show, and the enthusiasm should have been contagious, but instead of feeling happy for them, I felt empty. Sinister Riot had belonged to Devon and me. He’d sat on my bed and drew out the first logo. He’d asked me what I thought about Frankie, Mo, and Caleb before he asked them to join the band. If I hadn’t said yes, they wouldn’t have been here. There were guys that Devon felt good about that I didn’t think would work the band. Sinister Riot had been our joint vision, yet they just played the biggest show of their career and we weren’t even there. So for me, it was like they were talking about something else.

  There were five more shows scheduled, just as big as this. Could we get our collective shit together to play as an actual band, and not a group of individuals with separate goals? Maybe Frankie was right. I should step away. And even worse, what if the fans decided they liked Sinister Riot better without Devon? Eli was still the draw. They wouldn’t even know what they were missing. We’d given them a choice they should have never had. Sickness swirled through my body.

  Once we got back to the hotel, the parties were in full swing even though the concert was still going on. “I’m going to go to bed.” I bowed out immediately. No one really seemed to care.

  I lay in bed, listening to the party but not mad about the noise. I’d never be able to sleep. It actually was the only thing making me feel normal. I tried to picture my life without Sinister Riot in it. There was so much space that would need to be filled, and with what? It wasn’t like I could just get job with another band, it didn’t work that way. I couldn’t, wouldn’t go to work with Mallory. It would be admitting defeat in the worst possible way. Anyway, she wanted to work on movies, and she was always frigging miserable. I didn’t want that.

  The rejection letters weren’t even coming in for the internships anymore, but I got the message, loud and clear—they didn’t want me. Music was the only thing I’d ever cared about, and I was the piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit.

  So what I had was Sinister Riot, and I needed to make it work. Devon knew how I felt about him, and now, if I hadn’t known before, I knew exactly how Devon felt about me. Why couldn’t we just act on it? Things couldn’t stay the same, they were as toxic as that moonshine. We had to do something. By trying not to get hurt, we were killing each other.

  Now it wasn’t just us. Eli deserved some sort of fair resolution, too. Before we’d got the news about Devon, I almost thought we had a chance of...something.

  No matter what I worked out in my personal life, there was so much more on the line for so many people. Like a quarter of a million dollars that said we need to make it work. If nothing else, we were all contractually obligated to play nice. For all I knew, it might not even be an option for me to quit.

  I was still wide awake when Eli tiptoed in, but I didn’t say anything. He peeled off his jeans and climbed into the other bed. I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved.

  Once we got back to New Orleans, I laid low for a while. Slacking off was not an option, though. There was never a time in my life when I needed to shine more than now. Since I was able to work from home, without having to actually deal with the guys, I could dive in full throttle. I watched all the interviews the band did at Rocklahoma, and compiled a trailer to send to the press in the cities of the upcoming shows. Post-production on the album was going smoothly, and American Original felt confident with giving us a September release date.

  It was almost like things were going according to plan. I’d have to make an appearance at practice before next weekend’s show in Chicago. I hadn’t decided if I was actually going to go or not. My mother would be pissed if I didn’t come visit after telling her about the show, but we couldn’t have a repeat of Rocklahoma. For so many reasons.

  Andrew emailed me, wanting to set up a time he could come meet with the band in person. Bad vibes radiated from my computer screen. Everything else he’d done via email, phone, or video chat since we’d signed the contract. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what warranted an in-person visit.

  It could have been good news. Too Many Reasons was selling well, especially after the show, and climbing the rock charts. One of the first lessons we learned in school was to never read the reviews. Negativity kills creativity, that’s what my professor said. As much as I was dying to know what people thought, it would kill me if anyone said anything bad.

  But it could be bad news, too. I shoved that thought to the back of my brain
with the rest of the crap I didn’t want to deal with. I forwarded his email to the guys, and gave them a choice of times we could meet.

  I jumped off the futon when my door opened. Mallory was working late, or something like that. I didn’t always listen to her. I’d know she was back when the raincloud returned to the apartment. Three days since my last shower, I wasn’t exactly ready for an audience.

  “Hey.” Devon never needed an invite, but he stopped at the threshold like he wasn’t sure he should come in. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You could have knocked.” I raised an eyebrow, but I couldn’t even pretend I wasn’t happy to see him. Even though Devon seemed to be at the root of all of my problems, he also magically made them go away. And everyone wondered why I was so confused. “You look good.”

  Everything about him was brighter today, which made me feel more disgusting. I knew I was slipping. His skin and eyes were refreshed, and he looked healthy, which seemed strange until I realized how gray and hollow he’d looked the last time I’d seen him. Of course, that was right out of the hospital, but at the time it hadn’t seemed like that significant of a setback.

  Devon took that as his pass, and sat at the other end of the futon, his long legs always making him look like he was sprawled out. I sat with my legs under me, laptop facing him. “I’ve been sober since Rocklahoma.”

  “Good for you.” That was the best news I never expected. “That was some scary shit.”

  “Tell me about it. Waking up in a hospital without any idea how you got there will make you think over your life choices.” He half smiled, playing with his lip ring. I knew he wanted me to ask about those choices, and cold swept over my body. Sometimes it was just easier to keep everything up in the air. That way, I could always pretend everything was going to work out how I wanted it to.

  I pulled my greasy hair away from my face and wrapped it in a makeshift bun. “What have you been up to?”