by Kristi Ayers
“I’m sure once they show you, it will be easy as pie. And,” I pulled out the money I owed her and slid it across the table, “you can use this to try out each kind.”
She laughed. “Then I’d be awake for a week.” When she took the money, our fingers lightly brushed. My breath caught and I couldn’t say anything for a few beats. It felt like warm sparks were crackling around my fingers, just from a half-second connection of our skin.
It was now or never. I nervously glanced around and blurted, “Holland, I hope I can hear you play again sometime.”
She smiled. “Of course you can. I’ll have chamber concerts here.”
She wasn’t comprehending what I was really saying. Too many people meet, only for it to be a temporary stroll through your life, and the next thing you know, you’re left with an untouchable memory. I wanted to make a book of memories, one without an ending.
I swallowed, quickly gathering the right words in my mind. “I really enjoyed the time we’ve had hanging out and playing music. I’d like to know if you’d want to spend more time playing music with me. With us.”
Her features softened as she realized I was admitting a bit more than was coming out of my mouth. I liked her, and I had since the moment I saw her under that tree and led her to our dorm that day. She was nothing like the girls that I normally met. She was authentic and not afraid to let herself feel what was inside her head at that moment. Too many girls plastered on the makeup and hid behind sexy clothes and gobs of perfume when the real person was being subdued under all the falsities, setting up an inaccurate representation of who they really were. How could one fall in love with a fabricated person? I couldn’t.
Instead of saying anything, she took the pen she used for the application and wrote on a napkin. My heart hitched when she slid it to me, and I saw what she’d written.
Her number.
The next evening, we had practice, but with much effort, I refrained from inviting Holland. Adam needed to be relatively sober, since we had a show Friday night at a popular bar in town, and then a frat party the very next night. It was time to get serious.
And the first hour, we were serious. Sweat soaked through all our shirts as I held the last note in a song that we’d played three times in a row.
“Okay, break time,” Adam breathed after he hit the last beat. His dark hair was entirely drenched, and I had to admit, he gave it one hundred percent tonight. He had a beer earlier, but then he chugged water the rest of the night, which was a complete surprise. That was until the moment he saw me take out my throat steamer. Then his default emerged. Brown eyes turned black, and with a coarse silence, he strode to the kitchen. Bottles and glasses clamored, and I could hear the unspoken words with each ringing strike. He didn’t like that Holland was being friendly with me.
I looked at Douglas. We both didn’t know what to do or even say, but one thing was for certain. This was getting ridiculous.
The decision to do something was taken out of my hands when I heard Bex’s voice. Her timing for interruption was impeccable. She started sweet-talking him, not even concerned about what was really bothering him. She just wanted to patch it up by taking him to the bedroom.
I huffed, thoroughly disgusted, and yanked my guitar strap over my head to put it in its case. We were obviously done, after just one stupid hour. If we sounded like shit this weekend, it wouldn’t be my fault.
Douglas and I continued to pack up our stuff, when we suddenly heard Bex become upset. Her voice hitched into a grating whine. “Adam, why not? Just come to bed, baby. I’ll fix everything.”
Silence.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She was pissed now. “Why are you not touching me?”
Douglas whispered, “Do you think we can go out the window? I do not want to let her know we were here.” She was a bear to everyone around when she was pissed.
“I think we’re stuck until they either go to the bedroom or she leaves.” Neither seemed to be a possibility at that moment. Bex had the charisma of a wolverine. She wasn’t afraid to get into fights because she got off on anger and pain. Typically, her outlet was body decoration. Little by little, tattoos and piercings were inching over most of her body. But sometimes she would hit Adam in hopes of being hit or slapped back, her mission to turn it into foreplay. It was revolting to witness. And it appeared to be heading in that direction.
Barely audible, I heard Adam say, “Bex, you should go home.” That made me inch closer to the doorway so I could hear what would transpire next. This was indeed out of the ordinary.
“Go home? You want me to go home?” A bottle shattered on the floor, the crash reverberating through the house. Normally, Adam would have spat a slew of curse words, so when he didn’t, I became concerned. He may have been sliding backwards. Back into the darkness that enveloped him when he first started at West Bay High, our high school. The very subject that took him six months to finally reveal. I was ignorant in hoping he had gotten better.
The silence made a remarkably loud statement. A minute later, I heard the front door slam. Douglas and I stood there and blinked, unsure how to leave in a respectable manner. Or should we stay? This was our friend.
“I think we should talk to him. We can’t just leave him here to get drunk and pass out.”
“I think you are exactly…wrong.”
“No, hear me out,” I urged. “Just look at all the things he’s doing out of the ordinary. Consuming something other than strictly alcohol, telling Bex to leave… Something is really wrong.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But you know how he tends to get if we overstep our boundaries.”
“Sometimes it’s needed.”
I headed to the kitchen, a little apprehensive as to what I’d find, and weighing words in my mind to say to him that would be of any help. He was on his knees cleaning up broken glass and spilled alcohol. Douglas and I crouched down to help him, taking paper towels and soaking up what looked like a hundred dollars of tequila. We worked in silence until it was all finished, words seemingly not needed, because he stood to thank us and appeared grateful for our presence. If he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have looked us in the eyes just then. He was transparent like that.
Before we left for the dorm, I paused and said, “I’m here if you want to go to the skate park or get a drink somewhere.” Yeah, so I didn’t impart any philosophical insight, but it was enough for that moment. He nodded and went to his bedroom, a shot glass in his hand for the alcohol stash he kept on his bedside table.
Chapter 6
Holland
The coffee shop was kind enough to hire me on part-time, which would certainly help my money woes for the time being. Really, it was all I could handle with my schedule for the fall semester. Classes and violin practice consumed a substantial portion of my time, especially if an essay was assigned, or studying for a big test. I decided the best chance for me to make decent tips was to work the early morning shift on the weekdays. I’d catch the bulk of people heading to their classes, and I’d still have time to make mine at nine o’clock. But eventually, I’d need tips from a posh restaurant because my parents could only help so much each month.
Mid-week, I got a text from Max asking if I’d like to watch them play at a bar in town. He even mentioned that I could ride along with them in their van. Since I didn’t know the area well and didn’t have my own transportation, I was thankful for the offer.
As I texted him back, Violet peered over my shoulder. “You’re texting Max?”
“Nosey?” I raised my eyebrows at her, which was met with an impatient eye roll. “Yes, we’re texting. I’m watching them play in town at a bar Friday night. They’re letting me ride with them.”
“Oooh, a groupie.”
“Hush. We’re all just friends.”
“Friends. Right…”
I rolled my eyes directly back at her. She was an expert at making something out of nothing, but I had to admit that Max seemed interested, especial
ly after our last meeting at the coffee shop. At least in the name of music.
Time was unfailingly carved out for a phone call to my parents, at least once a week if not more. They needed to hear my voice, and frankly, I needed to hear theirs. A text wouldn’t suffice. It simply lacked the emotion conveyed in the human voice.
“Hi, Mom.” I heard Dad get on the phone too. “Hi, Dad.”
They both talked at the same time, mostly asking questions. I laughed and answered each one, and then filled them in about my new job.
“You’ll have to make us a fancy coffee when you come home,” Mom said with excitement.
“Sure. When I come for Thanksgiving, I’ll blow your taste buds away.”
There was an odd second of silence, then Mom said, “Well, honey, this year, we’re planning to go to Aunt Maggie’s house for Thanksgiving. We were hoping you could meet us there.”
Wow, that was unexpected. I couldn’t remember a time Thanksgiving wasn’t at our house. “Aunt Maggie’s, huh? Are you flying?”
Dad answered, “No, we’re going to rough it and drive.”
“Dad, that’s a twelve-hour drive.”
“Yes, and we discussed it already that you can fly to save time. We have extra money and–”
“No way. I’m not letting you pay for me to fly.” We argued for a few more minutes before we came to a decision that they were not in the least bit happy with, but I saw no other option. I was staying at the campus to save money. They wanted to cancel their trip, but I wouldn’t let them. The last time Mom saw her sister was at Lia’s funeral. And if there was one thing I knew as deep as the marrow in my bones, it was you should visit your family as often as you could, because one day, one unfortunate moment, they could be taken away forever.
I dug through my dresser for something to wear to the bar. I saw Violet eyeing me, just itching to help. If I let her have her way, she’d send me out looking like a pop princess. I was more low-key, blending into the crowd, careful not to draw any attention.
“Can I suggest–”
“No.”
Violet chewed on her lip. It was killing her not to be able to give her opinion and insight to fashion.
I changed quickly, curled a few waves in my hair, and was set to go.
“Holland, why do you have to be such a minimalist?”
I shrugged. “That’s just me.” Really, simplicity has always been my thing. I saw no need to spend hours getting ready for something. It would be time wasted when I could be doing something worthwhile.
The walk to Adam’s house was spent worrying how he was going to act tonight. He was a firecracker in the middle of a symphony, sudden and with heat, demanding attention and leaving with residual smoke that left a trail of wonderment. A beautiful and tragic mystery. What happened all those years ago to carve him into someone who displayed broken like a bold-faced banner?
The sunset behind his house was a scenic orange, salmon, and indigo oil painting. Fiery leaves dropped languidly in his front yard. I stood in silent admiration as a soft breeze lifted my hair gently.
“Cates, why the fuck are you just standing there? Come on. We have to go.”
And then the peaceful moment faded into embarrassment. “I—Yes, I’m coming.”
I followed Adam to the side of the house where Max and Douglas were loading things into
an ugly blue van. It had obviously been a commercial vehicle of some sort because the side logo had been haphazardly scratched off with what looked like sandpaper.
“What? You don’t approve of our ride?” Adam watched me with a smirk.
“No. This is cool.” I choked on the last word, which made him laugh.
“Come here, Cates.” He nodded his head toward a small garage just off the house. When he raised the metal door, I saw a black car in shadow. After he turned on a row of dusty lightbulbs, I saw not just a black car, but the most impeccable gleaming Porsche. “This is what I normally drive. The heap over there is just to transport our stuff to gigs.” He waited for me to say something, but I was stunned mute. How could he possibly afford that? When I finally tore my eyes from the car, his eyebrows were raised, waiting for me to say something.
“It’s awesome.”
He grimaced and shook his head. “We’ll need to give you a ride in it. Then you’ll have a few more adjectives roll off that pretty tongue of yours.” I blushed at his words and looked back at the car, envisioning riding in it with him. “We need to go. Curtain time is kind of important.” He flicked off the lights and shut the garage door.
Max watched us walk back over. I didn’t miss the concern that flickered in his eyes. Before I could ask what was wrong, Adam shooed me into the van. I took a seat in the middle row and Max slid in next to me. Douglas hopped into the driver’s seat, and Adam relaxed into the front passenger’s seat with a weighted paper sack in his lap. Alcohol. He must really have a fake ID.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Max said next to me, our arms brushing.
“Thank you for inviting me. This will be the first show where I know the band personally. It’s all pretty cool.”
He watched me a few beats before he said, “I’ll make sure you have a front row seat and whatever drinks and snacks you’d like.”
I felt my cheeks flush at how he was making sure I’d be taken care of during their set. His blue eyes looked so beautiful at that moment, the same blue the sky had been earlier.
“Cates.” Adam’s voice made me startle. “You don’t have an early morning, I hope?”
“Um, no. I don’t work the weekends. Not yet anyway.” I knew he really didn’t care if I needed to get up early or not. He was just paying attention to his surroundings a little too well. I looked back at Max to find him frowning at the back of Adam’s head. This night was going to be interesting.
We drove into a busy city where the traffic was thick and people, likely tourists, were walking the sidewalks. Most appeared to be contemplating which restaurant or club to go in. The beach was a few blocks away, just off the boardwalk, and the nightlife in the city was waking up. We parked the van and the guys started unloading, adamantly declining my offers to help.
“Guests don’t do any of the dirty work,” Douglas commented with a warm grin.
That made me wonder if Adam’s girlfriend was coming. Shouldn’t she have ridden along with us? There was certainly room for a few extra people.
From that moment on, everything seemed to be strategically planned out, and it all flowed like a well-rehearsed play. The drums were set up, a background banner hung behind the stage, electrical cords strung and taped to the floor, amps and guitars plugged in and tuned, microphones tested. I was beyond impressed. When it closed in on showtime, Max led me to a table up front that must have been reserved, because all the tables around me were full. This place looked like a typical bar with dark wood and low lights. Some people were playing pool while others sat with friends eating buffalo wings and other menu items.
“What drink can I order you?” Max was leaning close to my ear due to the level of noise surrounding us.
“Are you twenty-one?” If I had just turned twenty, I assumed the guys were nineteen or twenty.
“That I am. Long story, but I started kindergarten late. So what would you like?”
His voice near my ear was making me feel drunk enough. Heavens, he smelled so unbelievably good. I didn’t need anything more to inebriate me. “I’m okay. If the waitress comes by, I’ll get a water.”
He tapped the table then meandered to the bar. I guess he wanted a drink for himself, which made me become concerned for his voice. Had he learned nothing from my tips?
Except, I was wrong.
He came back with a cold glass of ice water and set it in front of me. My heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Max.”
He smiled. “No problem. I’ll see you after, okay?”
“I’ll be here.” I watched his tall frame walk behind the stage.
Again, I sat ther
e wondering if Adam’s girlfriend was present and scanned the growing crowd. Shouldn’t she be here at this table with me?
The stage fell into darkness and I could see three silhouettes walk to their places. A moment later, the music started. At the same time, the stage lights flashed on. They opened with one of their energetic covers, one that commanded the audience’s attention along with getting them pumped up. I had to admit, Max exuded sex appeal in the way he let his inhibitions fall away like a second skin. He gripped the microphone and met people in the eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned three buttons down, letting his lean, muscular chest be revealed as he strummed his guitar. Occasionally, with the beat, his body swayed from side to side behind his guitar, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. Gone was the reluctant singer.
I could tell, from a technical standpoint, how he was opening his lungs and projecting from deep down. Confidence was making him do that and it was awesome to witness. Girls in the audience began to holler out their approval. In a particularly intense moment in the song, he looked over at me. My whole body blushed while he held my eyes, causing my breath to suspend between my lungs and slightly opened mouth. When he finally looked back at the crowd, I swallowed and could breathe again, but my heart was still fluttering wildly.
The next song was upbeat like the first one, but for the third, they slowed it down. Douglas sat out and let Max and Adam have the stage. Adam sat on top of his cajon; Max on top of a stool beside him, his hair falling a little into his face while he strummed the guitar. He looked like an angelic being among the hazy glow of lights. I finally let my eyes glance at Adam’s face and was stunned to see his brown eyes staring directly at me. He hadn’t paid any attention to me once it was game-on, the moment he stepped into the bar. Now he was making me feel I was the one on stage. I looked back at Max to break the awkward feeling, only to have my eyes slide back to Adam to check if he was still looking at me.