Front Row

by Rebekah N Bryan

  Hi Taj,

  Yeah, sorry about that. Those Towners really know how to party, but I am bummed I didn't get to hang out with you guys longer, too. I really hope I'll be able to get to another one of your shows soon! My number is 555-678-8934.

  I hesitated before sending it. It sounded so plain, like I was emailing a classmate or coworker. I had to add something that was a little more affectionate sounding. I bit my lip, pounded the words "Call me anytime!" onto the keyboard, agonized over whether to put a period or an exclamation point, and hit Send. I looked around for my phone and tipped my desk chair over when I jumped up, remembering the phone was dead in my purse. After plugging it in and staring at the screen for a few minutes, I gave up and dug out my finance book.

  ***

  The next day in class, I regretted my lack of studying as I stared down at the bleak, white page of the finance exam. Most of my night had been spent staring at my phone, not at my textbook, and I was paying for it. I typed some numbers into my calculator and cursed myself for the hundredth time for not buying a financial calculator at the beginning of the semester. Next time. Next semester, I'll do everything right. Hopefully no bands I like will be touring. Forty-five minutes later, I handed in my test filled out with my best-guess answers and trudged back to my apartment. The wind whipped outside and stung my ears as I pulled the collar of my coat up around my neck and chin.

  I was quiet and introspective most of the night, taking little bites of the taco salad Haley made for dinner, and not paying much attention while we all watched TV together. When my phone rang at eight o'clock, I half expected it to be my mom, the person who calls me most often. The number was one I didn't recognize, and I almost didn't pick up until it rang for the fourth time and I realized it might be Taj.

  I slammed my finger against the green call button to answer. "Hello?"

  "Rachel? Hey, it's Taj." I covered my face with my free hand to try to prevent myself from freaking out and retreated into my bedroom. My name sounded so good coming from his chill voice.

  "Oh, hey Taj." I tried to sound casual, but instead sounded squeaky. "How's tour going?"

  "It's fine. It's tour." I heard some voices and commotion in the background. "We have tonight off and we're about to go out, but I just wanted to check in and hear more about how the rest of your Sunday night was. You get home OK?"

  "Yeah, we got home eventually…"

  "Eventually huh? What does that mean?"

  I didn't know what came over me, but I wanted to tell him everything whether he wanted to know it or not. "It was so weird and random. We ended up at the Towners' hotel. Just to crash, that's all. At least, that's all I did."

  "Oh really? Alex got some action, huh?"

  I heard a faint "what!" from the other end of the line. Shit, shit, shit. What had I just implied? Did Will hear that? "Are all the guys there?"

  "Yeah, we're all in the hotel room. Ah! Now I'm being humped by Will. I think he wants to talk to you."

  "No, Taj—" I tried to stop him from handing the phone over, but instead I heard Will's baritone.

  "Hey, sounded like you girls had some fun the other night."

  "All innocent fun!" My voice climbed an octave higher than usual, and my ineffectual lying showing through, I was sure.

  "Just tell me. I don't care. Alexandra's not my girlfriend or anything; I'm just curious."

  I was silent. I wanted to appease Will, and he did seem pretty nonchalant about the whole thing. Even still, that didn't excuse what I did next. "I mean, it was nothing. Alex and Jacob may have had a little fun, but they were both drunk, and it was really nothing. I do know she likes you a lot, though." I noticed a red spot near by elbow and realized I had been pinching my skin while talking to Will.

  "So first Gabe, now Jacob?" he asked.

  "What? She told you about Gabe?"

  "No, but you just did."

  Shit. He tricked me.

  "Gabe was nothing," I said. "He's a man-whore. Alex isn't like that."

  "No, it's cool. I know. Like I said, I was just curious." I didn't believe him, and I wanted to explain further, but Taj came back on the line.

  "You get that all cleared up?" he asked, none the wiser.

  "I don't think so. I think I'm in trouble. Taj, I gotta go."

  "Yeah, us too. Listen, you have my number, so be sure to call me if you're coming to another show. We'll hook you up."

  "Thanks, Taj. Have fun going out."

  "It won't be as fun without you. You know, you and Alex. Bye."

  I hung up with no more questions answered than when Taj emailed me the previous day. I still couldn't tell if he liked me as more than just a fan to have fun with, but that didn't matter at the moment. I had just done the one thing Alexandra told me not to do—tell Will about her goings on with The Out of Towners. To make matters worse, I even left out the part about me spooning with Randy to at least make myself look bad, too. No, I had put it all on her. Now I had to decide how I was going to tell her. I opened up an empty email compose box and stared at it while my palms sweat.

  Alex—

  I did something really bad, and I just wanted to give you the heads up and apologize profusely ahead of time. I accidentally let it slip to Taj about you and Jacob, and Will ended up finding out about Jacob and Gabe. I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry. Please let me know what I can do to fix this because I'll do anything.

  —Rachel

  I tried to go about my daily life the next couple days, but having not heard from Alexandra at all made it harder to concentrate. At work, my drawer didn't even come close to balancing, and I had to stay an hour later in bookkeeping to try to find my mistakes. After I failed to do so, my boss sent me home with some strong words and a written warning. In French class, our eccentric professor in his thick, authentic French accent asked us to choose an irregular verb to conjugate aloud. I picked trahir—to betray. "Je trahis, tu trahis, il trahit, nous trahissons, vous trahissez, ils trahissent."

  "Ah Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. C'est vrai? Avez-vous trahissez quelqu'un?"

  "Peut-être."

  "Ah, c'est dommage."

  "Oui, je sais."

  On top of that, I hadn't talked to Taj since that fateful phone call either. I wasn't in the right mindset to call him, and I couldn't think of anything specific to email him about. I refreshed my email box for the millionth time. Alex still hadn't written back, and I had to see her later that day. All five of us girls had plans to see a movie and then go out for Halloween afterward. A pair of pastel butterfly wings we had each purchased weeks ago hung by their velcro arm bands on my closet door knob. We were each supposed to wear a skirt and a different color top with our wings. My color was yellow. The color of happiness. Ha. My khaki skirt was wrinkled at the bottom of a drawer. I sometimes borrowed Kim's iron, but I was not in the mood to go to the next room and ask for it. Wrinkly would have to do.

  A new email popped up at the top of my inbox. "Enter the $1,000,000 Sweepstakes." Stupid spam. I opened a new tab and navigated to Face Rake's website. They were in Fargo, North Dakota. I couldn't think of anyone I knew who had even been to Fargo, North Dakota. As far as I knew, it was made up for the Steve Buscemi movie. I'd have to remember to ask the guys how they liked it. Clicking over to the band photos, I flipped through all the tour and promo pictures, wishing that I could rewind to the last weekend and redo everything. Maybe instead of going out with Towners, I would've stayed and seen where things went with Taj. Whatever happened, I would've kept my big mouth shut.

  My door squeaked open, and I jerked the cursor to go back to the tab with my email. It was Haley.

  "What were you doing?"

  I spun around in my office chair. "Nothing. Just checking my email. What's up?"

  "Do you have anything green I could borrow for my costume?"

  "I'm sure I do. I have all the colors." I yanked a sweater out of the canvas hanging shelf in my closet and pulled a beaded tank top off of a wire hanger, sending the hanger crashing to the fl
oor. "Ugh, this day."

  She held up the tank top in front of her torso. "School stuff again?"

  "No, I mean yeah, always. But that's not it. I think Alex is mad at me." I called Kim in and explained the whole situation to both of them and asked them what I should do.

  "Well, she hasn't said anything to us about it. Maybe she's not mad," said Kim. I had a feeling the opposite was true.

  When we arrived at the theater, I didn't know how to act. My arms might as well have been popsicle sticks. They were useless as I hoisted myself out of the backseat. My knees felt like water balloons about to break and give out at any moment. Alex and Shelly waited for us by the entrance. They were both wearing jackets, but a blue striped shirt peeked out underneath. She was supposed to be the pink butterfly. I wanted to ask about it, but Haley saved me the trouble.

  "Where's your pink?"

  "Yeah, I'm not doing that. I don't feel like going out tonight. I think I'm just going to go back home and watch scary movies after this."

  "That sounds more fun than being out with the crazy drunks tonight," said Kim. Haley and Shelly agreed.

  "You guys can come over if you want." Her eyes flicked in my direction, which I read as "all except for you" as opposed to "you can come, too."

  Without knowing it, Haley saved me from speaking up again. "That would be fun, but I have to work early in the morning. And scary movies freak me out."

  We handed our tickets to the ticket ripper, and I faded into the background and walked a step or two behind the four girls, who acted oblivious to the tense situation. Once settled in the theater, I excused myself to go to the restroom. I tried to time it so that I was gone long enough so that the previews would have started by the time I returned. To kill more time, I visited the concession stand for a large tub of popcorn and a cup of ice water. Theater 6 was still quiet when I found my way back, so I paced between the two doors until I heard the volume go up for the first preview. When I located the row that the girls had filed into, my heart sank. The only seat remaining was in the middle between Alex on one side and a stranger on the other side. I shuffled past each of my friends and slumped in my seat, tense and trying to make myself as small as possible. Which was not easy for someone close to six feet tall. I tilted the tub of popcorn toward Alex.

  "No thanks."

  I have no idea what that movie was about. A mostly uneaten giant tub of popcorn balanced on my lap. My back grew stiffer and stiffer as I sat still and planted in my seat. My feet could've grown roots, I was sitting so still. The movie ended, and I still hadn't spoken more than one word to anyone, and Alex still hadn't looked in my direction more than once. The silence was worse than anything she could've said to me.

  On the way home, Kim confirmed my suspicions. "OK yeah, Alexandra is pissed at you. She went off when you went to the bathroom."

  I tugged at the seatbelt across my chest, folding it into shapes and straightening it out again. "I figured. What do you guys think I can do to make it better?"

  "Give her space right now," said Haley. "Wait until she cools down, then try and talk to her again."

  Kim's intense blue eyes looked up into the rearview mirror. "You really shouldn't have said anything to Will though, Rach." She was right, but I couldn't help feeling defensive. I just had to deal with it.

  ***

  Saturday morning, I checked my school email on my computer to see what homework I had to get done before Monday when an IM conversation popped up and interrupted my train of thought.

  "Hey, Rachel. How's it going?"

  It was the ex-boyfriend. What did he want?

  Me: Could be better, you?

  Ex: Fine, just thinking of you. What's wrong?

  Me: Alex isn't speaking to me. Long story.

  Ex: Isn't it Kim you're usually fighting with?

  Me: It's not a fight, I don't think. Anyway, I'm just kind of bummed out about it.

  Ex: Are your roommates around?

  Me: Not at the moment. I think they're gonna be back later today.

  Ex: Do you want some company?

  I did, but not necessarily from him. Still, it was nice to have someone that wanted to hang out with me at the moment. "Sure, I'd take some." He told me he'd be over in a bit. My bedroom was in no condition to have a guest over, but he'd seen worse from me. The least I could do was shower and maybe shove the rest of my dirty laundry into my stuffed laundry bag. Clean laundry that I never bothered to fold sat in a heap on top of my dresser with a couple random socks that had fallen to the floor. Yanking a wrinkled T-shirt and my trusty fleece sweatpants from the pile, I headed to the shower.

  Clarity came over me as the jets of water hit the back of my head and dripped over my eyes. What was I doing? We hadn't even been broken up for two months, and we had talked from the safety of our own computers a few times. I knew something was going to happen if he came over here. That's why I was in the shower, wasn't it? But he was one of those people who liked me at my worst, and I felt pretty low at the moment. I finished up, got dressed, and answered the door with my hair dripping wet.

  My ex stood in the doorway looking bashful. "Would it be weird if we hugged?"

  I didn't know the protocol, but I hugged him anyway. His jacket was cold from being outside, but his familiar arms were a huge comfort to me. "Let's go in my room just in case the girls do come home soon. I don't need the judgment."

  "Your room, huh?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Stop. Nothing's going to happen."

  I was wrong of course. One thing led to another, as they say, and a back rub led to making out, which led to over the clothes action, which led to under the clothes action, which in the end led to a session of ex sex. And it was good right up until the end when the realization of what I was doing hit me. Did I even want this? But at that point, it was too late, and I went with it. He was sweet and giving, as always, and I was lonely.

  "I miss you, Rach," he said afterward.

  "Yeah, we had something good." I wasn't going to lie to him ever, but that was the truth. We did have something good, and he had set the standard for every future relationship I would have.

  "Are you seeing anyone right now?"

  I furrowed my brow. "No. I don't have a boyfriend. I have a crush, but it could be nothing. What about you?"

  "There is a girl." I hoped he wasn't referring to me. "A new girl at work is pretty cute." Phew.

  "You should go for it. You know you're a catch."

  We had both been staring at the ceiling, but he propped himself up on his elbow to face me. "You are too, Rachel. Whether you believe it or not."

  I rolled my eyes again but smiled. "Thanks. I needed that."

  He arose and pulled on his khakis. "I have to get to work. Are you going to be OK?"

  I located my sweatpants under the covers. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks for coming over."

  When he closed the apartment door behind him, it opened a second later. Had he forgotten something? I pulled my T-shirt on and opened my bedroom door to see. Oh crap. It was Kim.

  Her blue eyes burned with accusation, but I thought I spotted a bit of amusement in her expression as well. "What was your ex-boyfriend doing coming out of our apartment? With messed up hair, might I add?"

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest. Was it obvious I wasn't wearing a bra? "Nothing. I was just lonely and in a bad mood about the Alex situation, so he was keeping me company."

  "Rach."

  "OK, we may have done it, too."

  She hung up her jacket and dropped her purse on the kitchen table. "Are you getting back together?"

  "No."

  She searched my face for anymore information, but I didn't have anymore to give. With a sigh, she gave up, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and disappeared into her bedroom. "OK, whatever floats your boat."

  So much for avoiding judgment.

  ***

  With no plans on Sunday and both roommates out of the apartment, I spent most of the day sulking in my room and t
rying to think of ways to remedy the Alex situation. I could call Taj and ask to speak to Will. Or maybe better, I could write Will an email, but what would I say? I could try and write Alex another email, but I don't know that it would help. The feeling of guilt turned into loneliness and desperation, and I needed to talk to someone. With nervous butterflies flitting around in my stomach, I dialed Taj's number, not sure if it would help or hurt matters.

  "Hello?" His voice sounded sleepier than usual.

  The clock read 10:01, and I tried to recall their tour schedule. Crap, I thought I remembered they were in California, where it would only be 7 a.m., which means he had probably only been sleeping for four hours, if that.

  "Sorry Taj, I didn't realize how early it was. I'll talk to you later."

  "K. Bye, Rach." The phone clicked, and the line went dead.

  That brief call only made me feel worse and more alone. Even my roommates in the other room felt worlds away because I knew they were siding with Alexandra. I considered occupying my mind with homework, including a paper I knew I had to write, or laundry, but I couldn't find the motivation to get up out of bed to do any of it. I spent most of the rest of the day alone in my bedroom with the door closed. I almost expected Taj to call me back, but I couldn't say for sure if he was at all conscious when I called. I was still too embarrassed by waking him up to call him back. At about seven o'clock, I fell asleep and resolved to get up early to take care of whatever schoolwork I was neglecting as a result of feeling sorry for myself.

  Monday morning I woke up at about five o'clock and went right to my computer to try to pound out a paper before my class in a few short hours. At the moment, I didn't have time to think of my friend problems, but those would creep into my brain soon enough. I was able to eke out the bare minimum required number of pages, and I only gave myself enough time to change my clothes without showering before I flew out the door and rushed across campus to class. The ink in my printer was running out, so some sections of my paper were faded, but it would have to do. I could always print off a new copy if the professor couldn't read it.