“Quinn is upstairs in labor. Should you really be doing this?”
“Oh, she’ll be fine. I won’t get trashed. A few beers won’t hurt.”
After arguing with myself, I finish off a second beer. As the alcohol hits my system, I’m calmed within minutes. The stress, confusion, and pain all numbs into oblivion.
Caspian
The energy from the crowd fills the room, and reenergizes me. I use a towel to wipe the sweat from my hairline and take a gulp of water. Next, I swap from my acoustic to my electric guitar. As I tune it up, a girl from the crowd begins screaming something about my voice and love. Distracted, I turn around to hook it up and give the nod for Booker to begin. The music plays and at the first note, I realize my guitar is out of tune. I step up to the mic and begin to sing, terribly off key as I try and tune my guitar at the same time. Like an ass, I look over at Aly who is pounding away at the keyboard with her eyes shooting darts at me.
“Come on,” she mouths.
It wouldn’t be so bad if we were playing a large venue, but this is a small record store in San Francisco. I can’t hide behind the large crowds and lights. I’m out here, exposed to everyone. I tune quickly and finish out the song as best I can, but the damage is already done. When the song is finished, I mentally curse myself. What’s wrong with me today?
“Goodnight, you fuckin lovely people!” I yell out. “We would love to say hello to you. We’ll be back over there.” I point to the side of the room. “Please come say hello after the show.”
The small crowd cheers as we leave the makeshift stage.
“What happened out there?” Booker asks, as we pack up our equipment a minute later.
“I don’t know.”
He snaps the lid of his case shut and smirks. “Yeah, right. You’ve been like this for over a week. You better get your head in the game, dude.”
“I’m trying.”
“I’m here for you, but try harder. Is this—” He looks around before lowering his voice and continuing. “Is this about that actress? Cinnamon or whatever her name is.”
“It’s Ginger, and no. I told you, I’m not gonna talk to her again. You’re right; I don’t need to associate with people like her anymore.” I say the words like she’s disgusting which is the furthest thing from the truth. She needed me, and I abandoned her. I’m a coward.
Fiz comes up behind us. “People like who?”
“No one.” I mumble and move out of the way so that he can put his stuff up.
The rest of the band appears and begins grabbing equipment to pack into the trailer.
“Cas, what is going on with you?” Fiz asks. “You’re forgetting lyrics, screwing up chords, singing like shit.”
I shrug. I can’t tell them my mind is somewhere else. They wouldn’t understand. The only thing they will see is the fact that I’m letting them down, just like I let Ginger down. I know that my last email hurt her, but I had no other choice. She has a drinking problem and refuses to acknowledge it. She’ll only bring me back to the dark place I just crawled out of.
“Are you acting crappy because of me?” Aly asks as we put the remaining amps in the trailer and lock it. We’ve gotten through all these shows barely speaking to each other, this is the first thing she’s said to me in days.
“No, it’s not you,” I mumble.
“Well, then is it another girl? The girl from the picture in Nashville? How can you move on so fast?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aly. I’m just a little outta sync, don’t do this.”
“I could kill myself. I wanna die, Caspian. Is this what you want for me?” She fans her face with her hands while taking slow breaths.
I’m at a loss for words. Threatening to kill herself is so typical Aly.
“Because Ginger Teague is hot. I wouldn’t blame you for being seduced by her charms. Just remember that girls like her can have any guy she wants. You’re a good-looking guy, Cas. I know that, but girls like her don’t go for good looks or sweet personalities. They want money and security. You have neither. I don’t want you to get hurt. Don’t fall for her.”
“I’m not falling for anyone, Aly.”
“I only mean to say she won’t understand you like I do. Everything we’ve been through in the past ten years, we’ve done it together.” She wraps her arms around my neck and presses her body up to mine.
Is Aly right? Ginger seems very materialistic. The only thing that holds value to me is my guitar. Even my apartment that I share with Booker is barely furnished and rarely used. “I’m not talking about this with you.” I push her off me.
“Fine, we’re gonna go hang out with the fans. Are you joining us?”
“For a minute.” We both go to the front of the store where we sign CDs and take pictures. After a few minutes, I give them all a wave goodbye. A few girls sigh in disappointment, but I really need to work on some songs. Everyone else will party or go sightseeing while I work into the late hours. On the way back, I stop at the drugstore to pick up a few snacks.
I stroll through the aisle and grab a bag of Twizzlers and a soda. Sugar can keep me going tonight. There’s a long line at the register so I pull my phone out and send a text to my brother while I wait. My ears perk at the loud chatter of the girls behind me.
“Ginger Teague? No way.”
Wait, what about Ginger? I lean in to listen.
The teenager smacks her gum. “Yes way, it’s all over the web. She was like admitted to the hospital this morning.”
“For what?”
“They didn’t say, but apparently that girl Chase Crowley knocked up was admitted as well. It’s all hush hush, but I bet she overdosed or something.”
My stomach twists. I can’t breathe, everything is blurring together. She’d sent me an angry email this morning, but I never replied. Was she really in the hospital? Did I send her over the edge? I set my stuff down on a nearby shelf and hurry out of the store. I don’t even know her number, is she okay? What if she’s hurt. I have no way to contact her. I’ve been horrible to her. I knew she was hurt, in trouble, and needed a friend, but I’d abandoned her. I let her go all because everything about her scared me. I’d been a jerk to her.
I take a deep breath as I realize it could all be fake. Nothing could be wrong. She could be at home watching TV. Anxious, I pull out a cigarette and light it up to calm my nerves. What I’m really craving is a nice stiff brandy, but that’s not gonna happen. I type out an email, my hands shaking the entire time.
Ginger,
Please let me know that you’re okay.
-Cas
I can’t call her Deena anymore in my emails. It feels like I’m leading her on. I need to treat her like all her other friends, She is Ginger. I am Caspian. Friends. Anything more would destroy us both. I’m already slipping because I can’t get her off my mind. The second I’m able to kiss her, be inside her, I’ll lose all focus and my career will crumble at my feet. My eyes close. The sound of cars passing and people laughing are all drowned out by the beating of my own heart. Be still. Calm down.
“Cas? Are you okay?”
I open my eyes to see Aly standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I’m sure I look completely ridiculous standing on the corner, unmoving.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, pulling the cigarette out of my mouth and leaning against the brick wall behind me.
She grabs my arm. “You’re lying to me. You can tell me. We may not be together anymore, but I still care about you. What’s wrong?” She moves to look at the store behind us. “Are you drinking again?”
I pull out of her reach. “What? No!”
“Is that why you’ve been so unfocused and distant lately?”
“I’m not drinking, Aly. Is that why you followed me out here? To see if I was going to buy alcohol?”
“No.”
“I need to be alone right now.” It feels as though my lungs are being smashed. Not knowing if Ginger is okay or if she’s in pain. I’m about
to burst. I run back to the hotel, and don’t stop until I make it to my room. I pull out a pen and paper, and as I pray for a reply from Ginger, I write for the first time in weeks. All my bottled up emotions fly out. I write about wanting something you can never have. I write about regret, I write about shutting people out.
A few hours later, I’m interrupted by a knock at the door. I get up and let it swing open. Booker strolls in, he’s been out partying with the other guys. Something I used to join in on, but not these days.
“Have fun?” I ask. I smell the alcohol on his breath, it isn’t strong, but as it fills my nose, those recurring urges come back. I work to suppress them by keeping my mind busy with lyrics and hook lines.
“Dude, met some awesome girls, and they’re back at Fiz’s room. Wanted to come see if you want to hang out. We’re just having a little jam session. We could use your vocals. Don’t worry. Aly isn’t jamming. She went out with some friends.”
She and I used to live here so that’s expected. Booker must have seen the distant gaze because he slaps me on the back and gives me a smirk.
“Let’s get that redhead out of your mind. Come on, let’s go serenade these girls.”
“Ah, I don’t know if I’ll be any fun. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“You never hang out with us anymore. Come on, there’s no alcohol. You’re too careful, come live a little.”
I check my phone for the millionth time, no emails. I could use a distraction. “Fine, for a few minutes.”
Booker throws an arm around me. “Sweet, bring your banjo too.”
We walk down the hall to Fiz’s room. The inside is packed with people. Fiz and Leo are in the corner strumming on a guitar. A few attractive girls sit on the bed chatting. There’s a guy on the couch telling a story.
“Cas is here!” Booker announces to the room. He pulls a couple of sodas out of the mini-fridge and tosses them at Fiz and me. I pop it open and lean back against the wall, away from everyone else. One of the girls immediately walks up to me. She’s cute. Blonde hair that’s styled perfectly around her face and bright green eyes. Her dress is three times too small. I’ve seen her type before. I like to call them the ‘Triple Ds’ and not because of her bra size. Daddy issues, desperate, and dramatic. Where does Booker find these girls?
“Hey, I’m Dione.” She holds out her hand, and as I touch her, I feel nothing. Don’t get me wrong. She’s hot, way hot, but I have a feeling that her personality ends with a cheerful hello. I set out to prove myself wrong and start asking her questions.
“You from around here?”
“I go to school here. You guys are in a band? Booker sounds amazing.”
I watch Booker who has picked up my banjo and begun plucking. “Yeah he’s great.”
“You write all the songs he’s been playing? They’re beautiful.”
A little embarrassed, I nod. “Thanks.”
“So why are you sitting all alone over here while there’re beautiful girls everywhere.” She scoots closer, allowing me to smell the liquor on her breath. I look down at her cup. Definitely vodka. What the hell? I thought no one was drinking. This is too tempting.
I rub the back of my neck and stand up. “Uh, well. I’m not really the partying type. Sorry, I gotta go.”
I need to get out of here. I jet towards the door, but Booker calls out to me.
“Don’t leave just yet. Why don’t you sing these pretty girls one of your songs?”
“Maybe in a bit, I need a smoke,” I tell him.
Booker throws a pillow toward me, missing by a few feet. Drunk asshole. What kind of friend does this?
I leave the party behind me and walk out onto the balcony. What am I doing? I feel like such a killjoy. A party won’t take my mind off Ginger. I need to know that she’s okay. I pull up the internet on my phone and begin searching for articles that might give me any insight to what happened today. A few articles gossip about reports of a hospitalization, but no details or updates. I do find an article that reads: Are Barrett and Ginger Back Together?
Yesterday, just hours before an ambulance reportedly came and took Chase Crowley’s pregnant girlfriend to the hospital, Barrett Montgomery was reportedly seen coming out of the home. He went inside with gifts, and came out empty handed. Ginger was also reportedly inside, and sources close to the couple say that Barrett is torn about the break up and wants to get back together. Since Ginger has been seen out numerous times partying with different guys, we take this as a sign she has moved on. But friends say, Barrett won’t give up until he has her back, he is determined to show her that he’s changed.”
The article is accompanied by an array of photos of Barrett leaving the home. He really was there. This guy sounds like a major asshole. There are no photos of an ambulance, so maybe that’s a load of crock? I don’t know, and I won’t feel better until I’m one hundred percent certain. I close out of the article and take a deep breath. She deserves so much better. Next, I pull up her Twitter and Facebook, but she hasn’t updated her status in days.
Her family. I pull up this Chase guy’s Twitter, but it looks like he has an assistant updating it because it’s all promotional stuff. I can’t find anything about her cousin, Quinn, but I’m able to find an account that I believe belongs to one of her younger siblings, Ebbie. Her status is vague. Please pray for my family.
Like that helps. I’ve never been this worked up before. Even with Aly, it was a simple kind of relationship. We never had that big spark, we had grown up together so dating was inevitable. We were comfortable together, but not passionately in love. My body never ached for Aly the way it does for Ginger. The possibility of losing her, well that made my agony even worse. I put my cigarette out in the ashtray and write out one last email to Ginger. Something from my heart. Something to dull this intensity.
Ginger,
As I write this, I have no idea if you are hurt or even alive. I heard that you were admitted to the hospital. The second it passed through the lips of the gossipy girl behind me at the drugstore, I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. We’ve only known each other mere weeks, but that one night we spent together talking for hours, and our numerous emails, I feel like you know me better than the people who are around me every day. I’m sorry for my previous email. I was afraid that we were getting too close. I can’t be in a relationship right now, but I do want to help you. Let me help you. I’ve been where you are now. You’re alone, afraid, and finding peace at the bottom of every bottle. Where ever you are tonight. Whatever you are doing. Please know that I’m missing you.
Cas
Ginger
I scan the email for the millionth time. I’m not sure what to make of it, and it leaves me feeling even more confused than before.
“Let me get this right,” Quinn says from across the room with baby Collin her arms. “He basically gave you a goodbye email and hours later he says he misses you?”
I curl up on the bed with her and kiss him on the forehead. I breathe in his smell. I just love the smell of newborn babies. It’s like innocence and life all wrapped into a seven pound bundle of joy.
“That’s right. He believed everything that the tabloids were saying. Idiot. I’m gonna make him squirm and not reply for a few hours. I’m pretty sure I’ve already told him not to believe everything he hears about me.”
“You’re awful!”
“Hey¸ he’s the one who dropped me like a fly only to tell me that he only did it because he quote unquote ‘can’t be in a relationship right now.’ He’s being childish.”
“You’re both being childish.”
“Whatever. You’re no role model.” I take a few dozen more pictures of the baby with my phone. He has his parents’ dark hair and Quinn’s almond shaped eyes. There’s no denying that he is the spitting image of Chase. The two beers yesterday had taken the edge off, but right after, Quinn started pushing, and this little baby was born an hour later. We all slept like babies last night, and first thing this morning I
’d come in to cuddle with Quinn.
“How do you feel about him?” Quinn asks.
“I feel….like there’s a lot I don’t know about him. There’s a lot he doesn’t tell me, and….”
“You were sad when he said you couldn’t be his friend anymore?”
I laugh, as if I would get sad over some loner guy. Quinn is reading way too much into this, I’ve only just convinced myself that I wasn’t into him.
“Hello? He didn’t say that, and I was a little disappointed, but not sad.”
“I see life behind your eyes again. I haven’t seen that since I moved here.”
How am I supposed to answer that? “Where’s Chase?”
“Picking his Mom up from the airport.”
I look at the clock and stretch out. That’s my cue. Parents, ugh! “Okay, well I’m gonna go home now. I can tell when I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
“You haven’t overstayed.”
“You and Chase need some time alone. I’ll come visit tomorrow, and you better be bringing Collin over all the time. That room I decorated can’t go to waste.”
As I turn to leave, Quinn calls out for me. I turn around, and for a moment, it’s hard to look at her. Her life is so perfect right now, while mine is falling apart. I’m happy for her. I really am. I just wish something good would happen to me as well.
“You convinced me to take a chance on Chase, now I’m gonna do the same to you. This guy, whoever he is, it sounds like you’re beginning to care about him. Don’t let him get away.”
The One Thing Page 11