He quiets, and I study him carefully. The way his eyes shift as he focuses back on his breakfast, the distracted movement of his fork over the plate.
“You’ve been there,” I guess, and he glances at me sharply.
“There’s only so much you can do, Callie. You can’t force someone to heal no matter how much you care about them. Not if they don’t want to.”
I swallow and look away, struck by his words. Casey and I have even more in common than I’d thought, and I’m suddenly able to understand his protectiveness. He’s already been down the path I’m going. Maybe he’d stayed away for so long because he’d finally accepted reality, the hard truth that Luke’s pain could not be his or it would destroy him, too. Then a new thought strikes me as I consider last night, Casey’s compassion, his presence here even now. Did I draw him back in? Is he here to protect Luke or me?
The thought warms and concerns me at the same time. It’s crazy. It has to be. There’s no way this famous celebrity who could have everything and everyone he wants would give a damn about some random nobody from Smalltown, USA trying to help his friend. No way.
“Hey, so hear me out. We wrapped up our tour last week and I was thinking of crashing here for a while and seeing what we can do about Luke. Maybe between the two of us we can make some progress?”
I stare at him, speechless. He can’t possibly know what had just been going through my head, but it gives me chills. I’m even more unsettled about how much I want that, how relieved I feel at the thought of having him around. A strange thought, considering I’d been jealous of anyone else in Luke’s life a week ago. How quickly things change.
I try to stay casual. “Yeah, I mean, if he’s up for it. I guess it would be fine to have you around more.”
He laughs. “Thanks?” and I’m afraid I’m blushing again. I don’t know how he manages to make me so relaxed and nervous at the same time.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean…I meant…” I grunt in frustration.
“You meant, ‘why Casey Barrett, I am simply tickled at the thought of seeing your sunshine-lemonade face every day!’”
“Hey!” I cry, giving him a mock glare. “I do not talk like that!”
“True. Except when we’re on our motorbikes,” he smirks, and I reach over for a good smack on the arm.
He laughs and cowers. “Ok, ok. Sorry.”
“And anyway, so what if every other thing out of my mouth isn’t about ‘effing the establishment.’”
His eyes widen in shocked amusement, and I can’t stop the grin that escapes my lips.
“’Effing the establishment?’ Oh my god, you can’t even curse in your mock quotes!”
“What? So that’s a thing? Making fun of someone for their lack of cursing?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Please, please do me one favor, though. Call it ‘foul language,’ not cursing. I just need to hear it once!”
I hit him again. “And also, I like that you were more concerned that I didn’t use the word ‘fuck’ than the fact that I basically called you a stereotypical anarchist rocker.”
“You just said it,” he snickers.
“Said what?”
“Fuck.”
I stare at him in exasperation. “Seriously? What, are you eight-years-old, all of the sudden?”
He laughs and shrugs. “I’m just pointing out that the universe didn’t explode. I doubt any old ladies even died from it.”
I roll my eyes and grunt. “So that’s twice now,” I return with a smug look.
“Twice what?”
“Twice that you’ve skipped over the part about raging against ‘The Man.’ Is that your thing or what?”
He grins. “I don’t know. Maybe it is. Maybe not. How much will it bug you if I don’t respond?”
“Alright, that’s it,” I cry, jumping off my chair.
“What are you doing?” he asks in surprise.
“I want to hear your music.”
“What? Like, right now?”
“Yes, right now.” I pick up my phone and start searching. It’s not hard to find, as I was sure it wouldn’t be. “What should I start with? Oh wait, I know. I remember one of them from Luke.”
I type in “Argyle” and “Night Shifts Black.” Apparently, this is a much older song, which makes sense based on the story that went with it, but must still be pretty popular because I find several versions of it.
“What are you looking for?”
I give him a mischievous look, but pull away so he can’t see what I’m doing. I click the link and set the phone on the counter.
As soon as the song starts, Casey glances at me in shock, the amusement fading from his eyes. My own mood shifts at the change, and I regret it, although I’m not sure how I would have known.
“That’s the one song Luke talked about?” he asks. He doesn’t seem angry, just surprised, maybe concerned.
I shrug. “In passing. It wasn’t in reference to the song itself, but something about guitars and tuning? It just happened to be the only one I remembered.”
Casey seems to relax, and it’s my turn to be surprised. He forces a smile. “Yeah, the guys like to tune down half a step so they can play it open.”
I have no idea what that means, but I don’t want to remind him his whole world is a mystery to me.
“Who wrote this one?” I ask, and for some reason I’m prepared for his look this time. It only lasts a second before he glances away.
“All of us, like everything,” he replies cryptically.
“Ok, then who had the original idea for it?”
Now I have his attention and meet his gaze with a steady look, daring him to brush me off again. I know it’s not fair. I never would have forced a response from Luke and would have backtracked the second I realized I’d approached a controversial topic. Actually, no, I wouldn’t have even asked the question in the first place. But somehow I know Casey is different. He can handle hard questions, even if he doesn’t want to.
“What do you think of it?” he asks, deflecting again anyway.
I sigh and let him off the hook. “Honestly, it kind of sucks,” I say. “I’m more of a country girl.”
His face falls for a second, and then the grin breaks when mine does.
“Liar,” he replies, and I laugh.
“Yeah. I’m kidding. Actually, I like it a lot. Not what I was expecting.”
“Really? What were you expecting?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, the way you guys talk, I thought it would just be lots of incoherent screaming and banging.”
He laughs. “There’s some of that.”
I nod with a smile. “Yeah, but it’s beautiful, too, in a way. I love the strings in the chorus. Right there! That part you can hear under Luke’s voice.” I quiet. “Wow. He’s really good. Like, really, really good.”
Casey seems amused again. “Shocking, huh? Bands generally prefer frontmen who can sing.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I mean. I just never heard him doing his thing before, that’s all. Well, that I recognized anyway. I never truly listened. It’s like learning something new about him.”
“Yeah, this is a pretty old one, too. That’s why I was surprised Luke brought it up.”
“He was talking about the time your gear got stolen from the motel parking lot.”
Casey grunts and sits back. “Oh yeah. That sucked big time. We were all broke to begin with, and of course, those bastards took off with most of my stuff.”
“Luke said they took the stuff they recognized.”
Casey nods. “Yes, and apparently drums and symbols are pretty obvious even in their cases.”
“Well, thankfully you’ve recovered.”
“Interesting choice.”
Casey and I are both startled by the new voice, and turn to see Luke shuffling toward us, disheveled but alert.
“You couldn’t at least play our good stuff for her?”
“She picked it,” Casey defends.
“Please tell me your reminiscing includes coffee,” Luke mumbles.
“Here, dude,” Casey says, passing him the carafe. “There’s food, too.”
Luke grimaces and pours a cup. “Let’s go with coffee first.”
We’re quiet for a moment and the song finishes, forcing the silence even louder. None of us knows how to begin. Especially, since we’re not sure which Luke we have with us at the moment.
“You know, Casey wrote most of that one,” Luke announces, and I’m not surprised based on our earlier interaction.
Casey just shrugs. “Black sheep, right?” he says with a quick smile of explanation. I have mercy on him and return it. I remember what Luke had said about the meaning of the song, and realize Casey must have a story I’ll need to hear one day, too.
“It’s basically what got us signed,” Luke continues.
“Well, that and our devastating good looks,” Casey jokes, not even acknowledging Luke’s praise. I roll my eyes, and he grins, although he’s probably not far from the truth. It certainly wouldn’t have hurt.
“She thinks it’s pretty,” Casey continues, and a knowing smile flashes across Luke’s face.
“Pretty? ‘Argyle?’ She would.”
“I would? What’s that supposed to mean?” I counter.
Luke shrugs lightly. “Nothing, I’m just not surprised, that’s all.”
I blush a little, not sure what he means by that. “Well, excuse me if I’m not dark and depressing enough for you edgy rockers.”
Luke and Casey exchange another grin, and I cross my arms. “What? What did I do now?”
“Nothing,” Luke replies.
I glance to Casey, but he just shrugs and looks like he’s stifling a laugh.
I glare at them both. “Fine. I should probably get going anyway,” I retort.
“Callie…” Casey grabs my arm as I pass. “We didn’t…”
I pull away and continue on.
“Callie!”
I know I’m being childish as I hide in the extra room, but deep down I’m also smarting from the nerve they struck. The truth is, I really am self-conscious about the fact that I don’t fit in. I act like I’m confident and don’t care, and maybe a lot of the time that’s true, but sometimes, moments like today when I’m tired and coming off a string of trials, I’m too exhausted to be the ambassador. Sometimes I just want them to try to come into my world for once.
A knock interrupts my thoughts, and I glare at the door. I don’t respond, but it doesn’t matter, and I’m surprised when it’s Luke who pokes his head in. He gives me an apologetic look and completes the journey into the room. I still don’t say anything, but shift a bit so he can sit beside me.
“You know we fought over who would come in here,” he begins, and I’m not sure how that helps.
“You lost, I guess?”
He looks surprised and laughs. “No, I won!” he cries in exasperation. “God, Callie, don’t you get it? We don’t want you to be like us! We want you to think our music is pretty and tell us when we’re being assholes. You have to stop thinking that the gap that separates us is because of a shortcoming on your part. Did you ever think that it might be on ours?”
I swallow, floored by his words for so many reasons.
He lets out his breath, staring at the floor. “I can be a major pain-in-the-ass. I know that. Last night…” He shakes his head, and I’m not about to correct him. “Anyway, my point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for last night. I’m sorry for this morning. I have a ton of issues, but I never want you to think you’re one of them, ok?”
I finally allow myself to glance over at him, and all the fear, and longing, and pain, and confusion come rushing back into me at once. I don’t know what to do with it as my eyes fill and I lean into him. Luke wraps his arms around me in return, and I hold on, terrified that I will lose him one day.
“I was so scared last night,” I whisper into his shirt. I pull back slightly, and look up into his face. “I didn’t know…I mean, you…I hated seeing you like that.”
He looks away, and I catch a glimpse of all the agony that led to last night before he tucks it out of view. I let him go, and he squeezes my hand gently before retreating into himself and facing the wall again.
“That used to be normal.”
“I know.”
He glances at me sharply. “Casey told you.”
“Casey loves you and is probably the best friend you have.”
Luke seems skeptical, and I shake my head. “No. You need to listen to me, Luke. Last night it was Casey who took care of you, not me. It was Casey who wiped the puke off your face and nursed you back to health.” I pause. “You need to let him back into your life.”
Luke’s expression hardens. “I can’t.”
As does mine. “You have to.”
“You don’t understand.”
I shrug. “Ok, then explain it to me. We’re past the ‘no personal stuff.’”
Luke shakes his head and won’t look at me.
“He’s a good person, Luke. And after what I saw last night, I’d venture to say, better than both of us.”
Luke shakes his head again, looking like he wants to speak but can’t. Or won’t.
“What? I don’t know if maybe you’ve had a falling out in the past, but he wants to make it right again. He wants to be a part of your life.”
Luke glares at me, and it’s then that I see the self-loathing Casey was talking about. It’s so vivid I almost gasp.
“He can’t be part of my life. I’m not doing that to him again,” he hisses. Then rises from the bed.
I watch him leave in stunned silence.
∞∞∞
Casey is oblivious when I emerge from the room, still seated at the island, studying his phone. He glances up at my entrance, but his smile fades when he sees my face.
“You’re still mad. I’m sorry, we didn’t…”
I cut him off with a hug. He doesn’t speak, even though I know he’s confused as my arms tighten around him. He reciprocates, and I feel his chin resting on my head. He adjusts so we can be closer.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, allowing me to settle into him.
I want to say something, to explain, but I don’t know how. Nothing’s wrong and everything’s wrong. And some things are right, but maybe not enough things.
“I want you to stay,” I whisper. “No matter what happens, what he says or does, you need to stay. Please?” I ask, pulling back so I can search his face.
His eyes fill with concern, and I realize how beautiful they are. I’d thought there could be nothing more consuming than the painful depth of Luke’s gaze until I got lost in the compassionate abyss of Casey’s.
He just nods. I know he knows there’s more to this, that he’s going to regret his promise as much as be glad for it, but he makes it, silently, and I rest against him again, holding on.
“I can’t help him alone, Casey. I know that now. He needs you. I need you, too.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he responds softly.
“Promise?” I ask, looking up at him again.
He nods. “Promise.”
I force an awkward smile that he returns, suddenly feeling safe again. It’s funny how Luke stirs me up but Casey seems to calm me down.
“He told you he wanted me gone, didn’t he,” Casey guesses after a long pause.
I don’t respond at first. It does us no good to lie.
“Yes, but not for the reasons you’d think. I actually think it’s because he believes he’s bad for you. I think he’s afraid he’ll drag you down with him. He said ‘again.’ What does that mean?”
Casey looks away, conflicted, and sighs.
“Please, Casey, I’m tired of being involved in your lives and yet not knowing anything. I don’t know how to help, how to even act, when I’m around you two.”
> He nods and glances down the hall, probably to make sure we’re alone, before leading me to the couch. We sit facing each other, and I wait as he gathers his thoughts.
“If you think things are bad now, you should have seen what happened after Elena,” he begins quietly. “Luke completely imploded. I doubt he even remembers the first month. The band took a hiatus, everyone understood, and the publicity actually helped us. You know how tragedy goes…well, as long as it’s not your fault.” He stops and looks away. “And it wasn’t, and the media had a field day with it. Our Label didn’t help matters and sucked every last dollar and headline they could out of Luke’s devastation.”
He takes a deep breath. “The problem is, it kind of was his fault. Not in an obvious way, a criminal way,” he adds quickly. “But the kind of way that tears you apart inside and turns compassion into poison.” He quiets again. “Everyone said he just needed time…and space. Even the other guys let him go. They wouldn’t have known what to do with him anyway, but I couldn’t. I stuck by him.” He looks up again, and I can see how painful this story is, and yet, how relieved he is to finally release some of it.
He lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, he hated me for it, believe me, and made nothing easy, but he was my brother, and I couldn’t just abandon him and take advantage of his pain like everyone else.”
He sits back and shakes his head at another memory.
“You know, at one point the Label almost cut me because I refused to be part of some major cable ‘special’ about the whole thing. I don’t know why Sweeny and Eli did it, but they did. I guess the Label realized Night Shifts Black couldn’t afford to lose both Luke and me, so they agreed to let me sit out the interview if I agreed to participate in another tour. We had canceled the rest of the current one after what happened.”
“And Luke blames himself for almost getting you kicked out of the band?” I guess, studying him carefully.
He shakes his head. “No, Luke blames himself for almost getting me killed,” he says quietly. He draws in a deep breath. “I’m not an expert at grief, and I certainly wasn’t then. I didn’t know what to do with Luke, how to take care of him. I was full of my own pain, too. All I knew was that I wasn’t going to abandon him like everyone else. But I’ll admit, in the beginning, I made the mistake of thinking ‘being there for him’ meant ‘joining him.’”
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