Only Mostly Devastated

by Sophie Gonzales

  I was in the middle of making three mugs of hot chocolate in the kitchen a few days after Will’s sudden class transfer. More specifically, I was holding Dylan up to the counter so he could stir the powder into the milk. Aunt Linda and Uncle Roy had come home from the hospital earlier than we’d anticipated, right after I’d promised the kids some warm drinks. Uncle Roy offered to take me home, but I wasn’t in any particular rush. I’d gotten my homework done during a rousing Paw Patrol marathon. So he dove straight into the shower. Probably his first in a few days, given how run off their feet he and Aunt Linda were.

  “Can I try to read the message to you?” Crista continued when I didn’t respond.

  Earlier that evening I’d been messaging Ryan about my new band, so I figured it was a reply from him. “Go ahead,” I called back.

  “‘Hey … wanna sit … next … to me … tomorrow in … music? I p-prow … m-eyes’? ‘Prow-mies’? Mama, what does this word say?”

  My life flashed before my eyes, and I detached Dylan from the hot chocolates with a jiggle so I could sprint into the living room, still holding him. “D-don’t, don’t read the rest, it’s okay, I’ll read it.”

  Crista was already in the process of passing the phone to Aunt Linda, who sat stretched out on her recliner under a bright blue Snuggie. Aunt Linda raised an eyebrow mischievously and held out the phone. “And who’s this from?” she asked.

  “No one.” I jostled Dylan onto my hip and reached for my phone.

  “Is it a boy?”

  “Come on.”

  “Please, Ollie, let me be the cool aunt,” Aunt Linda said. “You used to tell me everything. I want to gush.”

  “No gushing.”

  “I’m going to play the cancer card.”

  I snatched the phone back. “Eurgh, no, that’s not fair.”

  “Neither is cancer.”

  I stared her down, and Dylan struggled to the floor to join Crista on her iPad. I lowered my voice so Crista didn’t overhear. The last thing I wanted was a re-formation of the Will fan club right now. “Fine. It’s Will.”

  “Will from the lake?”

  “Bingo.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Aunt Linda squealed. “You didn’t tell me he lives in Collinswood.”

  “He lives in Napier, but he goes to Collinswood High.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  My grin felt a little pained. Probably not as award winning as my musical debut as a bush, put it that way. “Nah. He’s not out, so we don’t have that much to do with each other.”

  “Sounds like he wants to sit next to you in class. That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

  Wednesday, 6:47 PM

  Hey, wanna sit next to me tomorrow

  in music? I promise I won’t distract

  you. Finding it hard to keep up! I’m

  dumb : (

  No wonder he was finding it hard to keep up. He knew nothing about music. It made zero sense for him to have transferred into the class at all.

  “Yeah, well, not serious enough for him to risk being seen alone with me,” I said, exiting the message app. “So, whatever.”

  Aunt Linda turned the television down with the remote. She meant business. D and M time, so it would seem. “I remember when you were in eighth grade, and you had that crush on the older boy. What was his name again?”

  “Ben.”

  “Ben. You were crazy about him.”

  Damn right I was. Ben with the perfect singing voice and bright green eyes. Who wouldn’t have been crazy about Ben? Too bad Ben was straighter than a curtain rod. “So?”

  “So, even though you told me all about Ben, you didn’t tell everyone.”

  Of course I hadn’t. Barely anyone even knew I was gay back then. I hadn’t come out properly until tenth grade. “Yeah, I wasn’t out yet. I get your point, but it’s different. I could never have had Ben anyway. If he’d told me he liked me, I would’ve done anything.”

  “Well, maybe you were ready a little earlier than some. You also had a supportive family, and great friends. Not everyone has it so easy.”

  I was unmoved. “If Will liked me the way I liked Ben, he’d at least speak to me in public.”

  “Is music class not public?”

  “Sure, but he ignored me for weeks up until just recently. In the halls, and in the cafeteria, and in English …”

  “But not music class anymore. Seems like progress to me. It’s small, but it’s something. Sounds like he’s trying.”

  Eurgh. I hated it when adults made sense.

  “Try not to take it personally if he’s not going as quickly as you’d like him to,” Aunt Linda said. “If friendship is all he’s able to give you right now, don’t knock it because you were hoping for more. Maybe, if you’re lucky, he’ll be ready for something else one day. If not, at worst you’ll have yourself a good friend in a new school.”

  I thought about it, trying to find the holes in her argument. It didn’t appeal to me, the idea that Will might only ever be a friend. Was that because deep down, I was hoping he’d magically turn back into the old Will overnight?

  Aunt Linda might be right. Maybe I’d been unfair to pin that kind of expectation on Will. Now that I thought about it, he had been trying. Sure, he hadn’t done the thing I wanted him to do most of all—declare his love for me publicly on the bleachers in a grand musical number—but that didn’t mean I had to knock the baby steps, did it?

  I bit my lip, then sent him a text back.

  You’re definitely not dumb. We can sit together if you want. I’ll even give you a distraction hall pass or two, if you’re lucky.

  Aunt Linda gave me a tired, but genuine, smile.

  11

  “Stop, stop, stop. That sucked.”

  I stopped the recording dutifully, but shook my head. “That was fine. What’s the problem?”

  Juliette lowered her clarinet and stared at me like she was doubting the legitimacy of my ears. “Um. All of it. All of it was the problem. One more time, okay?”

  We were holed up in her bedroom, taking advantage of the natural late-October light to film her audition for the Conservatory. A task that was taking longer than I’d expected. Like, a lot longer. She’d played the piece so many times I knew it inside and out. I’d had to stop myself from humming along the last five or so takes.

  “Sure, but seriously, we need to wrap it up soon. I have to be at the Lost and Found by five-thirty for sound check.” It was my first gig with Absolution of the Chained that night. Sure, it was in a bar that was usually emptier than a college student’s refrigerator, but it was still important. I didn’t want to mess anything up, and that included being late. Also, I had good reason to expect there would be at least a handful of people in our audience that night. Juliette and the girls had a few connections around the school they were dragging along, and Will had even promised to bring the basketball guys. Sure, he’d said it was so Darnell could get a shot to speak to Niamh alone, but I appreciated it either way.

  “Okay, one more time,” Juliette said, waving to get my attention. “Count me in.”

  I did, and she took it again from the top. Her fingers flew over the holes and keys, her gaze distant as her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She was somewhere else. Which was promising. The last few takes, she’d been stealing glances at the camera, until I’d promised her it wasn’t likely to explode without notice.

  I sang along in my head until I realized I didn’t know this part. She’d gotten further than before. I held my breath, willing her to keep it going, to hold on to the streak. She made it another second. Then another. Surely the piece was almost over now. Surely.

  Then she played a final note, and breathed out. I waited for her confirmation, hopeful.

  “Switch it off, Ollie.” She laughed. “Okay. That was okay. I got through it all, anyway.”

  “We are victorious,” I said, switching off the camera with a flourish. “That is a wrap. Well done, Valentina Lisitsa.” Valentina Lisit
sa was a piano player Juliette showed me on YouTube a couple weeks earlier, whose fingers moved so fast it looked like her videos were sped up to double time. Juliette had brought the channel up somewhat defiantly, telling me it was proof that someone from North Carolina could become a famous musician. Let the record show that I’d actually never implied otherwise. Something told me a little voice inside Juliette’s head might have once or twice, though.

  “Valentina’s a pianist.”

  “All right, be pedantic then. Well done, Valentina Lisitsa’s clarinet equivalent. You’re halfway to college!”

  Juliette came over to grab the camera. “Not so fast. I’ll have to make sure it’s okay before I send it off. I need it to be perfect.”

  “Have a look at it tomorrow. If you don’t like it, shoot me a text and I’ll come for round two. I don’t have plans.”

  Juliette climbed onto the bed beside me, standing up on the unmade covers. “You’re the best, Ollie-oop. Thank you, so much.”

  I got up and jumped on the spot, grabbing her hands. “You’ve got this. You did awesome.”

  She jumped a few times, too, bursting into nervous laughter. “I hope so. God, I hope so.” She let out a small scream, then threw her hands up. “Now let’s get you to sound check, Bon Jovi.”

  “Bon Jovi, really?”

  “Closer comparison than Valentina. Come on, Ollie-oop, go, go, go. The night’s all about you, starting from … right … now.”

  I took a dramatic leap from her bed and bowed to her as I landed. “I’m happy to share the spotlight. But only with you.”

  Juliette applauded me, then grabbed my arm to swing it back and forth. “Will’s coming tonight. Are you nervous?”

  “About Will coming?” I asked. “No.”

  Yes.

  “He’s been talking about you at lunch a lot.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Just casual stuff. Like, ‘Oh, Ollie thinks this,’ or, ‘Ollie told me a story about that once.’ Well, he was, anyway. Then Matt asked when the wedding date is. He hasn’t really brought you up since, now that I think about it.”

  The unhappy pang that accompanied the gay joke was, for once, outshined by a warmer feeling. Will was talking about me. When I wasn’t even there.

  We’d been sitting next to each other in Music Appreciation since his message two weeks before. Five lessons in total. It was easy to get along with him in class, but a part of me figured that was because his friends weren’t around. I’d been low-key terrified all day that he might give me the cold shoulder tonight. Even with Aunt Linda’s pep talk, there was no way I could overlook it if he completely ignored me. But if he was acknowledging me in front of the basketball guys, that was different.

  Maybe we’d be able to manage being friends after all.

  So, a “few” people turned out to be closer to a hundred or so. Apparently it’d spread around the grade that the Lost and Found was the place to be that Friday night. I had more than a slight inkling it was down to the basketball guys. I wondered what it’d be like to have that kind of power? To be able to decide what people you barely knew did with their lives, just by doing it yourself?

  Sayid and Emerson were a tiny bit nervous when they saw the crowd. And by that I mean Sayid had made a genuine attempt at backing out due to homework commitments he’d forgotten about until that very second, and Emerson was shaking so hard he spilled half his water bottle down his front when taking a drink. Izzy was loving every second of it, though. She spent the half hour before the set running back and forth to report back on how much the audience had grown, her eyes alight. She had good reason to be excited. Being able to draw a crowd would do wonders for the band’s rep. We were unlikely to struggle finding a host for the next gig now. The Lost and Found would probably make more on soda and bar snacks tonight than they’d bring in the rest of the week combined.

  Before I knew it, it was time to begin our set. Thankfully, Emerson and Sayid got over their nerves once we were onstage. Actually, that’s not even giving Sayid enough credit. For all his freaking out, he belonged on the stage in a way I never saw in practice. He moved around seamlessly between the keyboard and the center mic, jumping about the place, joining me and Emerson, and engaging the crowd. I was pretty sure the music was the opposite of what 99 percent of the crowd would choose to listen to, but it was hard not to be entertained by Sayid.

  As for me, I didn’t mess up. Much. Maybe a note or two, but nothing noticeable. At any rate, I threw zero people off, so I considered it a resounding success. Thankfully, Mom and Dad raised me to aim low, to encourage a healthy contentment in hitting par.

  Then, suddenly, it was over. A few minutes of packing up our instruments, and we were walking out to join the growing crowd while a DJ set himself up.

  Juliette flung her arms around me as soon as I came out. “Ollie-oop, that was so good. Holy shit! You’re like a freaking rock star, you know that, right?”

  “That was really great, Ollie,” Niamh chimed in, touching my upper arm. Her voice was softer than usual, and her eyes seemed heavy and tired. The problem with going out on a school night, I guessed.

  “Spectacular,” Lara deadpanned, hanging back. As usual, I had no idea if she was being sincere or not. Probably not.

  The girls all had glasses of soda, and Juliette passed me one. Lara glanced at the bartender, and turned aside to let me see her pocket. I saw a flash of a silver bottle. “Want a little something to celebrate?” she asked.

  Of course. I wondered if they were all drinking, or if it was just Lara. Not that she was likely to be the only one in here with a flask. “No, thanks,” I said tightly. Tightly, because I knew what her reaction would be.

  She rolled her eyes without even trying to hide it. “Why do I bother?” she muttered to herself.

  “Take it slow, all right?” Juliette said to Lara. “They’ll kick us out if you get messy.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  Matt and Darnell came over to talk at that point, and while Lara greeted Matt, Niamh shook her head at Juliette and me. “It must be nice to be able to eat and drink whatever you want, without ever exercising, and never have to justify your lifestyle to anyone.”

  Juliette shrugged, but it was a sympathetic one. She and Niamh joined the rest of the others in a conversation about next week’s game, while I scanned the crowd curiously. And … yep, there she was, hanging out near the bathrooms with a group of senior girls. The redhead Lara had hooked up with at the start of the school year. Renee. I wondered if Lara was hoping to kiss her tonight. If that was why she was already drinking at seven-thirty.

  Then I noticed Will had joined us, and I was suddenly interested in the conversation again. Lara gave him a mischievous look and poured something in his and Matt’s drinks, keeping things below waist height to dodge wandering bartender eyes. This would be interesting. Would Will be as eager to make up with me now that his whole letterman-wearing crew were active witnesses?

  “Hey, man,” Matt said to Will, slapping him on the shoulder. “Help us settle this. If you had to choose between making out with a Labrador that turned into a chick after you stopped, or making out with a chick who then turned into a Labrador, what would you go with?”

  Will leaned against the bar and crossed one foot over the other, pushing his hair back off his forehead. If I did that, I’d look like I was trying and failing to emulate James Dean. Will made it work, though. “What the hell kind of conversation did I just walk into?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Um … well, where’s the consciousness? Is the idea that you’re kissing a Labrador in a girl’s body, and then it turns into its true form? Or is it a girl who just shape-shifts?”

  “The first one. It’s actually a Labrador the whole time and it’s like, whaaat, surprise!”

  “Yeah, got it. How hot is the girl?”

  “How hot is … What is the relevance?”

  “Well, if I’m gonna frog-prince a Labrador, I’d be
tter be saving a girl I’d wanna date.”

  Darnell cut in here. “Wait, so if it’s not a hot girl, you’d just let her stay in a dog’s body, forever? That’s fucked up.”

  “What, so you’d make out with the Labrador?”

  “Fuck no, I’m not making out with any Labradors, what kind of bestiality fetish do you think I’ve got?”

  The same mischievous, playful, fist-bumping kind of attitude that’d pissed me off coming from Will in class was way more palatable outside of it. I still found the cocky posture and wry eyebrow raise a bit of a turnoff, but a part of me liked how much the other guys admired Will, and the way they pounced on him the second he joined a group. It even made me jealous, in a way. It didn’t seem to matter what he said, or how terrible his jokes were, or whether he put his foot in it, they drank it up. It was just his energy. He was ineffably charismatic. Life came so easily to him.

  Suddenly, the guys drifted away, the Labrador paradox apparently resolved to everyone’s satisfaction. Matt to speak to Lara, Darnell to moon over a slightly perked-up Niamh, and the others to head outside. All at once, Will and I were alone in a crowded room. I swallowed, turning red. Was he going to pretend he didn’t know me? Back away so he wouldn’t be seen with me? If he did, I decided, that was it. No more second chances.

  Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and drew closer. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  “How so?”

  “You looked very … different up there. Like, relaxed and confident.”

  I couldn’t help it, I flushed with a little spark of pleasure. “Did I? I guess I’m comfortable performing. I’ve been doing it for years.”

  He took a sip of his spiked Coke, then held the glass ahead of us. “Hey, who do you ship more? Darnell and Niamh or Lara and Matt?”

  I let out a scornful noise, relaxing into the conversation. This was like talking to music class Will. Or the lake Will. “Lara and Matt? No way. She’s into someone else.”

  “Really? Who?”

  Why was he so interested? I shrugged. “That’s her business. I’d put money on it, though. I notice things.”